Notes On Health Care

Saw my mother today. She slept most of the time. However, here are a few things that struck out at me.

1. If you are a doctor, and you have never seen or met with a patient before, the first words out of your mouth do not need to be, "You do not have long to live" when you walk into a hospital room for the first time. The absurdly bad taste and Dr. Gregory House-like rapport would normally be quite funny in a dark way. However, that's on television, not in my mother's actual hospital room.
2. If you are a research/university hospital, and her lead physician says certain procedures are a waste of time. Listen to the guy, especially if the research hospital is located in New Jersey, and her lead physician works for a world-renowned cancer research organization in New York City.

Blight

Blight. That's the name of the story I'm writing right now. It's well over 10k and it will be getting into novella territory very soon, if it's not already there. I don't have a publisher for it. The above "cover" is me just fiddling around with photoshop and stock photography. However, the subject matter is something I know rather well. I really wish I didn't, but I do. It's a seldomly executed type of story I would call: Economic Horror.

Of course, there is no such sub-genre of horror. However, consider this real life story. Back at the end of the housing bubble, my wife and I moved out of a one bedroom apartment in Asbury Park, New Jersey. We bought a nice, two-level condo in Brick Township -- not a gleaming metropolis, by any stretch. At the time, I was still piecing together part time college teaching. I was even teaching two classes at Rutgers, at the time. The idea was that I was slowly paying my academic dues and angling for a full time college teaching job somewhere.

It never happened.

I was always fed a line of bullshit. The years kept grinding on, and I was going nowhere. At the time, I also had undiagnosed ADHD and sleep apnea. It killed my professional life. Also, I was becoming resoundly bitter too. People tend to become very shocked when you tell them college teaching is a job that will systematically keep you destitute, no matter how many classes you piece together. Over Christmas and the summer, i was not making any money. Hell, I even took a job at Walmart out of financial desperation.

Around this time, my wife and I started to get behind on our mortgage payments. We were made promises over the phone from our lender, but these were promises they never followed through on. At one point, the even tried to deny making those promises, and I was dumb enough not to demand that those promises be set down in writing.

We tried everything. We went through HUD's mortgage counseling, and we tried to get a Refy over "making home affordable." However, that program is a toothless waste of time. Because, if Obama and the Democratic party do not stand up to the GOP and organized banking concerns, the mortgage crisis will never end. Did I say "making home affordable is toothless?" Yes, I did. As far as I can see, nobody is holding the mortgage lenders accountable. Consumer protection efforts are always under attack from the right, and if the GOP were to get ahold of more power, they have already promised more banking deregulation. And that is a really shitty proposition.

Trust me, I know.

It's not as if the banks are all that regulated now. So, consider this. My first mortgage lender promised to refinance our loans, so that the month payment could drop. Only, they dragged their feet. Then, while promising to refy -- and constantly fucking up the paperwork -- the first lender sold our mortgage to somebody else.

This new lender -- lets call them something fake, like IBSL -- drags their feet on the refinancing. The countinue to fuck over the paperwork just like the first lender. Finally, the refy goes through. My wife and I breathe a sigh of relief. A few months go by, and then -- wait for it! -- we get a suspicious letter in the mail. The new lender has decided to jack our payments back to the original amount.

So, we got pissed! How could they do that, after all, we had a refinancing contract! Well, in the eyes of the lender, they are holding up their end of the bargain. After all, they are technically not changing the monthly payment amount. They're just escalating the escrow payments, claiming that the price of "mortgage insurance" has gone up.

So, thanks for nothing. My wife and I are back where we started. The bank has no real interest in helping us. In fact, after we did some digging, we found out that our mortgage was bought by a predatory lender -- an outfit that has no interest in actually servicing mortgages, but rather finding ways to put people into arrears, so they can foreclose and claim the property. Essentially, they have found a loophole around a "fixed rate mortgage."

My wife and I never asked for this. We tried to do the right thing. We tried to play by the rules. This second mortgage lender wasn't even the financial company we originally got our mortgage with. They came to us, uninvited and unwanted. And they want my house. Fuck them. We're fighting back.

However, the financial instability that has marked my life for the past year and half to two years is back, with a vengeance. Add to this the situation with my mother's health, and things seem bleak. Only, all this means, for the near term, is more paperwork, more complaints through governmental agencies, and finding a way to survive.

In the mean time, I'm channeling this long-running frustration into genre horror fiction (featuring severed arms, legs, and Pigs-In-Tuxedos). Even if Blight is never published, at least writing it has been -- so far -- somewhat cathartic, even with an ending that's going to be less than happy and hopeful.

CIty of Caterpillar - Maybe they'll gnaw right through

City of Catepiller is currently the soundtrack to the novella I'm writing, especially this song. What's the novella about? A crazy, insane writer in New Jersey who is fighting off home foreclosure. No, it's not autobiographical. Although, I know a little bit about both insane people and and about less-than-honest mortgage servicers.

Out Of ICU

My mom has been transferred out of ICU and is now in a regular hospital room. That by itself is a good sign. The initial prognosis held up. A new tumor developed in her brain. It was hemhorraging, which was causing her lethargy and disorientation. There was some complication to her blood thinner medication.

Meanwhile, while I have long come to terms with the idea of my mother's eventual mortality. The details of all of this are still a bit much to deal with. Today, I went to visit her with my wife. She seemed so much better than yesterday, in terms of being awake and being cognizant. Half an hour later, I realized that she had something like dementia. In that: she was not making any sense, and she kept trying to get up and go home. The hospital has rigged motion alarms to her bed, which will alert nurses to her trying to get up and walk out. Her trying to walk could lead to her injuring her self, since she has absolutely no strength in her legs, and has also been afflicted with neuropathy.

Funny, But True!

Saw this on DailyKos.

Kafka The Musical

This week's BBC Radio Play of The Week has shades of speculative fiction. David Tennant (Dr. Who's 10th incarnation) plays Franz Kafka.

The Story:

Kafka's father complains how Franz doesn't make a lot of money with his writing. He suggests his son should write a musical, and has even gone so far as to set up a meeting with Grossman, a musical theatrical producer. There are subtle and not-so-subtle references to Kafka's body of work, as well as his biography.

The Verdict:

Seems a very uneven as a comedy. Still, it's interesting. Not good, and not god awful. Just interesting. That is not necessarily a stunning endorsement.

Hitchhiker vs. Hitchhiker

No offense to Mos Def, but the most recent movie adaptation of Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy was a little bit underwhelming. There are likely many reasons for this, but I tend to think the most culturally obvious reason is the best. Hitchhiker is a thoroughly British creation, from the style of humor down to Arthur Dent's desire for a cup of tea to sooth all things sucky. Once the "Britishness" of Hitchhiker is diluted, it loses its charm. For this reason, the BBC adaptation was and still is the best visual version of the books and original radio broadcast. Think of it this way: how lame would it be if Hollywood decided to put Americans into Harry Potter? It just wouldn't be the same.