My computer is inexplicably dysfunctional. It has lost the ability to scroll, or I have anyway.
,,,the car approaching me just before I reach my house is flashing its lights, I slow down. There is a fairly large birch tree across the road, blocking one lane completely and part of the southbound lane. I drive into that lane to pass the obstruction, and I'm home before 9 in plenty of time for that conference call.
Thursday, March 2, 2017
And it's not yet 9:00 A.M.
The bus driver said he'd pick up at 7:00 A.M. So I was up before 6 because it's a long process to be curbside that early in the morning, and besides, the driver is invariably early, as indeed he was this morning, pulling up to our driveway at 10 of 7. I'd turned on the TV to hear reports of the approach of a devastating windstorm and potential power outages. So my first reaction was to turn on the dishwasher. Who needs to be in a cold house with a bunch of dirty dishes. I needed to do a load of laundry, including bedsheets, so I waited until after the fill cycle of the dishwasher stopped and ran, rather walked, downstairs to the washing machine, hoping the laundry could be dried before the sky fell, Chicken Little that I am.
It's still early. I am scheduled to participate in a Conference Call at 9:30 this morning from the V.A. I opted not to be there in person. It is with Palliative Care. Not to be confused with Hospice Care. The goal is to relieve pain and ease the suffering and discomfort. Through what, I can only imagine, its being an arm of social worker services. Neither of us is enduring physical pain, and I have not much faith in the healing power of words, not words that people are paid for anyway. But they make a big deal of it, so we agreed. Anyway, I have a while before the scheduled appointment.
The phone rings: a plaintive plea from the youngest who has left his lunch at home. He says he doesn't need it soon. His lunchtime isn't until 12, he says. I decide to deliver it at once, before the power cuts out and before the palliative care call. The driveway is littered with broken branches. I pick up a few of the largest, and toss them down the bank behind the house. The road to Schaghticoke is clear, if you don't count the garbage cans which are blown over treacherously close to the highway. I deliver the goods to the school, and make it almost to my house. An approaching car blinks its headlights continuuously so I slow down
It's still early. I am scheduled to participate in a Conference Call at 9:30 this morning from the V.A. I opted not to be there in person. It is with Palliative Care. Not to be confused with Hospice Care. The goal is to relieve pain and ease the suffering and discomfort. Through what, I can only imagine, its being an arm of social worker services. Neither of us is enduring physical pain, and I have not much faith in the healing power of words, not words that people are paid for anyway. But they make a big deal of it, so we agreed. Anyway, I have a while before the scheduled appointment.
The phone rings: a plaintive plea from the youngest who has left his lunch at home. He says he doesn't need it soon. His lunchtime isn't until 12, he says. I decide to deliver it at once, before the power cuts out and before the palliative care call. The driveway is littered with broken branches. I pick up a few of the largest, and toss them down the bank behind the house. The road to Schaghticoke is clear, if you don't count the garbage cans which are blown over treacherously close to the highway. I deliver the goods to the school, and make it almost to my house. An approaching car blinks its headlights continuuously so I slow down
Wednesday, March 1, 2017
Health Care Crisis
Well, sort of. In the past year, 5 of my long time health care providers have left their practices: Goldstein, Constantino, Pietracola, Griffin and now Mastrianni. Two of them were courteous enough to send departure letters. Three have retired or so the story goes, one flew to another medical consortium, and the latest is leaving his practice and continuing his medical career with a combination of teaching and administrative work. His letter cited our 14-year relationship. I've been seeing the 5 practitioners for quite a long time, ranging from about 7 to 20 years. Only one of them was of typical retirement age, so the reason for the mass exodus is a mystery, or maybe just a coincidence.
Likewise, there has occurred an acute shortage of home health aides or caretakers. Though we are deemed eligible for services, we cannot avail ourselves of them because no one is available, either from agencies or personal referrals. The media has addressed the situation, attributing it to increases in payment for fast food workers. A friend just told me that he knows people who, in addition to paying generous salaries to their healthcare workers, also provide them health insurance and vacation pay.
Replacing the ACA will do little good if the shortage of providers impacts the delivery of affordable health care. Where is the focus on that problem?
Likewise, there has occurred an acute shortage of home health aides or caretakers. Though we are deemed eligible for services, we cannot avail ourselves of them because no one is available, either from agencies or personal referrals. The media has addressed the situation, attributing it to increases in payment for fast food workers. A friend just told me that he knows people who, in addition to paying generous salaries to their healthcare workers, also provide them health insurance and vacation pay.
Replacing the ACA will do little good if the shortage of providers impacts the delivery of affordable health care. Where is the focus on that problem?
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