Breaking Down II

    One of my friend's said that she had a similar flu bug.  My wife said that I was simply drained and thus due to get sick.  But there was something different at work here.  And to be clear, when I use the term "breaking down," it is used as a far cry from those who suffer from truly traumatic incidents, the over-stressed single parent or caregiver, the returning soldier, the spouse of the at-home dementia victim, etc.  No, those people are to be given full credit for not breaking down, as much as they deserve to.  Somehow, their bodies have endured and continue to endure the onslaught, the daily, almost hourly pressure of the child wailing, the deadlines passing, the stove still being left on.  It doesn't end...or at least, doesn't seem as if it will end.  For some, their venting heads outward, anger or an unnatural emotional reaction to something, often resulting in a surprised partner's reaction at the least, or a violent intervention or worse when things get out of hand.  For most of us, we've partially been there, the trivial things suddenly piling up into a larger and larger pile until it seems to topple over on us.  We explode, albeit in different ways.  Frustration, a things-going-wrong day, a speeding ticket, a throwing up of our hands at the sky as if to say, "what else?"  And of course, our troubles are usually just that...trivial.  We're not paralyzed or struggling to breathe or about to get evicted with our babies or just been given a terminal diagnosis.

    And yes, I understood all of that.  But still, as tired as I was, I thought that I had held up quite well, having gotten through a majority of the cleaning and closing of her house for the time being, gotten my mom onto and off of the plane, got her settled into her new place (after much searching and outfitting), got her through the emergency visit after her arrival and even felt I was normal (my wife, however, said that I was a grouch).  And then, I seemed to hit a wall.  And here once again, this wasn't the good wall that runners seem to hit, an obstacle for your body to mentally overcome and once done so, propel you onward to victory.  No, this was something where my body was still willing to move on, but my emotional and probably organizational brain was saying, I'm taking a break.  And so I slept.  Pure exhaustion, I thought, but then I kept sleeping...ten hours (seven is ideal for me), then twelve, then more.  Up for a glass of water, a peek at the clock, then back to sleep.  By the afternoon, I got up thinking, "boy, I sure needed that," and then went back to bed, reading a bit and wondering why I was so tired and then...I glanced at the clock.  I had fallen asleep again.  And through it all, I could hear my wife answering the phone, telling my brother and my mother and my friends that I was asleep or that I was simply too tired to talk.  And like a bad Tom Cruise movie where he's drugged asleep again...I feel back asleep.  It was pure ignorant bliss.

    Likely for many of you, you might shake your heads about now and wonder...so?  Happens all the time.  But for me, this was a life moment, a first, a viewing of my body not coping.  What I thought were bug bites soon turned into blisters then scabs and began itching like crazy (however, just around my thighs and thankfully the number stopped when they hit six).  Stress?  Well, I glanced at a mental health site and found that my few symptoms didn't appear to be a match.  Still, the WebMD site offered this: The first step to controlling stress is to know the symptoms of stress.  But recognizing stress symptoms may be harder than you think.  Most of us are so used to being stressed, we often don't know we are stressed until we are at the breaking point.  There was that word...breaking point.

    But then after two days of dodging calls and responsibilities and such, I woke up, a bit groggy but about 90% ready to tackle the world again.  Which was a good thing because that's when the insurance organization (as in organizing the paperwork) began.  But before I start on that, I had to wonder just what had happened to me?  Was it a collapse of sorts, a time-out for my brain and body to recharge, to simply pull most of the plugs and say "stop" (is this what happens when even those things don't work and the body has to short-circuit the body with a stroke or heart attack?).  Who knows?  But it was fascinating to see, not only for me to enter but also for me to leave, a quick tour of just how far I could push my body before it overrode me and called it quits, the one-two punch of brain and body both being ready for a little shut-eye.

    So, to finally end this etch-a-sketch of why I was gone so long and not writing, let me throw in one more (still unfinished) bit of advice for those of you perhaps considering doing a similar things for a loved one, that is, moving them closer to you and across state lines.  Get ready for some major headaches with insurance.  Home health, rehab, any of those orders...your primary care physician only can give those orders (and again, this is in my mother's case with her military HMO)...not her surgeon, not the local doc, not the facility's on-site doc; only her primary care physician.  Okay, I said, let's find one in this new state since so many are listed as "accepting new patients;" but you may discover that many of these pages haven't been updated in years so that new patient stuff...out the window.  I eventually began calling pediatricians after exhausting all of the geriatric, general, and family doctors that "accepted" new patients.  Finally, my wife's mother's doctor (closed to new patients) said that she would take her in...in six weeks (her earliest opening).  We'll take it, I screamed (but excitedly, not angrily or out of frustration, although admittedly there likely was some of that).  And did I mention that you first have to discover that many of the doctors on the list (that is, the "updated" list) will no longer accept that type of once-accepted insurance that got them on the list?...more to cross off.  So what about home health care and her prescriptions now running out.  I called her insurance.  They can't talk to me due to not having seen my Power of Attorney statement (which I had already registered with my mother's former PCP)...could I fax that in to a special number?  Certainly.  The next day, not received.  Well, it actually might have been received but processing usually takes five to seven business days.  Call back then.  Oh, and nobody is in the office over the holidays.  Okay, my mother's former PCP hears the story, sympathizes and, since they're still registered as her PCP with the insurance company, will send in the referral numbers.  Hooray, I say and excitedly tell my mother.  The next day, nothing had been received.  I call the PCP back and am told that their referral people say that referrals have to be sent to a specific company and not to the insurance company.  I call the insurance company...not true, they tell me, as they need to pre-approve the referral.  I call the PCP back who agrees to send in the referrals to the insurance company.  The next day, nothing has been received.  I call back the PCP.  Turns out that the insurance company wants the referrals only on their forms and have thus rejected all of the earlier submissions.  The PCP says that they will resubmit on the correct forms.  I call the next day...nothing has been received.  Says the PCP, the weekend is coming and the new forms are quite long and need to be filled by hand; they will try to get them in by the end of the day.  Are you still following all of this?  Her surgeon tries to intervene to get my mother some help but laws prevent his orders from crossing state lines...yup, only a PCP can do that.

   So, my mother has patiently accepted that the six week deadline will likely be the first chance she will have for health care or additional rehab (her recent fall and visit to the ER restarts the case as a new incident).  And did I mention that the insurance company added one more thing...she needs to register the new PCP before she can visit her...or the tab is on her.  Hmmm, I'm starting to feel a bit tired again...but at least this time, I'm ready to listen to my body and brain.  Time for another 18-hour doze?...just washed the sheets, let's hop in, shall we?