Hospice Documents

Gentiva

On the page about my sister, you can see the video and what happened the only time my father took me to CVS for bandages. It was horrible. All the while he was demeaning me and separating himself from me at CVS as I dripped blood everywhere. It was embarrassing. No one should be embarrassed to die or survive. Ever. That day is burned into my memory and I will honestly say I will take my hatred for my father about that and utilize it in some other ways to more deserving people for my revenge instead of him. He's just a glad-hand. It will be creative, for sure

Because of my sister constantly stealing, any money I managed to save I put on a Netspend card - and just doing that, was a major ordeal. I still had a Link card and through some mismanagement of her abuse of me, she lost track once or twice what I was doing. After misleading the abusers, I managed to get an order for a Wal-Mart delivery of groceries, a hot-pot (which likely help saved my life) and a pair of pants. Most of the food went upstairs, but I had some food, finally, downstairs. Ramen noodles and some snacks to keep my weight steady.

These groceries were delivered unexpectedly and I slowly got out of the hospice bed, crawled up the stairs and then the doorbell rang. My sister just managed get get there after I opened the door a couple inches so the delivery person could see me. That way she couldn't tell them I wasn't there or stash the food in the spare bedroom.

I managed to find a box that had holes on either side or a laundry basket (I can't honestly remember) to put a broomstick handle through the holes and with one end on the handrail and me holding the other end, I walked the box of food down the stairs, one step at a time. Most of the groceries were for upstairs so they wouldn't be so pissed. I put them away and even cleaned up my own blood left on the kitchen floor before I went back downstairs. This was during a winter storm too, not long before I managed to get an Ambulance and go to Decatur Memorial Hospital and then to Barnes Jewish Hospital. Dates aren't exact, but it was somewhat the same time period.

I got candy for my dad which Malia promptly stole from him. I went to the front room and showed my dad a pair of pants and said "Look! I have a pair of pants now." My dad scoffed at me and was pissed because he kept telling me she wasn't taking my clothes, just relying on her words. I looked at my sister and said "See?" And with the most scowled face that that mullet could muster, she said "Waaa, waaa! Look at me! I have pants!"

Gentiva.

Four people were there every week and not one thought something was wrong. It wasn't abuse - I was just dying - Meh

I suspected something was going on especially with all the violence. Like I mentioned before, I could tell immediately my sister did not want to be at 1175 N Wilder Ave. Someone made her, or, she had to under some other secret issue.

If she wasn't made to, my guess is that because she's a hoarder and abuses children, I would guess it has something to do with Frank Irvin, because he only came over one time that I was aware of... and also so the last time I was at 1175 N Wilder Ave. And that goon was perky, happy - like he finally accomplished something, the last I saw him. I explained that in a different section. I don't generally put links to other references in the body of the text because it would have you bouncing around without guidance and it would just be entangled. I guide you through this mess for a reason.

With her violence, destruction, and after hiding out in my father's bedroom for the first month, it came to a point where I thought about hospice. She came to me and told me my Oncologist recommended Gentiva. There was a bed, oxygen tank and other items almost immediately brought over, which I thought was strange. My nephew and my sister was there when the main hospice person with all the documents arrive.

During delivery of things like walking chairs (yeah, two - I was allowed one after actually hearing the delivery but was unaware of the other one, which was stowed away in the spare bedroom along with the oxygen tank. My sister brought me bandages once only after Hospice gave me a card for medical supplies. I never saw that card again and I never got supplies again.

I believe this was around the time I started getting SSI Disability. About $520 a month at the time. I never thought about getting disability because it just isn't in my brain to think of that. For the life of me, I did not think to do that and no one mentioned it. With all these people scamming the government most of their life and not one fucking person told me about it as I was dying. It was an honest-to-god game-changer. I started buying actual bandages without the need for begging, hoping or pleading for maybe a chance to get to a drug store.