What bothers me a bit is the rumor that she was able to rent out an entire floor of the hospital for 1.3 million dollars.  I don’t know how many rooms that is at Lenox Hill Hospital, but I don’t like the idea that people who may have needed one of those rooms couldn’t get one because they were basically outbid…  I understand her desire for privacy, but any people who may have actually *needed* a room on that floor probably wouldn’t give a rat’s ass about who may or may not have been down the hallway, because they may have been more concerned with getting medical care.  My other rumination on this is that if you’re THAT concerned about privacy and you’ve got that kind of money to spend, why not just have a birthing room set up at home?

Where I’m especially conflicted is that I’ve essentially done the same thing with my grandmother in the past 17 months, which makes me just as much of an asshole.  And I’d rather not be, but there you go.  Until this month, my grandmother been a single resident in a semi-private room – what the care center bills as a “suite”.  Did she need a suite?  Absofreakinloutely not.  But she landed in  one when she got there, I wasn’t smart enough to tell them to move her to a regular private room immediately, and by the time I figured it out, moving her would have been detrimental to  her mental health.  (She’s now to a point where moving her to the regular room across the hall won’t bother her.  She is now in the room across the hall.)  So, much like Beyonce, I managed to have my grandmother taking up two beds rather than one, and someone might have needed that other bed, especially since it would have been at a semi-private rate.

I’m still mad at myself that my decisions basically took up a bed in the care center that someone else may have needed.  Beyonce pretty much cleared out the entire wing.

If this isn’t a sign that there is something not quite right with health care, I’m not sure what is.  I have no problem with being able to get what you need.  But my grandmother never needed a suite, but because she could pay for it, screw anyone else that may have needed that other bed.  And Beyonce didn’t need the whole floor, but because she could pay for it, screw anyone that may have needed one of those rooms.

Can’t say I’m sitting here thinking, “Gosh, 2011 was so great, I wish it could have been longer!”  (Been a LONG time since that thought was in my head at the turn of a year…)  Perfectly content to have this one in the rear-view mirror.

But, 2011 wasn’t all bad.  Got on the road to being a full fledged history nerd.  Only 1 trip to Phoenix that was “OMG, oh shit gotta find a flight NOW!!”  Not once did my phone ring at 3AM with my grandmother on the other end asking, “Are you sure you did my taxes right?”  I’m sure there were other things, but I can’t think of them right now.

The downsides were many trips to PHX, which while they are getting easier, still wear me out.  My grandmother is in a pretty bad way at this point – general consensus of the nurses is 1-2 months.  Given my grandmother’s adherence to such timelines so far, I’m still planning on being back in April & August.

Though the chances are high that I’ll be making my final trip to PHX this year, there are good things ahead.  Registered for two more classes this semester.  Hitting the beach again!  Lots of resolutions made that will likely be broken in a week.

So, here’s to 2012 going well.

As it is, studies have shown that prices aren’t necessarily the best on Black Friday anyway.

Part of the problem is that we’re a very consumer driven society.  If a store is open at any hour with good deals, then someone will show up.  This gives retailers the only reason they need to open.  Problem is, it also gives retailers the only reason they need to tell their employees that they have to cut their Thanksgiving day short so they can be at the store for the late night opening.

I’d love to see one of two things happen:  1. Consumers say, “No, we’re not going to go shop on Thanksgiving because it’s Thanksgiving.  We can wait until normal opening hours on Friday just like we used to do, and the world certainly didn’t come to an end back then.”  or 2.  Retailers say, “We’re not opening until our regular opening time on Friday because Thanksgiving is a DAY of thanks and doesn’t end just because dinner is over and then everyone can go to work.  That, and it’s not right to expose our employees to lunatics with pepper spray.  We’ll see you on Friday.”

Though I suspect we’re long past the point of no return.

ETA:  I’m not anti-Black Friday.  It makes sense that it’s a big shopping day since so many people have the day off.  I’m anti-midnight-psychosis.

Push for a slightly more comprehensive version of “not doing well” and the symptoms line up perfectly with her aneurysm finally rupturing/leaking, which is something that we certainly saw coming.  Doctor is talking 24 hours.  Hospice nurse called in.  Discover upon having the paperwork faxed to me that of course, the care center doesn’t use the hospice services that are in the building they share. (Of course not, that would make sense.)  Regardless, she will not be going to the hospital – her wishes have been made exceptionally clear over the years.

Booked a flight for tomorrow.  Sharyn is a bona fide wreck – she doesn’t want to admit at all that this could be the aneurysm, and keeps insisting that it’s not that bad.  (While not even remotely arguing with my coming out west less than a week after I left, so it ain’t good.)

So, I’m flashing back to this time last year where I was headed out to PHX on 24 hours notice with two versions of what is going on, with reality likely falling somewhere smack in the middle of things.

So, tomorrow I head out and probably move her to the hospice center just down the hallway and wait.  Now, knowing my grandmother, I’ll probably walk in and she’ll be sitting up in bed asking, “Why the hell is everyone hovering over me?”

I truly cannot remember a year when I have been packing up from the oceanside sojourn feeling more recharged and ready to take on whatever nonsense Karma, the Fates, the Universe, et al decide to chuck at me.  Granted, saying this out loud probably sets me up for a shitstorm of magnitudes I could not have imagined in my wildest dreams, but I’m feeling pretty chilled out regardless.  Truly chilled out is a state of existence that I can honestly say I haven’t felt in a good, long time, and I am certainly enjoying the hell out of it.

