And so …
It’s getting increasingly difficult to hang on. Continuing health issues (I have to see a cardiologist next week), dwindling resources, past due bills to manage, just barely, an inability to work at my previous capacity, which is the legal criteria for Social Security Disability, a lack of food several days a month … my doc wants me to see a therapist but what good is that going to do? Make me search for a silver lining? Like the social worker from Adult Protective Services said to me, “Well, at least you have a roof over your head.” Yeah, that and what fucking else?
I’m enrolled in every social service program imaginable but they are scant help. After I pay my rent on the first of the month I clear $200 for the balance of the month, which is not even enough to pay my utility bills, let alone groceries when my meager food stamp allotment runs out …
Great … just writing this is suddenly giving me chest pains, which is why I’m being sent to the cardiologist after the inconclusive tests at St. Vincent’s Medical Center last Saturday.
Tomorrow, Saturday, September 20, I am being readmitted to St. Vincent’s Hospital near downtown L.A. for “tests and observations”. My doc, whom I saw today, is greatly concerned over increasing bouts of vertigo, disturbances in my sleep patterns, and morning chest pains and nausea. Obviously they are looking at the cardiac system, even though I had a clean EKG in their office this afternoon. But, all in all, since the surgery in March I’ve felt like a bag of wet cement. She wanted me to be admitted today, Friday, but I refused because I had to get too many ducks in a row before I go to hospital.
The most important duck to be aligned is my cell phone. My new IHSS worker, Maria, insists on driving me to the hospital tomorrow morning or afternoon but I need to put airtime on my cell phone — a minimum of $15.00 — in order to call for a ride home when I am discharged and to phone Lela with check-ins and to request her presence if things get complicated. There are no phones in the rooms at St. Vincent’s, only in the private rooms, and when you’re on Medicare and Medicaid there’s no such thing as a private room.
So, basically, this is a hospital visit fundraiser for cell air time and, well, I’m going into the hospital with $7.00 remaining on my Paypal, nothing in the bank, and I’m certain there will be meds and things to purchase when I’m finally discharged. Any assistance that can be rendered can, as always, be remitted via my Paypal account at firstname.lastname@example.org
Thank you, and see you on the other side.