I still got it…..sort of…..

Caregivers, Humor, Medicare, Uncategorized, , , ,

As I enter the stage of life called “aches and pains,” I am sometimes rewarded with a girlish moment.

I went to visit my mother-in-law in the assisted living facility shortly after we moved her in there. I tried especially hard to get her involved in activities that were age appropriate. She was, after all, 94 years old, so I didn’t think she needed to learn how to play bridge or try Zumba. But she could go to the sing-alongs, play bingo for 25 cents a game, and sit at the big puzzle table with other ladies and gents and gently touch the pieces while looking for their ideal slot.

So off we would go to the activity of the day. I didn’t mind playing bingo or helping with rudimentary crafts, And I loved ice cream sundae Wednesday. Yeah, that was pretty terrific. My mother-in-law loved that too. We shared a common appetite for a good sundae on Wednesday.

I would go two or three times a week, just to make sure she wasn’t sitting in her apartment sleeping while watching TV. My mother-in-law was a very social person. She was charming and enjoyed talking to people. The aides loved her because she was kind and she was interested in what you had to say. I wanted to encourage her to have places to go and people to talk with.

I became a ‘regular’. A certain contingent of the locals who engaged in the same activities were friendly and chatty with me on all my visits.

On some days, I might be dressed up, if I were going to or coming from a business meeting. It would be like CHEERS when I would go through the lobby, the activites room, the dining hall ,or down to the nurses station. People who lived there and worked there would say, “hey”, “hello”, “Hi Cathy, how are you?” Very pleasant ,indeed.

On this day, I was looking pretty spiffy, and went down to the mailboxes to check for my mother-in-law’s mail. As I exited the elevator, there was a gentlemen, who I didn’t know, walking slowly with a cane coming towards me with a small pile of mail in his hands.

“Hello,” I said.

“Hello,” he said.

I thought just in that moment I detected a little sparkle in his eye. Charming, I thought.

“Well,” I said, “I see my timing is perfect.”

I glanced down at the mail in his hands to indicate that I had come just in time to get today’s mail.

“Your timing is absolutely perfect, ” he said.

I swear to you, he looks me up and down, a smile of approval slowly spreads across his withered face and he said:

“Are YOU moving in here?”

I would have flicked my hair, but it’s short. I just gave him my best girlish laugh, shook my finger at him, and moved to the mailboxes.

You just have to Laugh…….

Cathy Sikorski

And the Winner is…………….

Caregivers, Humor, Multiple Sclerosis, Uncategorized, , , , , , , , ,

As every caregiver knows, I have been frustrated so often by insurance companies and physicians offices that I, well…started a blog.

If  you’ve read my : Never call an ambulance if  you’re old…..Part 2  and  Ambulance…”part trois”….., you know that one of Medicare‘s absurd rules is how to transport the infirm. They will pay for transport from facility to facility, but they will not pay for transport from your home to any medical appointment or hospital test (with certain exceptions). So, if you are completely wheel chair bound, like my brother-in-law, have no use of your legs, and your doctor orders a CAT Scan or MRI, or even the lowly X-ray, you:

A.  Can’t get there

B.  Can’t get ON the table when you get there

C.  Better have a bucket of cash stowed somewhere to pay for private transport

After days, weeks and months of figuring out the rules, and hacking at the system. I found that if my brother-in-law could be transported upright, so that he didn’t have to get out of the wheelchair, he would have to make all the arrangements with the ambulance company and pay for it himself.

If, however, he needed to get on to a medical table for any kind of test or examination AND the test or examination was at a hospital, then Medicare would pay for the ambulance and I would still have to make all the arrangements for transport.

This is how I found that out.

Medicare denied payment of a transport for a CAT scan. I followed all the rules, contacted all the right people. Got all the pre-certs, the approval numbers and the referrals. But since I had already scheduled the scan, I just used the information the insurance company gave me and had the test done.

Several weeks later, I get the denial for payment. I made a thousand phone calls, appealed the decision, twice, and was still denied as transport not an emergency or medically necessary.

