Posted on Monday, November 24, 2014 - 06:04 am:

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For those of you following the continuing saga, Dave didn't get to go to the rehab facility until today.

The day that he was to be transferred, the doctor came and told us there was not a bed available for him since we don't have insurance, even though the rehab rep had said that was not a problem. I had asked this specific question. Since he was medically stable, she was discharging him from the hospital to come home. I would need to arrange with the Infusion Clinic to bring him for his daily IV antibiotic drip in his PIC line. When he heard he wasn't going to rehab, it absolutely crushed his spirit. The speech progress he had made regressed and he became an emotional basket case. He couldn't even do his physical therapy that day because his blood pressure was too high. The fact that this brilliant medical doctor unloaded all of this on us at the last minute - especially to him - really burnt my toast. He may comprehend what is being said to him, but he is not "processing" things correctly. He's used all of his will, strength and spirit to get this far. He's got no reserves to find his "no worries" attitude that he usually has.

None of these available options set very well with me. He may very well be "medically stable" as she so clinically put it, but he was in no shape to come home just yet. He's still on anti seizure meds, the IV antibiotic, and his magnesium and potassium levels still fluctuate requiring supplements to regulate. Aside from the fact that he can't walk more than 10 feet or so with a walker before his right foot starts dragging and his leg buckles underneath him and his right arm and hand are still very drawn and virtually worthless currently. He's only just begun his recovery. What part about the man was "this close" to being dead 5 days ago does she not get?

I didn't spend the last two weeks scrapping with the Grim Reaper, gain this much gray hair, lose this much weight, sacrifice my knee caps from kneeling in prayer, making pleads and deals with God, summoning strength and will power I didn't even know I had to save his physical body to have his spirit crushed like that. I did not sit by his bed night after night telling him how pissed I was going to be if I had to sit on a pew all by myself watching the boys get married, welcome grandbabies without him, retire and run a farm all by myself desperately trying to reach him wherever his was, reminding him that he still had a lot of things left to do, to be told he doesn't qualify for the care he needs. He fought too hard to get back here. Nope, I'm sorry - you don't get to hang a "trash" label above our heads and toss us to the curb.

I had completed stacks of financial paperwork during my stay at Hotel Eastside and everything is in a "pending" status. Not to get on a soap box or be political or whiny, but we're not the only ones in the "limbo class". We're not poor enough with minor children to qualify for assistance programs. Yet, we're not rich enough to be able to afford to pay for many of the things a lot of folks take for granted. We work to make it work. We're disciplined and frugal. Some make fun of us for living so primitive. We watch every dime and cut corners where we need to. We keep the thermostat set high or low, don't use a clothes dryer or hair dryer, cook from scratch, have a garden, budget wisely, reduce, reuse, recycle - whatever it takes to make it on what we have. We're always running one paycheck away from disaster it seems. There's no extra money for emergency car repairs, or unforseen expenses, or yeah, health insurance. Yet, at the same time, we still buy a little extra food to donate to the food bank. We still donate to charities and gofundme campaigns, even it's $5, from everything from a farmer trying to raise money for a new tractor to a lady needing money for cancer treatment. We work hard to keep the good karma flowing, and always keep it in our heads that there are lots of folks out there who have it worse than we do.

So I went to battle once again. This time with social workers, the hospital administrator, the rehab representative, the rehab hospital administrator, and the doctor that wanted to discharge him to come home. I started making my own phone calls and trying to cash in favors with every available contact I could think of. Each and every person that I talked to that gave me an unacceptable answer, I asked them for the name of their boss. I hit the internet and started looking at the legal angle of how I might be able to fight that Dave was not medically ready to come home, and found that you can indeed fight for a doctor not to discharge you from a hospital if you feel you are not medically ready. On Friday, I bullied and begged the doctor to give me until Monday before sending him home, pleading to her that it was not out of inconvenience for me, or that I felt we were entitled to any benefits, but for the safety and well being of my husband. If he were to fall and crack open that $6 million head of his, or if his potassium levels dipped or any other countless things that could happen, I'd be right back at the ER with him. (I left out the part that the news crew and my attorney would also be with me.)

