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The Collapse
8/20/05
An aeful lot has happened in the last few months. Here is but one update of many: The Notice.
Holiday card 2004-2005 text
Update: 12/20/04
Click here for the new update
Update: 11/8/04
Click here for the new update
Update: 9/15/04
MITCHELL, NINA P.(nee Johnson), Sat., Sept. 11, 2004; beloved wife of the late Widman C. Mitchell; dear mother of Diana Stephens and Flint C. Mitchell; dear sister of Elsie Palmer and Vivian (Rell) DuBois; dear sister-in-law, aunt, great-aunt, cousin and friend.
Funeral from FEY Funeral Home, 4100 Lemay Ferry Rd., south of Lindbergh, Thurs., Sept. 16 at 12 noon. Interment National Cemetery. Mrs. Mitchell was a member of the Bonsai Society of Greater St. Louis and the St. Louis Art Assn. IN PARLOR AFTER 3 P.M., WED.
Update: 9/7/04
Tomorrow it will be two years since this nightmare started. Life has gotten a bit better foir me here. I spend most of my time on the internet, often stumbling on remnants of my past. I put up a lot of web pages, and posated a lot of stuff on usenet. Look me up on any search engine: apparently on my few years on the net has touched a lot of peoples' lives.
My plan is still the same: sell enough stuff on ebay so tht I can move out.
There is serious talk of the home being shut down. The care is apparently inadequate. I can take care of myself, so I don't notice those things. A lot of the less able people here tell me that the standard of care is very poor.
On the 9th, a judge will rule whether the home should be shut down. Until then the place is in a sort of limbo. They can't take anyone in, because Medicaid/Medicare won't pay them for new admissions. They can't hire people long term: they have been hiring nurses and aides from temp agencies.
The workers are on edge. I decided to walk into town to get a few things done. It's only a two mile walk, and it's a trip I have made before. I signed out, but still everyone in charge was in a panic. One of the workers picked me up in his car, while I was on my way back. If he'd have waited another 5 minutes he would have met me inside.
The state really wants to close the place down. So things are changing, to try to bring the place up to code.
For a long time, I did a lot of cooking at the home. I never cooked anything in my room. That's not allowed, presumably because of poor wiring. I would cook stuff in the 200 hall nurse's station, in a closed room.
I had a bread baker and a pizza baker I bought from thrift stores. I would bake bread, pizzas, and even an occasional apple pie. I'd wash everything out, and there was no problem with dirty dishes. The people working there loved the smell when I cooked, and occasionally I would give them samples. Usually I would share it with the residents.
I was told that had to stop. The standard lame-ass excuses that people use when they are doing something for no reason were trotted out:
*"It's a fire hazard."
*"People have been complaining/concerned."
And so on. I agreed to the cooking ban.
I had enough ingredients for three pizzas. I cooked them on the weekend when the big bosses weren't there, making sure to let the nurses have the last pizza..
When the aides heard I could no longer cook, they werte shocked, outraged-- and resigned to it, like I was.
God, I want to get out of here.
Oh, my doctor finally got that form signed and sent to Ahepa. I was wrong: the wait at Ahepa isn't a year.
It's two years.
Update: 7/30/04
I mailed out that item I sold on the 2nd, and got a good feedback from the buyer. It was as easy as I thought it would be: I went on Paypal, printed a mailing label, paid the postage online, and then mailed it from the home.
The apartment search is as frustrating as ever. Back in February, I sent in an application to Ahepa apartment. In March, they sent me a form to send to my doctor. It's just to conirm that I am handicapped, and thus entitled to get an apartment at Ahepa. I sent it to my doctor the day after I got it.
Months passed. I called Ahepa again. No, I was not on the waiting list yet. My doctor hadn't sent the form in. So they sent me another form, and I signed it and sent it back to them. Hopefully, they will have better luck getting my doctor to sign the form.
The waiting list at Ahepa is about a year. And I won't even be on the list until August. Sigh...
My original plan was to scrape up enough money to upgrade my computer here (it's a Frankenstein computer, assembled from thrift store parts). Someone from the B 9 Robot Builder's Club will be sending me a laptop, which will be quite helpful. I will be able to direct any money I earn to escaping this nightmare world, instead of pouring it into my computer.
I befriended a beautiful, affectionate tortoiseshell calico cat. She was a stray, and like all strays she was always hungry, and very,very affectionate. I entertained thoughts of adopting her when I left the home. Someone else, the daughter of a patient at the home, came by and picked her up.
I will miss that cat terribly, but it's for the best. She shouldn't have to wait while I manage to get out of here.
I have about 30 items I plan on putting up on ebay. I'd put all 30 up at once, but I don't have photos for all of them. I'll be spending the day on the net, downloading pitures of whatever items I can. The stuff ranges from the valuable (a couple of gold items) to the probably next to worthless (a PDA that doesn't work). Interestingly enough, I have had great luck selling stuff that doesn't work on ebay. Apparently there are a lot of tinkerers out there who enjoy a challenge. Every nonworking item I put up for auction in the past sold.
I have a big day today: all day on the internet. When I go to the library to get on the net I usually pack a good lunch and stay there all day. Witihin walking distance of the library are a Walgreen's, a bank and a Dairy Queen.
I'd go to the library every day, but it's way too far to walk. I have to use something called Call a Ride, which is St. Louis' way of providing transportation to areas it doesn't want to provide bus service for. A trip to the library costs me $10.00 round trip. That's a lot, but it beats staying at the home.
