Rather Paint Than Work

Slowly, carefully re-emerging

I've been on a strict news diet since November, self-imposed after losing my ability to sleep or concentrate on anything other than THE CATASTROPHE. I couldn't paint, couldn't see friends because I knew what they'd be talking about, couldn't write, and definitely, positively couldn't sleep. I know I am not alone.

But the trauma is beginning to fade and I'm reaching out a bit, painting very small things, and yes, sleeping. At a national level, things are going downhill fast, and the future does not look bright, not one bit, but somehow the shock is fading and life is going on.  Horrifyingly, this reminds me of how I felt after being mugged many years ago, my face swollen, my teeth loose, staring wide eyed into the dark each night until the trauma faded from my body and then my mind. And so it goes.

I don't have much to say about this, just this observation that trauma fades over time, and we recover, and we move on. I am trusting that our body politic will react as our body physical. We suffer the trauma, we are shocked, pained, horrified, damaged. And then we start to heal and repair. It takes a long time, years for sure, but we go on. We cast out our demons, even when we are temporarily overrun by them, and we wrest control of ourselves and find our way back to sanity and peace and health. Please let this be true. 

Slow down dammit

Once again more than a year has flown by since my last post. Crazy, just crazy. I'm feeling whiplashed today by the events in France and Turkey and so I thought I'd post something utterly unpolitical, unscary, and useless. You're welcome.

Here is a photo of Tuukka, a neighborhood dog, who has turned a lovely shade of lime green from rolling in freshly mown grass

And here is the ever adorable This Nugget, with her DNA profile. She earned it. 

 And finally, here is the random flower corner of the back porch, always guaranteeing a dizzy, uncoordinated array of blossoms, just to keep you on your toes. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

That's it for today... I hope you are enjoying the warmth of the sun, and avoiding all news media. It's bad for you. 

United Healthcare Update - I heart social media

I am in love with social media.  Within an hour of tweeting my sorrows, United Healthcare was following me on Twitter, @myUHC. After I tweeted a link to this blog I got a DM and then call from UHC's social media team, the smartest, most aware and skilled customer service person I've ever spoken with (except of course for my own CS team at CCC). Thank you Stephanie!!!

Stephanie helped me figure who was responsible for changing the status of my hospital stay from inpatient to outpatient (Mass General Hospital) and she helped me better understand the true financial impact of that change (about $1,700 instead of $320). 

It is still ridiculous and unacceptable that the cost of feeling better and going home is greater than the cost of feeling horrible and occupying an expensive hospital room, using monitors, consuming meds, using nursing services, eating hospital food, etc., but hey, less is better than more, contrary to that TV commercial with those precocious children and that silly man.

So... next step... tomorrow I take on Mass General. That should be fun... I'll keep ya posted. I think I'll start with a  little social media. 

AARP's United Healthcare Medicare - broken healthcare!

A bit of a personal story today. So frustrated and angry. Headline: stay away from United Healthcare, AARP's Medicare Advantix plan. If you have no idea what that means, you are a tender young thing and I am envious. If not, read on.........

The background. A bit personal... sorry.... several months ago I had surgery at a major Boston hospital, under general anesthesia, with the understanding that my hospital stay would probably be one night, possibly two. My surgery was very early in the morning and by evening I was feeling very good and really wanted a good night's sleep. Well, as we all know, hospitals are noisy and busy so I asked if I could possibly go home that same evening. I was examined and discharged. Got a good night's sleep and on to recuperation. All good, right? Not exactly.

When I got the bills for my part of the medical costs, instead of being a few hundred dollars as I expected, they were about $4,000, representing 20% of the tens of thousands of dollars charged for the operating room, hospital, surgeon, anesthesiologist, etc. I learned that because I didn't actually wait until sunrise to leave the hospital, the insurance company deemed my entire surgery an "outpatient procedure", charging me 20% of all bills. Because I chose to minimize my stay and the cost of my medical care, they are characterizing this entire, serious surgery as an outpatient procedure. Crazy broken.

I appealed of course, asking them to treat the surgery as inpatient, since I originally was planning on staying the night. They denied the appeal in a circular argument that was based on the logic that they made the decision they made because they made that decision.

