“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(Because I was impatient after breakfast this morning I called Pete Harpending’s office at 8:30. He wasn’t in. I left a message, and he called fifteen minutes later. I explained the insurance situation to him. Pete said that few such cases go to litigation—which surprised me a bit. In his own experience, he’s handled only one such case. I gave him the names and phone number of Kathy Hagen, the Blue Cross supervisor who had seemingly turned down our major medical claim, and read to him the statement as to why that Andrew Fife had given me yesterday afternoon. Then I gave Pete Mary Krebs’s phone number, in Utilization Review at the hospital; she determines the level of patient care, reviews medical records, etc. Pete said he’d call back.

(I went to work on Dreams. Pete called at 10:30. He’s already talked to Andrew Fife and Mary Krebs, and visited the head of the local Blue Cross office, on the floor beneath his own office. He tried to contact Kathy Hagen in Syracuse, but she’s out for the day. Next he’s going to call Fred Kardon. All the activity made me feel good.

(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.

(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 didn’t have time to go into it today, but Seth’s material reminded me anew that I know my own mother had managed to make me afraid of certain areas of life—that as I grew up, then left home and had to manipulate in the world, I became quite aware that I’d acquired certain fears or inhibitions. It’s a long story and I don’t intend to go into it here; I just wanted to insert this note as a reminder.

(“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.

(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.)