Pages

Tuesday, October 31, 2017

Buy aconites


The bottom bit of my October calendar says “Buy aconites.” I’ve been looking at that directive for the last thirty one days, since I turned over to October. Buy aconites. I haven’t a clue what aconites are. I’ve spent thirty one days not bothering to learn.

That I don’t know is interesting, not alarming. I simply am not motivated to find out. It has occurred to me, over the course of the month, I must have written this before the accident in March. It is written in legible cursive.



Since the accident my handwriting ability is gone, illegible. My printing is awful, too. Little right hand fine motor control. Even silverware is awkward. Fortunately, fifteen years of watching my son-in-law’s continental style gave me courage, and I find myself fairly adept. Even a little smug. I’m better, when he has a mustache.

Before I turn the page and forget aconite forever, I Googled it. They are Eranthis, or wolfsbane, a herbaceous perennial. I recognize them as the little yellow flower that Weaver watched for every spring. How ironic, both our lives have changed so this year. This very week she is off line and moving from the farm she shared with The Farmer for three decades.

When I thumbed forward to October and directed myself to purchase aconites I had every intention of adding another spring flower to my cottage garden. Now I’m barely concerned with the weeds. 

Even the calendar no longer interests me. I have not ordered a new one for next year. When I clean out the files for the year, I’ll probably pitch the fifteen or so lined up in a file folder. Or, put them in a basket on the closet shelf. I’m comfortable with the Google calendar now, but not with writing on my paper calendar.

Today I had a letter from a Medicare auditor, about a claim from a provider of cognitive therapy. It was the claim for the therapists in July who helped me figure out to remember through the list app on my phone. The claim is denied; Medicare doesn’t provide this. But, Medicare did provide it in the hospital.

Makes me angry. Trying to figure out who I am and who I’ll be is like treading molasses. Those therapists did me a service, and now they won’t be paid. I’m working on a letter to the Medicare auditor. I’ve turned the page on aconites.







26 comments:

  1. I don't understand the health care system in the US, Joanne. Good luck with it!

    ReplyDelete
  2. What I do know is that both you and Weaver are resilient women built to last! And like an aconite, or any other type of spring bulb, you are slowly reemerging (how's that for poetic?). I'm sorry you have to go through all of this hassel with insurance just because you had the misfortune of having an accident. -Jenn

    ReplyDelete
  3. Your priorities have changed, and your focus shifted. And echo other commentators.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Eventually, EC, I will get it. I think I'll go for a walk today, to the end of the street and back.

      Delete
  4. You'll get there whether you get aconites or not. As will the Weaver, you two are my heroes. Crappy Medicare hardly pays for anything, though I have to pay them almost all of my Social Security, I'm a retired teacher and they pretty much screwed us out of our SS even though we paid into it prior to becoming teachers.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Get some aconites Joanne. I've got to get my bulbs in the ground too. Medicare doesn't cover psychological services now either. I have pondered about not even watching the news anymore.

    ReplyDelete
  6. I wonder what the logic is behind paying for cognitive therapy in hospital and not paying for it after discharge? It makes no sense to me. Which doesn't change the fact it's not covered, but . . .

    I'm shocked to hear you are having so much trouble with fine motor control and just mentioning it now. You are a tough lady. It's fortunate that we live at a time when we can tap out messages rather than write with a pen. And enter important stuff into a phone with the same tapping. Hugs from here, J.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Hari OM
    ...what Jenny said in para 2... having had the privilege of 'feeling' your energy, I can also now well appreciate the frustration.

    The aconite known as Wolfsbane or Monkshood is a Delphiniae relative and is blue; the image you show is "Winter Aconite" which is the eranthis hyemalis and a relative of the buttercup (Ranunculaceae) - different species altogether. The first one, the blue one, is the one used in medicine for treatment of aches, sprains and bruising.

    None of which you wanted to know. But I just love your garden such as it is and I know how much you have loved it, till now. As was said above, your priorities are changed and that is just fine... though that bright yellow smiler greeting you in spring might bring a little light to the heart? Am also sending out huggies. YAM xx

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. aha! thank you, now I don't have to look up my old herbal book. I didn't realise there was a winter aconite.
      I apologise for butting in here.

      Delete
  8. You and Weaver are my inspiration Joanne.I often think about you.

    ReplyDelete
  9. I thought that 'buy aconites' might have been a reminder about some share-dealing.

    ReplyDelete
  10. Insurance can be so frustrating, irritating, and not very "insurer-y" Sorry you're having to deal with this.

    Blessings~

    ReplyDelete
  11. Is there an administrator at the hospital you can call to help you, Joanne? When my daughter was in the hospital in Dayton a couple years back I remember there were people whose job it was to help navigate those conversations. It's not fair that you should have to sort it all out (or pay for it yourself)! Good luck to you. Why is Weaver moving from her farm?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. The Farmer died earlier this year. How's that for a kick in the stomach. She's going to a cottage in a village near her son.

      Delete
  12. insurance is not for our benefit. perhaps this bill should be forwarded to the big yellow bus. sorry to hear about the fine motor control and the lack of enthusiasm. practice might help with the former and perhaps the latter will come with time. get the aconites anyway. you'll be glad you did.

    ReplyDelete
  13. In a past garden I had aconitum, which looks different than this, but Pictured here for the record: https://goo.gl/PnTv6c). It could be used as a poison affecting the heart. Mind you, I didn't. :)

    ReplyDelete
  14. I think it's very unfair for Medicare to change the rules like that. I thought Aconites were Monk's Hood? I'll have to check my old Herbal book, it should be in there.
    I'm sad that you've lost so much, I didn't realise handwriting ability and handling silverware was also not as it once was.

    ReplyDelete
  15. When I first saw the bit about aconites I wondered if you were planning on doing someone in. Now we have our answer...

    ReplyDelete
  16. I wish you could get every therapy you need free xx

    ReplyDelete
  17. I can't raise any enthusiasm for what might have been the right thing to do three months ago. It isn't anymore for me so I live for the moment. It seems to work. Aconites are common here but like a wild ditch flower that spreads.

    ReplyDelete
  18. The big bus should pay those bills, but I know that you have to wait awhile for that.

    ReplyDelete
  19. This type of denial just pisses me off! What can we do?

    ReplyDelete