Another story from our house

Here's what happened this week at our house.
Anne Plans
What’s That Laughter I hear?
Yesterday’s plan was simple. Stay off my leg and finally organize the photos. I have a plethora of pics scattered all over. OneDrive, iCloud, Google Photos. If I was stuck in a chair, at least I could impose order on one part of my life.
At 3:30 AM, my leg woke me up. I limped downstairs with my cane and saw my husband in the kitchen staring at the Keurig. He said the buttons were messed up. Ralph has Parkinson’s disease and mild cognitive impairment. I got my glasses, reset the buttons and kissed Ralph good morning. He noticed the cane and asked if he should carry my coffee. I asked if his hand tremor was steady enough for coffee duty. It was, and he brought the coffee to me.
Between us we make one fully functioning adult.
Before starting the photos, I logged onto my email and saw one from Amazon. It said I had signed up for Peacock TV. I had not. Ralph denied it, too, but mentioned he’d watched Hitchcock the other day on the Fire TV. Since I hadn’t installed anything that could stream that, I had suspicions. But I wasn’t accusing anybody.
Yet.
It had been four minutes since I got out of bed.
I went directly to Amazon to investigate. While I was there, they offered to sell me knee braces and plantar fasciitis stuff. They know me. I started a chat with someone named Natalie. She explained she had no way of seeing “from her end” how the subscription originated. Another mystery. Like the coffee buttons. Eventually, she reversed the charges and canceled the subscription.
While on that page, I noticed that the Peacock subscription had actually begun the day before. I knew for a fact that neither of us was using the TV that day. So, whatever. And Ralph is innocent. Wrongfully accused in my mind.
Still not quite time for the photos. An email from Jefferson Health Systems caught my eye. They recently bought the hospital and doctors that Ralph uses, and they hadn’t signed with our health insurance provider.
That means I have to remember to see if they’re still in-network when we enroll for next year. Then I have to figure out a way to keep Ralph from re-enrolling on his own. I set a reminder for myself in a spreadsheet I use to manage his healthcare needs.
Jefferson has a request. They want me to advocate on their behalf with Independence Blue Cross. Ah, no.
By then it was almost 5:00 AM. The Amazon thing took longer than you’d think.
I spent the next hour reworking Ralph’s medical management workbook instead of organizing photos. It sounds nerdy, but that workbook is becoming invaluable. Now when I have to remember something, it pops up on the first page.
Then, finally, photos. Right after breakfast.
I showered and ate, and it was getting close to 8:00 AM. I needed to call the elections office. My ballot had arrived, and when Ralph slit open the outer envelope for me, the return envelope got nicked. You know how fussy everyone is about these things anymore. Ralph had been helping that morning. He had used his nebulizer. The medications were in the right order. He was rinsing everything while I was looking up the number for the elections office.
Then his nose started to bleed.
Copiously.
Ralph is on blood thinners.
I got him to sit in the kitchen, leaning forward, and pinch the bridge of his nose for 15 minutes. I was hoping the darn thing would clot. But he kept releasing the pressure to “check.” I reset the time.
Eight minutes into round two and he was checking again. Oh, man. Still bleeding and still checking.
Last time, buddy. Set timer. Explained clot formation to husband. He was getting as sick of this as I was. We finally got through the fifteen minutes with continuous pressure. But it was still bleeding. Now we were forty-five minutes into this and I was a little worried.
I called his primary care doctor’s office and got transferred to a nurse. I gave her his information, emphasized the fact that he was on a blood thinner, and she told me to call the doctor that prescribed the blood thinner. That’s the hematologist. My heart was pounding, my husband was bleeding, I was afraid.
I hung up on the nurse.
I called the hematologist and had to leave a message.
Of course.
Meanwhile, Ralph was restless from sitting around. The bleeding seemed to have calmed down. Just a little smear by then. But I wanted to keep him quiet. He decided to bring the trash bin in from the curb. I didn’t want him to bend over. “When do I ever bend over?”
The hematologist’s office called back within the hour to say that they would check with the doctor and get back to me.
Then Ralph went up for his shower, which gave me something new to worry about. Would the warm water start the bleeding again?
My leg hurt. I’d ask him when he got out.
Finally, no more blood. We had lunch. Like normal people.
After lunch I dropped Ralph off at the barber for a beard trim and returned later to pick up a very handsome guy. He went up for a nap at 2:00 PM.
Photos. At last.
At 2:20 PM he came back downstairs.
At 3:00 the hematologist’s office called back. “Go to the ER if it starts again.” Thanks.
By dinner time my leg was hurting enough that I didn’t want to cook. I ordered Thai delivery. Ralph didn’t remember that he liked Thai food, but when the Massaman Curry came, he loved it. Just like the old days.
The photos didn’t get much attention. The leg got a little rest but continued to hurt a lot. I never called the elections office.
But the bleeding stopped. We had a nice meal.
So now it’s the next morning. My leg hasn’t improved. It’s actually worse.
I have a new plan.
Today I’ll call the primary care office. The one I hung up on.