Medi-Cal

Tomorrow is Easter. It's been a challenging month. But it's almost over. Today I got the papers together, requested by MediCal, to prove that Paul should stay eligible for their program, so they'll continue to pay for his nursing home care.

They did this last year too, ha, right after they approved him. So it looks like once a year, right around tax time, I'll have to pull out the bank statements, my work-pay stubs,.....the title on the car, stuff like that to prove we don't have a bunch of money squirreled away.

They give you about a week and a half to pull it together and send it in to 'em. It's sort of like an unspoken threat. If you don't do it right, and on time, you get dumped and have to start all over again. I understand, the state is trying to find ways to save money, cut the budget...So that's why I'm doing this paper sifting now. I'll feel a lot better about chocolate Easter bunnies knowing I got my papers all lined up today.

The Heavy

I know I've been slacking with keeping things up and moving on my beloved blog....but, for heavens sake, I've been busy writing songs. So I thought I'd let you in on one of my new ones, something I wrote 2 days ago in fact, and since I've been at home this weekend nursing a sore throat, I thought I'd learn how to use iMovie as well (please forgive the indulgences)...

The song is called The Heavy and there are times we all have to play the role. I've done it at my husbands nursing home enough times now that they are afraid to tell me that the hearing aids have gone missing again. I've come to like the nurses there quite a lot, they do the work that most of us would run away from, and they do it day after day. I don't know how they have the stamina, honestly. I find it difficult to go in and take Paul out once a week. The smells, the hungry looks from the tenants. I can honestly say, it hasn't gotten easier.

* * *

We normally take Paul out for a few hours. Today we drove into downtown Encinitas, two blocks from the beach, very near our apartment, it has the feel of old surf country Southern California, like I remember Newport and Laguna Beach having as a little kid.

Paul and Alexander were up for a frozen yogurt and as we drove through the green light, next to the popular dessert place, a bicyclist ran through his red light and was hit by a young motorist. Right before our very eyes. He rolled over the hood and windshield and fell on his side. The motorist, who looked no more than 19 got out to see the bicyclist hopping up and brushing off his limbs. He was okay.

This was just a block away from the Big Hill where Paul had his initial brain injury, on a bicycle, in 1995 (April 15th). It was all a big memory cluster for me. But Paul didn't even notice the bicyclist and i took a breath, we parked and had a treat.

The memory of that day still lives on in me, not in Paul. He's done with it, as he is done with many of his memories. Fortunately he still remembers me and Alexander, and if he doesn't, then he does a remarkable job of enjoying the company of strangers. And that is good enough for me.