After no luck getting insurance to re-evaluate my case and reinstate my therapy coverage, I was left to get myself walking again. I battled a serious bout of depression, but had a strong support system that encouraged me to never give up. To push through the tears, the extreme loneliness, the fear I’d never get any better than I was. I had extreme anxiety that the life I knew, and the future I was trying to build before I got sick, would be gone. So I pushed through it. Everyday, I’d do the exercises the PT’s taught me when I worked with them. My ex pushed me to work on standing. Starting with just a few seconds at a time, then small pivots from the bed to the wheelchair and back. Eventually taking small shuffle steps as I pivoted. After a random call from someone who turned out to be the woman who saved me, a patient advocate from BCBS got the ball rolling again. I don’t know what she said but one day in early November, the physical therapists showed up at my room for an evaluation, to get me transferred to another, more intense therapy facility.
That happened on a Tuesday, and was supposed to be just an evaluation, but turned out to be the catalyst for the remainder of my PT. After that, the days left covered by insurance were approved and therapy started again! It was hard, but I can look back now and see that my body just wasn’t ready for the rehab schedule determined by insurance. I beat myself up, day after day, day in and day out, about not being able to progress as fast as insurance said I should. The therapists kept encouraging me, telling me everyone progresses at their own pace, and that covid really causes a lot of damage to the body. Which was clear because I was a perfect example of that. I worked to keep focus on my recovery and my mind positive, but it was incredibly difficult. This facility was awful.
The idiocy I dealt with was unbelievable. I was given a weekly menu to choose daily meals from. The idea was to circle the option you wanted for lunch and dinner, but you only get 1 option for breakfast, but you did have a choice of bacon or sausage, and juice or milk. Logically, I chose bacon and milk, but didn’t realize I needed to circle the breakfast meal as well. So many mornings, I only got a couple pieces of bacon, and it was a roll of the dice if I was going to get milk or juice, no matter what I had circled. The lack of logic when processing menu requests floored me. It didn’t seem possible to me that they could be so unable to feed sick people.
Then there’s the food itself. The Google reviews on this place were mostly about how amazing the food was. So much so I had to wonder if they were deleting any negative reviews and that’s all the reviews that were left. Snacks were offered, as well as off menu meals like sandwiches and salads, but when you asked for them, the kitchen made me feel like it was inconveniencing them with my request. Twice I got food poisoning from the salad. The first time was mild, but the second time lasted a good 12 hours. The nurse they sent in couldn’t find a vein for my IV, so they sent in an outside contractor to do it. At 4am. By this point, the symptoms had greatly subsided, but I still needed the fluids, so I didn’t argue although the whole process seemed strange. They also contracted out when x-rays were needed, and once I was also awakened at 530am for that. But whatever. Again I needed the services so it was fine.
The staff was another gem of this facility. Constant requests to all staff members about varying topics took forever to be resolved, and some not resolved at all. For example, I have requested on 10 separate occasions that my Covid vaccination record be given to me, and I still don’t have it as of the writing of this blog. My next step is to go up there and wait until someone gives it to me, even if it takes several hours. No one returns calls or emails, so there’s no other option to explore.