Now I had to appeal to an Administrative Law Judge. This law degree I have and over 15 years of practice in Elder Law came in handy. I jump in with both feet and file the appeal. But because I’ve been around this block many times with many people, I know that a simple paper appeal will not work. Short of asking the ALJ to come to my brother-in-law’s apartment and see how the hired caregivers get him ready for the day, I’m pretty sure the information I would send would not shift the decision.

Yay….social media…..Yay….youtube.

I get up very early in the morning and with my brother-in-law’s approval, I take that amazing little iPhone I have and make a movie of the two caregivers dressing him, washing him, lifting him out of his bed and into his wheelchair, combing his hair,  helping him brush his teeth and shave, and giving him a nice pat on the head to have a good day.

I make a copy of the video, put it on a CD (yeah the Medicare appeal system isn’t that tech savvy that I could upload it), mail it to the judge, and wait.

Lo and behold after 3 hearing cancellations by the insurance company, I get a phone call from the judge’s office saying that the insurance company has decided to pay the claim and there would be no hearing.

I take a bow and accept my Oscar for best performance by  a caregiver.

You just have to Laugh……

Cathy Sikorski

Lions and tigers and Bear Hugs…Oh my……

Caregivers, Humor, Uncategorized, , , , , , ,

Caregiver’s often feel like they have been cast in a Stephen King movie, and no one told them. A scare a day is not an unlikely scenario. One of our scares with my mother-in-law was when she got dramatically ill for unknown reasons. Even though in her 90’s, all her blood work, scans, and any test they could think of continued to come back negative. But she became pretty much unresponsive, landed in intensive care, and her body temp dropped to 90 degrees.

They put a huge piece of bubble wrap around her like a blanket and had a machine pumping hot air into the bubble wrap to try and get her temp to come up from it’s dangerously low hovering place.  They called this contraption, “the bear hug.” I kinda wanted to take one home. It looked so cozy and comfy and you could pop it for fun.

Even though Mom wasn’t really conversant, she would continuously shake her head back and forth and push “the bear hug” off of her and put her arm over top of the bubble wrap ,so that she wasn’t under the heat. Just like anyone would who was too warm under the covers. Whoever was visiting had to constantly put her back under the “bear hug” and hope for the best.

After the gazillion tests, the medical team decided that she was likely suffering from an infection that was coming from her toe. They discussed taking her toe, her foot, or even half her leg. I put my foot down (oh yeah, pun totally intended). I wanted to wait as long as possible before they would do anything like that. I just couldn’t see trying to train my mother-in-law how to walk or use a wheelchair with that kind of disability at her age.

The “bear hug” did it’s loving job, and she was moved out of ICU. Just as the doctor came in to look at the offending infected toe, it fell off right in his hand. Ack! Really, I was there with my teenage daughter. I wanted to yell, “cut!” to stop this horror film I was in, but I was afraid what they might do next.

So we were able to take Mom home in a few days, but she had to wear special surgical shoes to protect the injured foot until it healed. She was in assisted living. They would get her dressed and get her to meals. But as soon as she got back from breakfast, she would change out of those surgical shoes and into her sneakers.

This went on for a day or two and finally, I told the physical therapist to hide her shoes. Oh my God! My mother-in-law, the sweetest, kindest, gentlest soul went crazy looking for her shoes. She was absolutely convinced that my daughter was the culprit and I should  get her to confess and get those shoes back immediately. This was not completely unfounded as my daughter would occasionally take Grandma’s jewelry or refrigerator magnets as a joke when she was younger. But my daughter was 500 miles away in college, and there was no convincing Grandma that that made a bit of difference.

This battle went on for weeks, until the therapist gave the ok to return to real shoes. When the magic shoes finally reappeared, my mother-in-law said, “Well, finally your daughter has given me back my shoes!” Guess she felt like she was in a Stephen King movie.

You just have to Laugh…….

Cathy Sikorski

Um….yeah…..not paying that….

Caregivers, Humor, Uncategorized, , , , , , , ,

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

Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder……

Caregivers, Humor, Uncategorized, , , , , ,

This is a warning and a blessing for those of us who are aging….which is all of us………..there are some upsides to technological ignorance.