Bottom line, people, stay away from AARP Medicare United Healthcare. They are integral to what is broken about our healthcare system. Their policies encourage people to rack up medical bills unnecessarily and take up space in hospitals when going home is a viable - indeed preferrable - choice. They blindly stick to policy regardless of how absurd the outcome is. United Healthcare doesn't care about people, circumstances, reality, or YOU.

Abstract Painting. Just Shoot Me.

I signed up for an abstract painting course and dropped out after 3 weeks. Good teacher, interesting and friendly students. Crazy me.

I found it completely unnerving. No form, no content, no visual models, students painting out of their heads. Yikes! I couldn't sleep the night before the class each week and was genearlly driving myself bonkers. Lesson learned: I am NOT an abstract painter. So I got me outta there. Whew.

 

Provincetown 1

 

But all is not lost.  I learned quite a bit in my miserable 3 weeks. Learned new ways to observe and paint. So I'm branching out on my own, applying an expanded eye to what I see in the world. Here is my first independent effort - inspired by a beautiful photo of a pier in beautiful Provincetown. The sky was not yellow, the sand not pink, really nothing was as I have painted here, but this is the image that photo inspired. Here is my "abstract art". Thouroughly enjoyed imagining and painting it, and it was followed by a good night's sleep. Sigh.....

 

Grace Chapel Tranquility Exhibit

I am delighted to report that my painting, "Painting Flowers", was accepted into the Grace Chapel Gallery Exhibit opening this evening, called "Tranquility". I'm totally thrilled. Here is the painting:

Where have I been? Where has the time gone?

A year has passed, and then some. Nothing changes and everything changes.  

We lost our beloved Puma 15 happy months after her life-saving surgery and our hearts were broken. Most especially Nugget's, who had known no life without her  constant companion and bunk mate, Puma. 

Sweet little Sarah is 3 and a half now, and full of opinions, songs, funniness, and imagination. She is a frequent attendee at Mickey's wedding, which she plans, executes, and markets with great style and flair.  She is a ballerina most eager to show you her twirling prowess, which is considerable. And she is lovable, happy, and a constant joy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Lovely L continues to do amazing work in her two remarkable volunteer jobs, while kicking nursing school's butt, and the Amazing A is an award winning social entrepreneur in NY, trying to launch her cupcake / social innovation business, Sweet Generation, www.sweetgeneration.org. 

As for me, my painting skills have begun to improve... I've actually sold a few paintings and seem to have a reasonably good record of being accepted into local exhibitions. My painting website is www.gwenchasan.com. Go see!

So that's my catch up blog entry... I'm going to do better, starting right now. I thnk I will shift my blog focus from my post at the gates of the sandwich generation, to a more relaxed view of the world as I try to find my own "voice" in painting.  Not easy. I just signed up for a terrifying course with a teacher who I hear will shake up my painting world. Oh dear.... did I really do that? 

 

Puma Update

After three wretched post-op days of pain and moaning, Puma's recovery has clicked into high gear.  She is constantly hungry, up and about, taking 5-10 minute walks, and generally in good spirits between long naps. She is somewhat guarded in her interactions - I'm sure her staple-studded chest is still quite uncomfortable - so she has little patience for being surprised or approached by other dogs on her walks, but that's about it.

Puma has surprising patience for Nugget, her tiny pack-mate, whose idea of "hello" is a full on charge and body-slam. But the Nugg can do no wrong in Puma's eyes unless, of course, she manages to get between Puma and any morsel of food that Puma thinks she has some chance - real or imagined - of acquiring. In that case it's every dog for herself and Puma's low, threatening growl sets the Nugg running in the opposite direction, eyes bulging, tail tucked. Those two have a clear understanding of boundaries. People could learn a lot from them. I'm just saying...

Staples and stitches out in the next 2-4 days and that should be a great relief. For everyone.

Puma the Wonder Dog's Heart

Puma the Wonder Dog is in surgery. Right now. This minute.  The surgeon is (arthroscopically) cutting a big hole into her pericardium to provide egress for the fluids being released by the tumor that is very slowing surrounding her loyal loving heart. 

As I write this it is a little hard to see the screen through my tears and I realize that I don't feel substantially different than when Lauren broke her leg at the age of 5 or when Amy had her tonsils out at the age of 11.  Don't get me wrong - I don't think of Puma as my child and I know she is a dog. I've had dogs all my life.  They, like Puma, had happy dog lives but unlike Puma, when their time came they either passed away quietly at home or we made the hard decision to put them down when they were in too much pain to bear. 

