“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(Our scheduled meeting with Kim Evans, director of social services at the Chemung County Infirmary, and Connie Lido, head nurse there, took place at about 1:40 This afternoon. Jane was eating lunch when they came in to 330. The meeting went about as planned. I suppose both sides scored points, or exchanged information, but I told them we weren’t signing any admission papers. Jane told them she didn’t want to go there. We received an unwelcome surprise when Kim told us that on November 18 Fred Kardon had signed a paper stating that Jane no longer required acute care. We hadn’t been told this.

(I went over to the Infirmary’s office with them after the meeting to get a bunch of papers Kim wanted to give me, because doing it this way would save me an extra trip sometime later. While there I expressed quite plainly my opinion that Jane and I were being manipulated, that I was getting mad at everybody. I wanted her to get that message, and told her Pete H. would be calling. She gave me a lot of figures I only partially understood. She also asked me about Jane’s assets. When I gave a rough estimate, she said that ruled out applying for something called Hill-Burton funds for payment toward the insurance bill, I believe. In other words, one has to be indigent before any help is offered, it seems.

(In short, I told Kim Evans, the system stinks, and I’m mad about the whole thing. So be it. As I told Jane when I got back to 330 around 3:00, all even the Infirmary wants is the money—that’s why they’re suddenly interested in her, because her name is moved up the list, and they know that somehow they’ll make a profit on the deal, either through self-pay, insurance, or whatnot. In the meantime, when she wasn’t available, they didn’t give a hoot.

[...] “Not bad, huh?” I told Pete about the prospective evaluation by the people from the infirmary a block away, and mentioned to him that Jane didn’t want to be moved. [...] Then later in the morning I had to call him back to tell him about Ms. Murdock in social services, and the 16-hours-a-day private nursing proposal in connection with the infirmary. [...]

(However, a little thought shows that Fred’s departure may actually work to our advantage—slowing down any precipitous decision on the part of the Chemung County Infirmary to want to possibly move Jane over there; if he isn’t present to give advise, officials may not be able to reach a decision, except to leave her alone—which is what we want. [...]

[...] I’m in enough adversarial positions now, what with insurance companies, doctors, infirmaries, and so forth. [...]

[...] She said that next Tuesday at 1:00 PM one of the heads of placement at the Chemung County Infirmary a block away would be at 330 to interview Jane, with an assistant, and could I please be there too? [...] It seems that as a result of the call she’d received from Pete this morning, Mary Krebs had contacted the Infirmary. [...] Catherine said names could be moved up and down the Infirmary’s list—evidently Jane’s had been shifted several times when it was determined she was too ill to be moved. [...]

[...] I also knew there were few private rooms in the Infirmary, and that if we lost our privacy it would interfere greatly with our work together—and that the creative work is as much a part of therapy as anything else. [...]

[...] Nevertheless, I stopped at the post office on my way to the hospital to mail all of the information about the Infirmary and Steve to Pete. [...]

You can approach the insurance situation, and the infirmary situation, in the following manner—–or at least this example may help you understand the nature of probabilites more clearly. [...]

[...] I didn’t understand all she said, but something about the Infirmary, beds, and what she’s been telling people. [...]

[...] It developed that she’s feeling more impatient, and really wants to be able to sit up — say in a lounge chair like the people from the infirmary mentioned. [...]

[...] She explained as best she could, and about the infirmary. [...]