“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 told the women that Jane and I were getting tired of such activities going on behind our backs, and that now I wouldn’t make a move without legal advice. This may have surprised them, I’m not sure. Above all, I said, we’re not going to do anything that will compromise our case against the insurance claim.

(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.

(Kim told me Jane is second on the list for admission to the facility now. “It could happen tomorrow or six months from now,” she said, meaning an opening. She seemed receptive when I explained our need for privacy, that it was vital therapy, and talked of moving Jane directly into a private room. But if that didn’t work out, Jane would have to wait her turn in a double room—and there was no telling how long that could take, she said. So I see no real offer of help there.

(“That’s the system,” Connie Lido said when I told her Fred hadn’t told us he’d signed that form. Over in her office, Kim Evans said that the report on Jane noted that her joints were “frozen.” and I explained to her that that wasn’t the case at all—another instance of lack of communication. She also explained something to me about indigence—how, after a certain period of time Jane and I would be considered separate people so that she could qualify Medicaid payments, I believe—and that, even if they got after me to make up those payments, I could refuse to do so. This is certainly garbled—but she made some notes on it, and I’ll be giving them to Pete, or at least telling him about them when I call him in the morning.

(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.

(There was much more said by all concerned, but I won’t attempt to give it here. I told Jane as I fed her the rest of her cold lunch that I’m going to have to start cutting down on the typing involved with these sessions, so that I can be sure I get each day’s work done before another load arrives the next day.

(Jane wondered about getting Sue Watkins to type the Rembrandt book, without any notes at all. When I asked her why, she said to get money. I said that when we needed $15,000 a month, the book meant little. I didn’t mean to denigrate the value of the book, but it can’t help us much—no book can at this date. I’m not against someone else putting that book together for publication, providing someone wants it, and things may work out that way. At one time I thought of asking Tam if he’d do it. It’s another instance of having something there that I can’t seem to resolve—very frustrating.

(When Joan, an RN, came in to see Jane today for eye drops, she at once noticed the improvements in my wife’s condition.

(Jane didn’t finish lunch until close to 4:00. She’d done no exercises, nor had I looked at mail. At 4:12 she began reading yesterday’s session—holding it upright by herself with both hands again—but she didn’t read very well. She was also having some bladder spasms, not surprisingly. Jane finally got through the session with my help. I hadn’t thought we’d manage to have a session today, the way things were going, but even though it was getting late. Jane said she wanted to try at 4:50. I said go ahead.)

(“It’s me,” Jane said.

(Both of us felt much better after the session. When I was walking out the door for home tonight, I realized that even so I’d forgotten to read the session to Jane, so I went back into 330 to do that.

(Pete surprised me by saying that he’d talked to Fred Kardon yesterday, here in town. Fred, he said, was on the defensive. Pete ended up getting mad at him—for Fred contradicted himself by saying that Jane required acute care, but that all the other facilities in town said they rejected her for that very reason. I don’t know whether I’m correct in this interpretation or not, but Pete said Fred was evidently trying to protect himself. So’s everyone else, I said. I told Pete about Fred signing that form on November 18, saying Jane didn’t require acute care.