I’ve got some seriously busy times ahead of me, but for the first time in a while, I feel like I’m ever so slightly ready for it.  Damned nice feeling if you ask me.

It was a bit odd to be heading south when I was already fairly well chilled out – that hasn’t happened in I don’t know how long.  There is definitely a difference between chilled out and beach mode – and if you’re already chilled out, beach mode happens instantaneously as soon as you get here.  I had gotten used to it taking a good 3 to 5 days to simply unscrew myself from the ceiling before I could even approach beach mode.

If you’re just chilled out, things will happen that will annoy you.  Once you’ve hit beach mode, you just don’t care.  Examples:

- A/C on the car died.  Hey, the fan still works, and we’ve answered the question of which car the dog is in on the way home.
- Bash up already bashed foot again, resulting in lovely swelling.  Eh, ice and elevation and hey, I’ve got tons of books to read.
- Dog isn’t satisfied with a quick trip to the side yard on a rainy morning and isn’t amenable to returning inside for an umbrella?  Hey, I’ve got dry clothes I can change into when we get back.
- A knowingly ill-timed trip to the drugstore resulting in being right in the midst of the Saturday afternoon northbound traffic jam?  Nothing else to do but crank up the tunes, sing along and get down with your bad self.  (This may result in drivers around you who have not achieved beach mode yet to look at you as though you have three heads, but I get that on a near daily basis anyway, so I’m used to it.)

Yup, beach mode is good, and the faster you can get there, the better.

‘92 to ‘04 it was “I need to get away from work.”  2005 it was a combo of “I need to get away from work and fuck all, my Mom died and you can bet your sweet ass I’m taking two weeks.”  2006 was still recovering from massive job burnout.  2007 I was stressing about my townhouse being on the market.  2008 was when Grandma went off the rails and getting away really wasn’t terribly meaningful, because my phone went with me, and hence, Grandma…

But this year…  Grandma is in the care center and doesn’t have a phone in her room, so I don’t have to be “that person” on the beach frantically fielding phone calls.  School has been out for almost 3 weeks, so no “must escape my coworkers/clients*” stress.  I’m not trying to sell a house in a rapidly crumbling market.  Yes, I have a couple things going on that have me mildly mentally preoccupied, but nothing more than that, just mildly preoccupied.

Sure, I am jonesing for fresh seafood & fruity drinks with umbrellas in them (or souvenir glasses) and I’m hoping I can again achieve last year’s feat of not repeating the same beer two days in a row, but this is decidedly odd.

I don’t think I’ve ever taken a vacation when I didn’t desperately need a vacation.

*Yeah, I think of the kids as my clients.

That hasn’t happened since, oh, January 2008.

I think it is safe to say that being a full time elementary school teacher is not really right for me.  I’ve found I have many fundamental disagreements with how things are done – most of which I can sidestep as substitute, but wouldn’t be able to avoid if I pursued this full time.  So, spending 3 years attempting to get a Masters in Elementary Ed to go into an environment where I would be constantly and utterly frustrated by the way things work seems incredibly misguided at best.  This is also why I am SO happy that I spent the time in the classroom and figured this much out – it definitely was not a waste of time.  I’ll still go back next year as I continue to try to figure out WTF I’m doing, but I’ll probably focus more on high school to get an idea of the environment with the older students and see what that’s like.

I know this much:  I do like to teach.  I like being able to show someone something they didn’t know before.  I love it when I can help someone understand something.  I love research and reading and studying.  I love learning new things.

Maybe it’s time to take the advice that the spectacular Miriam Hodge gave me a couple years back and become a professional student.  Mind you, I have no idea what I would study or if I could even get into grad school in the first place – a BS in Accounting doesn’t exactly translate well to Humanities & Social Sciences.  I guess my summer project is getting that all figured out now, isn’t it?

I’ve RSVP’d as a “Maybe” to the Post-Rapture Looting event over on Facebook.  Cause, what if they’re wrong?  Not that it won’t happen, but what if all the folks who have just tried to be decent tolerant people and who didn’t run around telling people they were going to hell because they were of the “wrong” religion were the ones that got swept up?  You know, all of us that are supposedly going to get left for the locusts.  If that’s the case, then there is going to be one hell of a party upstairs and our pets will all be there with us, thankyouverymuch.  (Seriously, WTF, no pets allowed?  I don’t think so.)

So, I would find that pretty funny.

Now, if they’re right and I’m down here madly brushing up on my Zombie Apocalypse skills, at least I can stop dealing with people knocking on my door trying to share their religion with me.  (The religion sharing doesn’t bother me so much as the knocking on my door in the first place.  But then again, I’m a bit of a hermit.)

Now if nothing happens, then, well, we’ll just have to wait for 2012.

On the other hand, if my grandmother gets swept up, then there are going to be a lot of questions on ALL sides of the arguments. ;)

ETA: On the very off chance that someone who does hold faith in the Rapture is reading this and is horrifically offended by it…  I don’t say these things to offend.  I say these things because it’s what I feel about the whole thing.  What little faith I have carries me through these things.  I hope yours can do the same for you.