I'll let the Googles post this for me at my selected time, because if all goes per plan, I'm off to the regular Wednesday morning Mom meeting with a sizzling agenda.
It seems the retirement center never ordered replacement pads for that dreadfully uncomfortable neck-immobilizer collar, and when my sister got one of Mom's M.D's to write a prescription for them, she found the pharmacy needed cash -- because per Medicare and Mom's insurance, this was something that was supposed to have been handled through the nursing home.
They had not, and in initial contact expressed mild surprise at their own omission-- Yet this is something totally obvious on a patient who gets an at least three-times-a-week check for bedsores and similar issues. Once again, paint-by-numbers healthcare, performed by the cheapest supposedly-qualified help.
My sister is out a reasonable chunk of change, an amount that would have bought a couple of months of very nice lunches. My Mom's been putting up with yeechy padding on her neck stabilizer. My brother and I are seeing red.
And this is a place that gets good-to-excellent ratings from the State and the various consumer-reviewed websites. Imagine how bad the really bad ones must be.
I need to include the Hemlock Society in my personal retirement planning -- I haven't got three kids and a dozen grandkids to at least try to nursemaid the nurses and I'd just as soon not be tormented by incompetent dullards in my dotage. The way we treat the infirm elderly is a crime. When my time comes, play me out with Beethoven's Symphony No. 6 instead, please. Please.
BUILDING A 1:1 BALUN
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