I will be back with another update in a few days: I'll be going back to the library a couple of times before my auctions close to check them out.
Click here to view my ebay auctions
Update 7/1/04:
The item sold on ebay. And, wonder of wonders, I have discovered that I don't need to walk to my local post office: they'll pick up the package for me. I even went to Paypal.com and printed out a mailing label. All I have to do is just hand the package to them, and that's it.
Which reminds me: I need to get some packing tape. Luckily enough, there is a Walgreen's within walking distance of this library.
The B9 robot builder's club continues to be helpful. I should be online again on my own, thanks to their help, in the near future.
Thanks again, guys! I apreciate the help.
Update 6/28/04:
I have been receiving e mail from the members of the b9 robot builder's club. Jeez, this has got to be the greatest group of people ever. They have been very suympathetic, and very helpful. I never realized I had so many friends.
I have somethign up on ebay. It's kind of funny: I managed to change my ebay e mail address only because I somehow managed to get a Paypal debit card. And I'm doing it from a library computer. Luckily enough, I am within walking distance of a post office (about a mile). That's simple work, even with a wooden leg. :)
Now, if I can sell the blasted item, and the guy pays by Paypal, and I can get to my post office the next day. Ah, the if factor.
You can see why I want to sell the item. Having something that valuable in a place where theft is an accepted daily thing is not a good idea. Anyway, here is the URL:
An entirely too valuable item
Update 6/21/04:
No apartment for me. Bad credit, you know. I do wonder how many people there are in the world who both a) need subsidized housing, and b) have perfect credit. No wonder the place had apartments available.
6/14/04
Hi guys! I will have the web page up and running in a few weeks.
Until then, I am still waiting on that blasted apartment. Another apartment I sent an application for is making me wait. I called them up and asked about the standing of my submission. Nothing so far.
Oh well. When you're poor and handicapped, you learn two things:
1) To expect to get stomped on, and
2) To wait. And wait and wait and wait and wait.
Catch you later, folks.
PS: Some jerk from England bought my old lisfan.com website domain. Amazing. I love people that try to make money from the misfortunes of others.
5/30/04
Dear Friends:
I guess some of you are wondering where I have been. It's been a very long journey, and it's still not over yet.
It all started in June of 2002. My mother became sick: the upshot of it was that she needed to be taken to a nursing home.
My mother decided that the house had to be sold. I had to straighten the place out and find a job. I started work on both.
After three interviews, I got a job. It was with a telemarketing agency.
One day I looked down in the shower. A couple of my toes had turned purple. I figured that somehow I had injured them. No big deal.
I started work. A few days into the job, I noticed that I no longer felt the desire to eat. No big deal. A girl sitting next to me at the job complained of a strong smell. No big deal.
My left foot started hurting almost constantly. No big deal. I would go to the doctor on the upcoming labor day weekend, get it all taken care of, and then get back to work that Tuesday.
Saturday night. I began to hear voices. "Don't go to the doctor. We will figure out what is wrong with you. We'll tell you, and then you can tell the doctor." No big deal.
I yelped from the pain that night. I had severe diarrhea. By Sunday morning, I bit the bullet and drove to a clinic.
From the clinic, an ambulance took me to a local hospital. I had gangrene, a complication of diabetes.
A couple of toes were amputated. And then the fun began.
In short order, they found my arteries were blocked. I got a five way bypass. They had to keep operating on my foot, cutting more and more of it off. I went to live in a nursing home.
Meanwhile, the incision where they had opened my chest had become infected. So they had to operate on me again to cut out the infection. At the same time, they found another infection in my foot. So they finally cut it off.
Another doctor examined my stump. He figured I would have two choices: either leave the foot stub intact and never walk again, or cut it off and walk with a prosthesis (artificial leg). He did some exploratory surgery to confirm his diagnosis. He told me the news while I was still groggy from the anesthesia. "Cut it off," I said.
Weeks passed. My leg stump had healed. They measured me for a prosthesis. I went back to a previous hospital to take rehab. After a week, I was walking quite well with a cane. And then they discovered another problem: my chest was still infected.
At the same time, I had to go back to my house and clear as much of my stuff out as I could. Friends came by to help me-friends that were, in retrospect, all too eager to help me. Most of my stuff got left behind, but the most valuable items were hauled away and stored.
They had to operate on my chest again. They had to cut out my sternum and pull my pectoral muscle over to cover the hole. The surgery had to be done in two parts. On the first night, they pulled out my dressings from the wound. It's a strange feeling, having air rush in though your chest.
Back to the nursing home. I was healing up fine. I started walking, first with a cane, and then without one.
I had been on vancomycin, a powerful antibiotic. That was finally discontinued. I could get out of the nursing home. This was in July of 2003. I kept trying to find a subsidized apartment, I tried to get on SSI, and so on.
The social worker at the nursing home was supposed to help me. I finally did get SSI (supplemental security income). The fact that I am still at the home shows how well he does his job.
I managed to find a place on my own, and have submitted my application It's not a certain thing, as my being in the hospital meant not working-so credit card bills piled up. They might just refuse to rent to me.
To top it all off, many of my alleged "friends" decided that they would rather just keep my stuff. The big prize: my computer, which has all of my business files on it.
It isn't all bad. I have found a lovely young lady who works at the home here. As soon as I can get out, we can start dating (the home has rules against employees dating residents).
And so that's where I am now. Sorry I have not been able to contact any of you any sooner, but I have been rather busy.
This site used to have a guestbook, but it became a magnet for porn spam. So it's been removed. If you want to comment on this page, please e mail me.
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