But that was years ago, when the vet would do his or her best, and then gently tell you when it was time to say goodbye.

Now there are choices. Heart surgeons, full body xrays, CAT scans, MRIs, athroscopic surgery, state of the art procedures, 24 hour lab techs who actually answer the phone at 3AM and give you a comlete report on how your pet is doing at that moment. And then you can call back at 4 and 4:30 and 4:45AM for updates. You can have unlimited video conferences with your pet to see how she is doing while still confined.  In truth, the surgery is minimally invasive and Puma is not uncomfortable after the draining procedure at the end of last week.  But without today's surgery she has only a month or so before her dear heart will be overcome.  

Of course, in step with the advancement of veterinary procedures, the verterinary hospitals have taken detailed lessons from human hospitals on billing practices.  Bills detail every item and procedure.  They lists sutures, skin staples, lavage fluid, chest tube, ligature, drapes, and pages more. And almost none of them costs less than $50.  So the bills mount up at the wind speed of hurricane Irene, reaching well into four figures before you can say STOP!  

Well, that's not exactly true.  You can opt out at any point.  And I would have, given my experience of  how gracious and calmly accepting dogs are.  But Puma belongs to my adult daughters, and as citizens of the technoogical age they cannot bear to do less than everything to heal her even if it means extending her 13 years by only a year or so.  So they will hold bake sales and raise funds online to pay the bills, or most of them.  I understand that, I really do.

So as I sit here on the edge of my chair, nervously hoping with all my heart that Puma's heart makes it through surgery today,  unable to lift the weight from my heart, knowing that we will be here in a year or two at the most, when Puma's dear sweet life must, by the ticking of the clock, come to its natural end. 

 

Hurricane Irene

Hurricane Irene blew in over the weekend, presenting herself as a mere tropical storm after an exhausting tour of the southeast US.  She was tired but she still packed a whallop as she spun through Arlington.  In preparation we shopped, filled cars with gas, stockpiled candles and canned soup, and cleared the deck and yard of anything without roots. 

You can tell a lot about your neighbors based on their storm preparation.  Some get out there and take in all the potential missiles, get rid of dead tree branches, and batten down the hatches. Others leave their kids' toys scattered about, potted plants balanced on porch rails, umbrellas over glass tables, bird feeders swinging from tree branches.  My house and the young family next door represent the extremes.  All I can say is I admire those people and I wish I was one of them. 

Saturday evening was ripe with anticipation... phone calls, email, facebook well wishes, making a list checking it twice.  I'm sure I wasn't alone in barely sleeping. Sunday brought waves of rain and wind that were truly impressive. As I sat at the dining room table on my laptop with one eye on the gigantic house-squashing pine tree outside, willing it to stand, the big porch doors were suddenly, and very loudly, blown in by a fist of wind, rain, leaves, twigs, and did I mention wind?  Truly shocking and scary. Amazingly the doors were not broken and I was able to close them and clean up the mess. It was only after I finished that I noticed that I was still hearing the wind and feeling the breeze. Hmmm... 

Looking to the right at the four casement windows my keen eye picked up that the last of them was, well, it was  gone. No window, just a hole in the house, curtains flapping, rain pouring in. It actually turned out that the window was not blown off. It was not even broken. It had been blown open so hard that its hinges were torn loose and the crank mechanism snapped off. The window itself was flat against the outside of the house, loosely hanging from the two broken hinges. I was able to swing it back in place and used duct tape and an electric cord to hold it in place.  SO MacGyver, right?

Today is an absolutely beautiful day, cool, dry, blue sky, no hint of Irene who had hopped a flight to Vermont to wreak havoc in their rivers.  A great morning for gathering fallen branches and making an impressive pile at the curb for the fabulous Arlington Public Works department to pick up as they make their storm cleanup rounds today. 

Unfortunately, not everyone in Arlington was as lucky. Here is a household on Highland St that forgot to stare at the tree and will it to stand through the storm:

 
Now that's gonna leave a mark. 

Here's wishing everyone an easy cleanup and no more earthquakes, hurricanes, floods, droughts, or meteors for a good long time.

Be careful out there...