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James Lord's avatar

Last February 7th, 2023, my stepmother suddenly dropped to the floor in the home she shared with my elderly Dad, who was almost totally dependent on her for care. She had called Emergency Services to come to their home after he had a fall, but while ES was inside the home, she herself succumbed. She died either on the spot, or in the ambulance, I don't know which.

My brother called me from out of state at something like 4 am to notify me. We had been expecting my Dad to go first, but not so. I was the only one in a position to do so, so I wound up flying east same day to stay with my Dad. I was with him for 5+ weeks, frantically trying to manage their multi-acre property, complete with a score of animals that included cats, dogs, and horses. While I was there, the elderly horse named Coffee dropped in her stall, and I dealt with the vet to get her up again. After we got her up, she still died in her stall the next morning.

Adding to that, I was rushing my Dad to medical appointments. Cardiologist. Hematologist. Podiatrist. I was scrambling to find a place for him to stay with assisted living. I had to get him tested for TB, I was getting the run-around due to HIPAA. Finally, we found a place for him to stay.

He has to get to the hematologist every 2-4 weeks for a transfusion. On the phone, my uncle read off a figure on a medical statement, probably medicare, of the dollar figure attached to a 2-unit (4 hour) transfusion. It's stunning. The figure I recall hearing, bearing in mind that I did not see this myself, was $157,000. Each session.

In November of 2021, the report I heard was that my Dad was given 3 months to 6 months MAX to survive. That was nearly 3 years ago.

What a bitter mix of emotions it is to want the best for my Dad but to see that for my uncle, his executor, to keep him going involves expenses that cumulatively bring down nations.

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