My husband and I took my Mom, who is a very “with it” 85 year-old, who uses her own computer and iPad, to an orchestral pop’s concert yesterday afternoon. What intrigued me about the ad I read in the paper (yes, I do still read an actual newspaper) was that the theme of this concert was Ellis Island. The concert would include live performance pieces and a series of photos on a large screen to add to the music accompaniment. It was a new piece and had been around the world and shown on Public Television. “Wow!” I thought, “this would be great for all ages!” Honestly, though the average age in that audience was easily 90 or above.  I guess Ellis Island has a certain age appeal. Now that I think of it,  most of the ads in the program were for home care and assisted living. Not kidding.

The concert is held in a beautiful fairly new theater in a local public middle school. This theater is pretty darn magnificent for 11 to 14 year-olds. My theatrical-career-yearning heart is sobbing over the cafegymatorium we used for our productions in my high school in the ’70’s. Nonetheless, I am impressed and happy to be in a theater this beautiful and with all kinds of groovy acoustic equipment, lighting panels and comfy, cushy seats for this Ellis Island extravaganza.

I tell the ticket seller that I’m excited for the concert. And he, appearing to be a long time volunteer for the orchestra says” “Well, it’s different, hope you like it!”

But, not so different from any other Pops, I think. The first half is music from Fiddler on the Roof, and a tribute to Louis Armstrong. It’s wonderful and fun to hear. Then a short break and the Ellis Island themed presentation begins.

A huge projection screen slowly decends down from the ceiling, the maestro appears, the audience claps heartily and the music begins. It’s lovely. the screen projects a million dots in gray, black and white and then ‘pulls out’ so that the photo you see is actually millions of people on the deck of a boat. There is not an empty space between any of the heads. It’s overwhelming. The photos continue with individual pictures of immigrants and places on Ellis Island. The change in each photo is timed perfectly to the music. It is grand.

The first actor appears. She reads a charming account of an immigrant from Rumania, all the while beautiful music is lowly playing behind her. When she is finished, she leaves the stage and the music begins again in real earnest. The projection screen lights up and an error message appears….”NO SIGNAL.” Again, the screen goes from gray to the cursed blue of noncompliance, and the same error message appears. There’s a tiny little groan in the audience….mostly from people under 60, I think. We all know what that error message means. And, that’s it for the photo display. The rest of the concert takes about 40 minutes and never another photo is shown.

Six more actors appear. The music continues, and it’s really quite beautiful. But the whole time now I am literally having an internal boxing match with myself about why this stupid technology isn’t working, and can’t they fix it, and just put up some pictures, and hasn’t this ever happened before, where’s the back up plan and just UGH!!!! So it’s a good concert…..no really, it is…..but I’m  a victim of my techno-google-pc(that’s private computer not politically correct)time, and I can’t get this dumb error out of my head. I’m feeling cheated of half the performance.

The show ends with all seven actors reciting Emma Lazarus’ poem that is engraved on the Statue of Liberty. When they finish the recitation they all raise one arm to the screen, where I imagine the Statue of Liberty is supposed to appear. Nope, just a blank screen.

The crowd goes wild, struggles with their seat handles and their coats and programs to raise their sweet bent old bodies for a standing ovation. And then it hits me. Maybe 5 per cent of this audience knows what went wrong. So I do a survey of one, to my Mom:

“So, how did you like it?” I ask

“It was wonderful! Thanks so much for bringing me, it was really beautiful. The music was beautiful and the actors were great. I really enjoyed it.”

“Did you notice anything wrong?”

“No, what? It seemed fine to me. What?”

“After the first actor the projector didn’t work, there was an error message and no more photos. And at the end the actors raised there hands to indicate something on the screen, but nothing was there. You didn’t see that??”

“Nope. Loved it. It was beautiful.”

See….there are distinct advantages to aging…

You just have to Laugh……

Cathy Sikorski

What’s in a name?

Caregivers, Humor, Medicare, Uncategorized, , , , , ,

The generation that I mostly have cared for in the last 20 years is the ‘greatest generation’ born in the early to mid 1900’s. These wonderful people  were often here as children and maybe grandchildren of immigrants. We grew up as children, grandchildren and sometimes great-grandchildren of immigrants. Suffice to say that hardly any of us were far from the boats or the shores of Ellis Island. As a consequence, our parents always wanted to know the ethnic derivation of the families of our school chums, our friends, our bosses, our co-workers.