The boys and I began preparing the house, on the off chance my mission might fail and we would have to bring him home. We rearranged furniture to make pathways wider, removed trip and fall hazards, and started devising a plan to accomodate Dave's current limitations. Somehow though, God gave me the strength to be the calm in the chaos and I just knew I wouldn't have to bring him home on Monday.
This morning, the Admissions Coordinator from the rehab center came to visit us and said that a bed had become "unexpectadly available". I'm not sure if that means the person died or ran away, but it seemed a very odd phrase to me. Anyway, he said he could offer 7 - 10 days of rehab if I could promise that Dave would have 24/7 supervision for at least 2 weeks after he left rehab. He said it would have to be a written agreement that I would have to sign to ensure Dave's safety. (Translation - you'll release us from all liability if something happens to him after he leaves rehab.) I assured him this could be arranged and I would sign whatever agreement we needed if he would give Dave the spot. And so he did. The other odd thing about this is that this gentleman and I have passed each other in the halls of the hospital a million times over the last 3 weeks. We've ridden the elevator together on several occasions. I thought he was a doctor at the hospital. When he entered the room, his face was full of surprise when he said "Oh hi! Are you Mr. and Mrs. Hare?" It makes a difference putting a face with a name I guess. He'd seen me at my most haggard and tear stained moments I'm sure.

Needless to say, Dave was overjoyed to be going. He was an emotional basket case again, but in a happy way this time. I even got to drive him myself since the rehab is so close to the hospital - no need for medical transport. We bid a tearful farewell to our newly made family members at the hospital and assured everyone we'd return with flowers and cookies and candies once Dave is able to walk in tall and proud and speak on his own without me having to translate for him.

I've asked you for so much, but please keep the prayers going. Now, the hard part starts for him. There will be days he feels like he's making no progress and is frustrated. I'm sure he'll feel so tired that he can't possibly push out one more rep for them or he may even feel like giving up if it's not going as fast as he'd like. Pray now for his spirit to stay strong so the rest of him will follow.

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Posted on Monday, November 24, 2014 - 10:52 pm:

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Dave had a good first day at the rehab center. He was dead dog tired! I said "They really put you through it, huh?" To which he rolled his eyes, hung his head to one side and stuck his tongue out like he was "dead". We had a laugh about it and muddled through what he had done today. His nurse came to take his blood pressure, and when she saw his birthdate said "Oh wow! You're a year older than my dad!" He gave her "the look" and made a "pffffft" sound, waving his hand at her. He always makes me laugh no matter how bad things seem. I miss him being home.

Now, I have to give some big kudos to three amazing young people in my life. I've received so many compliments and pats on the back for my role through this treacherous journey, but you all need to know who a few of my helpers have been. Some of you have never met our boys James Colin Hare and Gavin Cody Hare or Colin's girlfriend Shirley Mae Samonte. You have to know how these three have stepped up during a time of absolute chaos and crisis and jumped in feet first doing whatever they could, even as their world was upside down same as mine. They've not questioned when I would say "It's not a good day to visit" when Dave had a particularly rough day during the last few weeks. We've never coddled them or protected them, but we've always held fast to the belief that there are just some things the kids don't need to see. Instead they would ask if I was ok and how I was holding up and let me know they loved me. On the days I thought they could visit, they were right there at Dave's bedside, holding his hand and letting him know they loved him, willing him to stay strong. They brought me food to the hospital, ran errands for me, came to pick me up when I just simply did not have the where with all to operate a motor vehicle. They were the back up drivers when Dave's parents were in town, making sure they reached their destinations safely. They've let me cry, allowed me to totally lose my head, forgiven me for not having all the answers. We've shared tears and overwhelming feelings of gratitude as we've read cards and letters of get well wishes, donations, posts on Badweb, and graciously accepted offers of help where and when needed.

Shirley has kept this house running, from cleaning to laundry and everything in between. I haven't had to worry about a thing in my absence over the last few weeks. My boys have been right there on either side of me when I'd carried the weight for as long as I could, helping to prop me up and make that one more step. Taking care of their momma, just like their dad has taught them and would expect them to do.

The three of them have grown into incredible young adults, everything a parent could ever wish and want for. I cannot express in words how very proud I am of them. They have truly gone above and beyond the call of duty, just like I have, for the man we all love so much. Each of us realizes we're pretty darn strong on our own, but united, we are a force to be reckoned with. They have been my support and pillars, having faith in me to take care of things, but haven't let me take the brunt of the storm alone.

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