23 October 2024
I spent the morning trying to appeal the Livanta denial. I actually reached someone twice. But I was cut off both times and the third attempt got no response other than a leave-your-number. But I don't want to have this conversation on the bus.
That's when I found out the discharge had been canceled, presumably by Dr. Pondicherry, who had just taken the reins. So the appeal and the denial and appeal of the denial are all moot. And Medicare will cover her for a few more days.
I got to the hospital about 1:30 and the nurse, who has been scanning her bladder (she hasn't urinated all day) tells me she'll page Dr. Pondicherry so we can chat. And we do.
Dr. Pondicherry says she has a physical therapy team coming in at 3 p.m. to try to get Joyce up. So I stay. She has been medicated for pain since 11 a.m. to make it easier on her.
At three, two physical therapist join us and we begin to cajole her to get up.
But she resists, screaming that she can't do it, it's too painful. Dr. Pondicherry points out that screaming won't help.
Joyce manages to swing her legs to the side of the bed before she retreats. Then she manages to sit up halfway before lying down again.
We cajole and cajole. Pondicherry thinks she's afraid, so she reassures her that we're all there to help her. She won't fall.
And eventually she sits on the side of the bed. Then we all grab hold of her and lift her up so she's standing in front of a walker. She doesn't want to walk, but she does stand up for a couple of minutes, which is more than she's done in a long, long time.
Everyone is satisfied as she sinks back on the bed and lies down. Dr. Pondicherry thinks she'll do better tomorrow. I wish.