This wasn’t necessarily a point of prejudice as much as it was often a point of reference. So if that nice girl Maria came home with me, was she Italian? Who were that boy, Tommy’s, people? Does that last name end in ‘ski’ or ‘sky’ because that could be the difference between Polish and Ukrainian. Our parents and grandparents just wanted to know. In some ways, I think it made them feel worldly or cosmopolitan to ‘figure out’ just where those surnames and your people came from.

When I met my mother-in-law, my husband and his entire extended family were very proud of the fact that they were 100 percent Ukrainian. My daughters have always teased me that I muddied the waters with my crazy quilt of an ethnic background that is only half Italian and nothing else on my  mother’s side that anyone can actually attest to. And, as punishment for this transgression, my daughters threaten to bury me in the “Ukie” cemetery. Yes, the Ukrainians have their own cemetery. So maybe they do want to keep out riff-raff like me. And I will haunt my daughters from the dead if they bury me there.

Since we are so dramatically aware of being politically correct, you don’t hear this kind of conversation outside of elder care facilities too much.  But once my mother-in-law was comfortably ensconced in her assisted living facility, ‘ethnic-geography’ was the game of the day.

“So, Repko, is it? Where does that name come from?”

“Is it MacClellan or McClellan, because that would be Scotch or Irish, right? ”

“Are you Pennsylvania Dutch or are you a real German?”

These are the conversations you would overhear in the lobby, the dining room and at Bingo. It seemed harmless enough because everyone engaging in the game would just nod their head or say, “Oh” and that would be the end of it.

Since it was a long-standing joke in our family that I was not Ukrainian, I thought that my ethnicity with my husband’s family was at least on the approval list.

This particular day, my mother-in-law was recuperating in rehab for a gangrenous toe. She had been very, very sick and her recovery was very slow. But within  several weeks, she was remarkably back to her old self and on the mend so that she would be released from rehab back to her assisted living apartment any day.

We took a little stroll in her new special shoes that were necessary to protect her injured toes and feet, then we sashayed back to her bedroom for a little rest. She was in such good spirits, that I was telling her about all the great things waiting for her back at her apartment.

“So there’s bingo, and your friends miss you at your table, and since the weather is getting nice we will be able to go outside for walks in the garden. Isn’t that nice?”

“Sure,” she said. “I’m getting a bit tired now. These shoes are hard to walk in.”

“I know,” I tell her. “I’m tired myself, my back has been acting up and I just can’t seem to get comfortable to sleep.”

“Oh well,” she said with a  chuckle that I recognized as “this is about me not you.” And  as we sat there in  comfortable silence in her breathtakingly warm room for awhile,we both start to nod off. Her head was lolling to the side and I was losing the battle with my eyelids, and I sort of mumble under my breath:

“Aren’t we a pair? A Ukie and an Italian….”

She sits bolt upright and says:

“YOU’RE ITALIAN???? I thought you were Polish!”

You just have to Laugh…….

Cathy Sikorski

What those toddler tantrums were REALLY training you for……

Caregivers, Humor, Uncategorized, , , ,

A friend of mine recently took a job at the Assisted Living facility where my mother-in-law spent her last few years. My friend will be a great asset to the Villa, and overall, it was a wonderful experience for us, eventually.

The first day, however, was like sending your first born to kindergarten. We had taken Mom to the facility to “check it out”, knowing full well we were already going to make it her home. ( I was going to say, “send her there” but even still those words sound so harsh….even though we KNEW it had to happen). And that tour was the disaster in my blog,  Who Knew Grandma Has Great Legs…

But we persisted with the move forward since we were still afraid that she might burn down her apartment building, or not have any nutrition but coffee for days at a time. So we brought her to our house for a long weekend, telling her that at the end of the weekend her furniture, clothing and personal items would be moved in to her new apartment and then she would move as well.

