Tuesday, December 1, 2015

Because the Pen is Mightier Than the Sword

       It is often difficult to tell with my frequent bad luck whether a calamity is the universe screwing around with me or a deliberate action by someone or something a bit more tangible. I am not certain even now who the culprit is for the following. I will just lay out events as they occurred, and you can make up your own mind. As noted, my bad luck frolics on a long leash, but keeping in mind the actions of Wilson Senior Car/Oakhaven, you never can tell.
       I drafted my consent letter to have the feeding tube removed the afternoon after Michelle and Dale left. I will not post it as I have most other important documents and correspondence used during this whole affair because it was repetitious of what has already been written here. I can include it if someone wishes, but the letter explained I would like to continue receiving tube feedings, but the hostile environment at Wilson Senior care/Oakhaven makes my continued medical treatment under their care impossible. I also stipulated three doctors I would allow to remove the feeding tube, but no one else. I tried to cover all my bases while still being general enough to leave my options open for any legal action I might take in the future while not raising any red flags from the legal team. If these were the same lawyers who believed a reference to Humpty Dumpty was code for death threat against Brock, their interpretation skills could go either way. Maybe I should have thrown a line about magic bens in it.
       It was all typed up and ready to be emailed a solid hour and a half before management goes home. I figured if I emailed it right then, Victoria would catch it before she went home.. at worst, she would have it the first thing in the morning. But guess what? The Wi Fi went down across the entire facility. Not only could I not access the internet, but staff could not access resident files. There was no way to log in residents' treatments. Staff had to write them out by hand until the tech department who fix the network the next morning. The tech department came through the next morning for everyone—except me. I was back in the Dark Ages before the internet.
       I know as well as anyone else technology can be buggy. It was entirely possible my access to Wi Fi was not restored along with the rest. I was own a separate network for residents and visitors. But the message I kept getting from diagnostics was networks were available, but I had no access. Since I was sitting on a consent email no one wanted me to sen off, internet access dying off for seemingly only me sent up a red flag. Fortunately, I had another card to play instead of accusing the powers that be of impeding my internet access. The discharge agreement stipulated no diminishing of services was allowed. Since internet usage was named as one of the remedies in DHEC settlement, reasonable steps had to be taken to restore my internet access.
       Paulette was the first management type I could find. She was not most reliable soul on her best days and she was still passive aggressive towards me after Brock and Kendra turned her into the main focus of the investigation at the heart of the whole mess. But I fille her in to see what she could do as I looked for Marlie. She was tech savvy and more reliable than just about anyone else of the management types. I found Marlie in her office, explained things, and she offered to help. On the way back to my room, Victoria popped her head out of Brock's office.
        “I'm still waiting for that consent leter, Jamie,” she said.
       “I conveniently don't have internet access when I need to send off an email you don't actually want. Have some patience,” I said.
       Marlie was as perplexed by the diagnostic messages as I was. The network was available, but I could not access it. The password was correct. It was still correct after being typed in a half dozen times. It definitely looked as though I was being deliberately blocked, ut neither Marlie nor I verbalized the suspicion. She called Laura, the head tech geek, to ask for her help. Paulette said she was gong to call Laura, too, but since Laura acted as though she heard of the problem...yes. Score one for Paulette's consistency. Regardless, Laura would not be able to help until the next day. The next day happened to be a Friday.
       You may recall a Wilson Senior Care/Oakhaven habit of dropping bd news on a Friday right before five and hoping any fallout will dissipate before monday rolled around. I was not having any of that. I went straight to Victoria's, who was in Brock's office at the time, and told her emailing the consent letter depended solely on Laura. No movement on the feeding tube was going to happen until the consent letter was sent off, inspected, and signed by all parties. She told me Laura had her hands full, but would gt to me as soon as possible. A much needed comic relief moment occurred at that moment when brock came into her office, saw I was there, and backed out without saying a word. I have never determined whether avoiding me was a corporate dictate or her personal choice, but it amused me. I opted to delay her return to her office by chatting up Victoria.
       “You know the letter is not that bad. It calls Oakhaven a hostile environment, but broadly enough it could mean I am afraid of the unpredictable dementia residents,” I said.
       “I appreciate that,” Victoria said. She did not really appreciate it.
       With that, I let Brock go back into her office. Laura did not show up until late afternoon. Events were lining up for the bad news of a no internet all weekend. I was gaining suspicion there was going to be an absolute, no time to waste imperative to remove the feeding tube on Monday morning, but I kept it to myself. I fought off the first effort. I could do it again. I made one big blunder. Laura took the laptop to another part of Oakhaven to work on it. It was assumed—she was the female version of Jimmy Fallon's IT Guy character—that no one else could breathe her air while Laura worked. I do not know my my suspicious nature did not demand I observe, but I stayed behind. I even unlocked the laptop by typing in the password. I kick myself over letting her have access without me there.
       Victoria brought the laptop back about fiteen minutes later. She told me laura determined the problem was the Wi Fi, not my laptop, and it would eventually fix itself. With pixie dust and unicorn farts, no doubt. Victoria told me I could connect to the overall network, but practically everything is firewalled...including Gmail.
       “Like I can't gt around a firewall,” I boasted, but declined.
       Victoria never mentioned the consent letter I could not email. Like I said, she wa not eager to offer any solutions. Marlie, however, was. We went into he ofice with my laptop. I opened up the Word document of the letter and she transcribed it. I accessed my Gmail account from her computer and sent it off. I told Victoria what we had done as she was leaving for home. She could not fake enthusiasm any worse than she did.
       Like divine intervention, my internet access was restored Saturday morning. In an odd move, Jonathan came by shortly before lunch to tell me laura would hook me up the main, massively firealled network if I wanted. I told him my internet access was back, thanks. He did not seem relieved or surprised my internet access was back. It was all too peculiar. There is no way laura would randomly offer to come to work and hook me up on a Saturday. I certainly have some awful luck, but so many things say Wilson Senior Care/Oakhaven were trying to stop me from writing my own consent for removing the feeding tube.

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