“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(I also told Pete that Andy Fife had told me that Jane had been rejected by the other facilities in the area, because in their opinion she required too much personal care. This was news to Jane and me; I’d forgotten that Jean Sweeney-Dun had taken me around to those places months ago. Jane broke her leg after that. I’d thought A. Fife mistaken yesterday, but he’d repeated the same thing to Pete, and gave him file and form numbers.

(“Anyhow,” Pete told me, “I know it may not be easy, but I want you and Jane to not worry. We’ve got to fight this thing, though. Their position is ridiculous.” He said this after A. Fife had outlined the situation, that Jane didn’t require hospitalization. Pete wants Fred K. to write a letter, or something like that.

(In 330, Jane told me that she’d had to have her catheter changed around 11:00 last night—they did it four times or so before they got it right, she said. She slept okay afterward. I woke up stewing about insurance around 2:30 AM.

(“Maybe you can light a fire under Fred about the letter,” I’d told Pete. So far, then, events have fallen into line with Seth’s material yesterday—about the probable lack of a lawsuit, an early resolving of the insurance question, and with Jane’s own feelings about same, at the end of yesterday’s session. Pete hadn’t asked me for any files or records, as I’d expected him to.

(Jane ate a good lunch and began reading yesterday’s session at 3:00. She was halting, but got through it pretty well, so overall she did okay, I told her. She said that when I came in this noon she didn’t ask me how I made out this morning because she was going to wait until after her lunch, in case I had bad news. I told her I felt quite cheered by the morning’s implications, and that we d take it from there as best we could.

(Jane also has gotten rid of the patch on the outside of her right knee. The ulcer that had formed there after she’d broken her right leg at the site has now closed itself over. It has a way to go before it’s called fully healed, but she’s made remarkable progress with it, I told her. The redness will fade and fresh normal skin will grow.

(3:43. Jane did some motions with her head and shoulders left leg and hip. Noises, not violent. I rubbed several spots on her neck, forehead and the crown of her head, and she responded with strong motions of her head then. They left her breathless, she said. Grunts and groans. Left foot moved more.

(I told Jane Margaret Bumbalo called me at 12:30, as I was getting ready to leave the house, and told me there were two does in her backyard—so I had to take a few minutes to watch them. They moved leisurely across Holley Road into our own driveway, nibbling at fallen sumac leaves and the bushes. Margaret is to visit Jane in a day or two.

(I tried to do a little mail. Cathy took Jane’s temperature—98—and got her some iced ginger ale.

(4:10. Lynne took Jane’s blood pressure and pulse. Without our saying anything, she remarked on how well Jane’s ulcers were healing, and how much better she was. When people finally stopped coming in, Jane said she did want to have a session. Her Seth voice was quite good. The day was dry but overcast, and the light was already starting to wane.)

(4:45. “Remember back in the beginning of these sessions, when I wondered about what would happen when people began to notice your improvements?” I asked Jane. She nodded. “And,” I said, “it’s hardly any coincidence that you’re coming through with this kind of material you’ve started, when your own healing is on the upsurge.”

(Jane, perhaps Seth can tell us next time how we could have reacted even better yesterday to the insurance challenge.

(“I meant to tell you,” Jane said now, “that my left arm is getting softer, too. I think changes are occurring in the knuckle nodes on the backs of my hands, too....” Which reminded me that I’d applied the Remedy Rescue Cream earlier today.

(The session had run late. At 4:45, before I turned Jane on her side, Lynne came in to tell me I had a phone call at the nurse’s station. It was Catherine Murdock from social services. 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? I said sure. It seems that as a result of the call she’d received from Pete this morning, Mary Krebs had contacted the Infirmary. It seemed further that there might be a chance that a bed there was opening up. The thought was broached that Jane could be moved—nothing definite. This was the last thing I wanted to hear. 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. There was something about having a private nurse for 16 hours a day, if the staff there couldn’t take care of my wife. I said that was pointless and that we couldn’t afford it.

(“I’m not moving anywhere,” Jane announced adamantly when I tried to explain about the call. And maybe that stand was a good one, I thought, since it was definite. Seth can comment. I told Jane I thought the whole thing was one more piece of the puzzle falling into place—that above all I didn’t want her to worry, to just forget it. “I’m not going anywhere,” she stated again.

(So there things rest. We’re doing all right, Jane, and truly, there isn’t anything to worry about. All I want is for you to keep your cool and continue to heal yourself.

(I did get in a 15-minute nap. Jane ate well. After we’d read our prayer together I saw to it that she had her call button laying across her belly so she could use it. She’d pressed it once last night, she said, when she needed something done about the catheter. She uses it as a matter of routine now—quite an advancement, I said.

(Jane called me at about 9:35 tonight, as I was typing this. Cathy helped her. I’d thanked Cathy for helping Jane call me several times recently. Sleep well, Sweetheart. Tomorrow is another day.)