The first day of school arrives…I see her at my breakfast table having her coffee and tell her I’m going to the gym and when I get back we will shower and get ready to go.

“I’m not going. I’m not going,” she says while LITERALLY STAMPING HER FOOT LIKE A TWO-YEAR OLD! Now, my mother-in-law had an amazing sense of humor. And she is really kidding me, but I know there is a sense of panic there.

“Okay,” I say, “we’ll talk about that when I get back.”

“Don’t hurry back!” she yells after me.

As I’m working out at the gym, I realize that my best arsenal might be in remembering how I dealt with my toddlers. But I am really cognizant of respecting my mother-in-law here. We tried to include her in the process, but at 94, she wasn’t really all that interested in change.

When I return home from the gym, I hustle Mom into the shower, dress her in a darling little outfit and the protests begin:

“Why can’t I stay here and help you?” In support of that, she folded my laundry while I was at the gym, which she hasn’t done in about 5 years. Tricky little devil, this one.

“Well, Mom, because I have too many stairs, I’m not home all the time”…blah, blah blah

She is undaunted.

“Well, I can stay with  your mother. She has a big house. No one is there but her and she could use the company.”

Ugh. Remember when your little ones said “why, why, why” to everything? What did you do?

“No, Mom. Just no.”

“But…..” and she goes for it a few more times.

“No.” That’s all I say.

We get to her apartment and she is pleasantly surprised to see all her own things there set up much like her apartment that we moved her from. We go to the dining room and we let her order whatever she wants.

And this is where you know you’ve done the right thing.

She looks at her food and says:

“Who ordered this, it looks delicious!”

You just have to Laugh……………….

Cathy Sikorski

When naughty is nice……

Caregivers, Humor, Multiple Sclerosis, Uncategorized, , , ,

I have done something very naughty. I must even go so far as to admit I have done it on purpose. You will probably not agree with my decision, but in the end, was I right? If you’ve read any of my blogs….you know the answer to that.

Being a caregiver puts you in the ‘decider’ seat  more times than you care to admit. And sometimes you don’t want to be George W. Bush….you WANT someone else to be the decider. But alas, you’re it. You are the caregiver.

The hired caregivers, who do all the hard stuff, the bathing, the dressing, the cleaning up, keeping the list of needed items, they gladly call on the decider when well, when decisions must be made.

So, I get a call from Susan, head honcho caregiver:

“Cathy, your brother-in-law, is acting weird.”

“Weirder than usual,” I say, hoping that this is just happy conversation, knowing all the while that I am in for a project.

“No, not usual weird—- cranky, mean and kind of ‘out of it’ weird”, she says weirdly, knowing that I KNOW she wouldn’t call me unless there was a problem to be solved.

“Hmmmm, that sounds like, ‘you-know-what’, doesn’t it,” I say with regret.

“Yup,” she says, ” a UTI” (everyone’s worst caregiving enemy…the urinary tract infection). ” He’s weird, he’s ornery and his urine looks a little tinged with brown. So that ‘s not good.”

“Okey doke,” I say with false upbeat. “I’ll call the visiting nurse he has right now and get her to call the doctor.”

Now the reason I have to go this Chutes and Ladders way is because I have no medical authority to call the doctor and beg for an antibiotic, but since he just happens to be suffering from a bed sore right now, he has a visiting nurse once a week who I can ensnare to do my dirty work.

“Hello, Visiting Nurse? I want to ensnare you to do my dirty work,” Okay I really don’t say that.

“Hello, Visiting Nurse? I got a call from the caregivers and they think his behavior and his urine suggest a UTI. I would be ever so grateful if you would call his doctor for a prescription because it’s Friday, I can’t get him to the doctor for at least three days, and if it gets too far gone, he usually ends up in the hospital.”

“Ok,” says the Visiting Nurse, “I will call this morning and get back to you.”

By 4 o’clock, I haven’t heard from anyone. So I call the pharmacist to see if there is a prescription waiting. No, of course not. So I call the doctor’s office.

“Hi, I’m call because I know the Visiting Nurse called and the pharmacy  has no prescription.”

“Yes, we see that the Visiting Nurse called this morning, and it’s in the doctor’s inbox to process.”

