Tag Archives: Australia

Brussels Sprouts or Sidney Poitier?

In honor of Aunt Jean who passed away a year ago today:

Aunt Jean and two other great beauties.
Aunt Jean and two other great beauties.

Aunt Jean was an Australian blonde beauty who married my husband’s uncle in 1945. During World War II, Uncle Mike was stationed in Australia. He met Jeannie at a dance contest,  won the contest and her heart. At 18 years old, she moved to New Jersey without knowing a soul, moved in with my husband’s family and stayed here mostly, for the rest of her life.

Jeannie worked in New York City.  She had copious stories about all the famous and infamous people she met, more by accident than on purpose, which may be one of the greatest gifts most of us are missing by not listening to the tales of the elderly.

Her friend Mae was a live-in housekeeper in a high-fallootin’ building on the Upper East Side. When Mae’s employer went out of town, she was allowed to have her own guests over for dinner. So Jeannie and her friend Ellie got all dressed up just to go in the fancy building and up the elevator to Mae’s apartment.

Now the point of this story from Aunt Jean’s perspective was, as I was making dinner, she wanted to tell me how great her Irish buddy, Mae, concocted Brussels sprouts, so I could do the same. Something to do with sautéing them in onions and butter and bacon. But this is how she got to the Brussels sprouts recipe.

“So we were in the elevator going up to the penthouse and in walks a very handsome black man. My friend, Ellie is pulling at my sleeve and gesturing to me that this is someone I’m supposed to recognize. She’s rolling her eyes and trying to be cool, while the gentlemen is politely staring straight ahead. Finally, it hits me and I say:

“Excuse me Mr. Poitier, it’s so nice to meet you. Do you live in this building?”

“Why yes, I do. Do you?”

“No,” I say, “we are just visiting friends.” I said it like we weren’t visiting the housekeeper, of course.

“Well, that’s nice. And what is your name?”

“My name is Jean and this is my friend, Ellie.”

With that the elevator door opens for Mr. Poitier’s floor and as he gets off he says, “So very nice to meet you, Jean and Ellie. Have a lovely evening.”

“AUNT JEAN!” I said, “you met , Sidney Poitier????? You never told me that.”

“Oh, yes lovey that was fun, but let me tell you about the Brussels Sprouts, I’ve never had any so delicious.”

We miss you Aunt Jean, because whenever you were around….

“We just had to Laugh……”

©2014Cathy Sikorski

 

Um….yeah…..not paying that….

You think when your caregiving ends….well, your caregiving ends. But not so, intrepid caregivers. I’m now steeped in estate work and it, too has it’s unbelievable encounters. I have to call billing department after billing department to make certain that a bill is legitimate before I concede to pay. And each billing experience makes the last one look like child’s play.

Billing Experience Number One (really probably number 157)

“Hello? I have a billing question. Can you help me with that?”

“Sure.”

“What information do you need?”

” How about do you have a name and birthdate?”

“Why yes, yes I do.” And do I give her all the necessary information to retrieve the bill for my mother-in-law.

“My question is, this bill seems to have been processed by all her insurance carriers, and so there should be no balance due, and I know that she has also met her deductible.”

“Well, there is still a balance due after that.”

“No, I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure that according to the laws in Pennsylvania, if someone is on Medicare and they have a Medigap policy and both insurances have paid AND the patient has met their deductible that you must accept that as payment in full.”

“One moment, please.”

Oh boy, Muzak.

She returns pretty quickly, which in and of itself makes me happy.

“Well, ok, then. There is no balance due, but we didn’t have in our records that she was on Medicare.”

“Really? Because you just asked me to identify her by her birthdate, which is 1916, which makes her 97 years old AND you are showing on your bill that Medicare made a payment, just sayin’…”

“Well……”

And she hung up.

Billing Experience Number 2 (Actually not even 157, more like 210 by now)

“Hello. I have a billing question. Can you help me with that?”

” I will transfer you to billing.”

“Hello, I have a billing question. What information do you need?”

“Sorry ma’am this isn’t billing. Let me transfer you.”

“Hello, I have a billing question. What information do you  need?”

“Can you hold a moment?”

Of course, I don’t get to answer that question. I just get more Motley Crue Muzak.

“How can I help you?”

“I need to know if this bill for Aunt J is final?”

“Well, let me see…..hmmmm…..no, it looks like there is another bill with an additional balance.”

“Well, I’m sorry to tell you that there are no funds to pay this bill or any future bills. There will be no estate and the patient was visiting from Australia.”

“What? Australia? I don’t understand.”

Really? I’m thinking…..what’s not to understand. That seems pretty clear to me, but OK, I’ll just lather, rinse and repeat.

“Well, I’m sorry to tell you that there are no funds to pay this bill or any future bills. There will be no estate and the patient was visiting from Australia.”

“Um…ok…so could you send us a letter to that effect with a death certificate?”

“Sure. I would be delighted to do that.”

So far I’ve had to send that letter and death certificate 11 times. Do you think they would send me anything for free?

You just have to Laugh……

Cathy Sikorski

“A girl should be two things: Classy and Fabulous” Coco Chanel

My Auntie J from Australia is  fashion plate.  At 90 years of age and barely 90 pounds, she is a wisp of a girl, who never looks anything but chic. Even her ‘sweat suits’ are more along the lines of Juicy Couture than what I wear to the gym. When I met her almost 30 years ago, she was never without a matching handbag for her beautiful and expensive shoes.  In my ignorance of thinking back then(before I realized now how young 60 really is)that this was an ‘old lady’, I was also thinking, “damn, she’s a fine old gal with great taste!”

Up until last week when we had to take her to the hospital for the first time in 25 years, she had her hair done (as a blonde…..never gray) every week, and her nails done as well. She was an extraordinary example of fine grooming, beauty, grace, and the true benefit  of “just a little lipstick, never hurts.”

So after ten days in the hospital, where she was really very, very seriously ill, we took her yesterday to a rehabilitation center. For very complex reasons, she went to a center two hours away. The ambulance drivers were two young adorable men, who treated her like their very own dear grandmother. By the time we met up with them at the end of the trip, she was holding their hands and kissing them goodbye.

She had been very concerned about the fact that she was transported in a hospital gown, but I reassured her that we would take her clothes and pretty pink nightgowns to the rehabilitation center, so she could be properly dressed there.

My husband and I have been very concerned for her health during this time and my mom, a former nurse has been right by our side the whole way, comforting, advising and just being a strong shoulder. But because my mom was a white uniform, starched hat nurse of the 40’s and 50’s, she has looked askance every day at the ‘sloppy’ nurses, aides, and technicians who have come to care for Aunt J.

“Look at that,” my mom would say.

“What?”, I ‘d reply, expecting an inept stick of the needle to draw blood, or a hospital meal that was not up to snuff.

“Look at how that nurse’s trousers are dragging on the floor, and no one has their hair up in a bun or a pony tail.”

“Well,” I say, “I guess we just have to overlook certain things when we are happy with her care.”

Of course, now I’M thinking something is terribly wrong here. And then I realize that my mom has much higher standards for dress and presentation than I, or the world, does any more.

So knowing Aunt J and her true art of dressing and personal presentation, I start to wonder if this is bothering her too. She never says anything and the following incident makes me realize that for Aunt J, it isn’t about how people look to her, it’s about how she presents herself to the world.

We get to the rehab center, and one of the last things I want to make sure of, is that Aunt J knows how to push the red button to call for help. With my mother-in-law, when she moved to assisted living, and with many stories from friends about their elders, I KNOW that this ‘pushing the button for help’ thing is somehow difficult for them to comprehend.

So I disconnect the button from the clips on the side of her bed, and make sure the cord is long enough so she can have the button at her fingertips. This particular button is like a tube with a bright red button at the top.  So you would hold it in your hand, curl your fingers around the tube, and push on the bright red circle at the top of the tube with your thumb. That would be how most people would use it, and probably the easiest way.

I bring the tube close to her, and I pantomime what I want her to learn…pushing the button. And I’m telling her, “if you need help, you push this red button.” I put the tube in her hands and tell her:

“Now you practice. If you need any help, I want you to PUSH THE BUTTON.” And again, I show her what to do.

My darling, beautiful Aunt J, shakes her head in the affirmative, looks me straight in the eye with her beautiful blue-green eyes, looks at the tube that I have placed in her hand with the bright red button on top, takes her other hand, rubs the top with her index finger and promptly ‘applies’ the beautiful shade of red lipstick I have given her to her luscious lips. Classy and Fabulous.

You just have to laugh………………….

Cathy Sikorski

Please for crying out loud just do your job!

I am the caregiver for my surrogate brother-in-law, my friend who fell down a flight of stairs and has brain damage, and until she passed away in March, my blessed mother-in-law who was almost 97 years old. O yeah, and on occasion my husband’s adorable Aunt from Australia who goes back and forth between our house and other wonderful, caring relatives.

I have been caregiving for a very long time for various loved (and unloved) ones and ultimately turned my part-time law practice into Elder Care only so that I could help those with all that I have learned….mostly outside of the law, if you can believe it.

But I find the art and act of caregiving hard and hilarious. You just have to keep your sense of humor to keep going back day after day. I have a million stories as do all the other caregivers in this world, And hopefully, we can all help one another with information and an occasional laugh.

So today I have to take my brother-in-law( hereinafter referred to as “L” )to the doctor. Actually, I will just make sure he gets on the transport safely and then drive to the doctor and meet them there. He has MS and no use of his legs. This endeavor requires a lot of planning, phone calls, referrals and big huge posted notes on L’s TV stand because he often forgets what’s happening that day. It has to be between lunch and dinner or he misses his meal in the dining room. And, although we joke that he could STAND to miss a meal, he gets very cranky if he does. So three days before the appointment, with everything in place, I get a call from the Doctor’s office :

“Hello, this is the Doctor’s office, call us back immediately”

Oh crap, I think, they are going to cancel and that is a nightmare to unscheduled and RE-schedule everything. I’ll try and call back ASAP between my job, my own appointments and just general living.

“Hello?” I say, this is Cathy returning your call about L”.

“Why are you calling?” says the Doctor’s office.

“Because you told me to”.

“Oh, ok wait just a minute please.”

Holding, holding, holding, holding…I could have cleaned my entire kitchen by now.

“Oh yes, well was he here last week?”

“No”, I say, “he is coming in on Thursday”.

“Well, it’s been THREE OR FOUR MONTHS AND HE MUST SEE THE DOCTOR EVERY THREE OR FOUR MONTHS!” ,she says to me very briskly.

“Ummm, ok? Well, like I just told you, he will BE THERE ON THURSDAY!”

“O, Ok, thank you”. She says and hangs up.

Really? You didn’t see that on your computer? You had to take precious time out of my day to yell at me and then just say ok???? Really, before you called me you couldn’t check to see if he had an appointment in THREE DAYS?????/

Please for crying out loud SOMEBODY, just do your job.