“I understand that the doctor is busy,”I say patiently (really  I do) but it’s Friday afternoon, and these UTI’s can be very dangerous for this guy….so if you could just see if he can get it processed tonight……”

“I’ll put a reminder on it,” says the receptionist.

So, of course, at 8:30 that night the Visiting Nurse calls to tell me they called in a prescription, with the caveat that the nurse would take a urine sample and have it to the lab BEFORE we give him the medicine, just to make sure.

So she gets the sample (that’s it’s own blog, I’m sure). I get the meds into him the next morning, and two days later they call and tell me the sample is negative.

And here’s where I’m naughty.

Years ago, when my kids were toddlers, they would suffer from chronic ear infections. I would see it coming, take them to the pediatrician, no red ears would appear in the otoscope, and the pediatrician would send me home. A day or two later, I would be right back in that office with a kid with DOUBLE ear infections, because the symptoms were obvious to me, but not yet to the otoscope. And pretty much, every time, Dr. MOM was right.

Soooooo………I just kept on giving that antibiotic to my brother-in-law since his symptoms were so obvious to all of us caregivers, he gets really, really, REALLY sick if he gets an untreated UTI, and I just was willing to go for it. I am the decider.

I know. I know. Too many antibiotics, too must MERSA, too many super bugs. I know.

But here’s the kicker. THREE DAYS LATER, the doctors office calls me and says.

“Well, you know the test was negative for an infection, but all the other markers were questionable, and so we thought an infection was on the horizon, so just finish the antibiotic as given.

Yup, DR. MOM!!!!

You just have to Laugh……..

Cathy Sikorski

Every time I think I’m out…..

Caregivers, Humor, Uncategorized, , , , ,

The holiday season does not have an internal compass that allows you to treat every day like a holiday. In fact, I’m pretty sure that MORE, not less disasters happen during the holiday season, just as a karmic reminder that in life, there is no holiday. But a few days off can really re-charge the batteries, if you’re lucky.

I am so sleep deprived, it’s like being the mother of an infant all over again. But I have no baby to blame it on. Menopause, hot flashes, holidays, alcohol, too much food, not enough gym,those are the culprits….oh yeah, and shoulder pain, back pain, and general pain-in-the-ass middle age. That doesn’t help either.

So every time I THINK, “tonight is the night” for sleep (which I’m sure is not the same thing my husband is thinking when he’s thinking, ‘tonight is the night’), I am reminded that no caregiver is ever in her right mind.

The first time I thought this was the day after Christmas. Yay, all the hoopla is over! I can just sleep in. Everyone is well, we are all snug in our beds, no more planning, wrapping, shopping, just the blessed day of rest.

The phone rings at 7:30 AM.

“Hello?”

“Hi Cathy, this is your cousin. My Dad is in the hospital and is having surgery today and he needs to see you.”

“Umm (this because I have 25 cousins and am not sure who woke me out of an ACTUAL sleep). Okay.”

“He’s in ICU, so you have to call and ask the nurse to give him the phone or they will call you back.”

“No, I will go to the hospital, no problem.”

This uncle is my godfather, and I love him dearly. He’s a bit of a Duck Dynasty gun dealer, but I love him anyway.

So I haul myself out of bed at 7:35 AM and go to the hospital. There’s a moratorium on who can see him, ’cause his Duck Dynasty pals can be a bit overbearing. So I tell the squawk box:

“I’m here to see Mr. R, I’m his lawyer and his niece.”

Immediate entrée. I pull this lawyer card when I just don’t have time to deal with any crap. Little do I know this will come back to haunt me. I get to his room and my cousin is there with him.

“Cathy’s here now Dad, do you want to have a private conversation with her?”

“No,”says my Uncle, who is looking pretty good for a guy going into surgery, “I just wanted the hospital and everyone around here to know I have a ‘mouthpiece’ so they better watch out.

Really? I dragged my tired sorry behind out of bed the day after Christmas, so my uncle could have his lawyer as a show piece in the  ICU???? Where am I, ‘The Godfather???’ Oh, yeah, that is EXACTLY where I am.

You just have to Laugh…..

Cathy Sikorski