Indiana Jones

This past Tuesday I was all set to have a day out on the town. I didn't have any dialysis scheduled for the day since it's only on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. With such a regimen one needs to have a reprieve once in awhile. Dave M. from New Jersey had contacted me about going to the movies to see the latest movie of Indiana Jones. With his enthusiasm, it is evident that he is an expert on the subject.

He had told me about it almost a year before it came out. If you liked Raiders of the Lost Ark, you're sure to appreciate this movie. Indiana Jones first appeared in the 1981 film Raiders of the Lost Ark. The film was followed by Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom in 1984, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade in 1989, The Young Indiana Jones Chronicles from 1992 to 1996, and Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull in 2008. In addition to his film and television appearances, the character has been featured in novels, comics, video games, and other media.

The movie, Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, opened on May 22. We saw it just this past Tuesday, June 24. That was over a month from the start. I asked him if it would still be playing when he came to Ohio. "Are you kidding? This movie is going to play for a long time!"

He told me he went to the opening at midnight on May 22 and the place was packed with hero worshippers. I'm not that ambitious, but I do like a good adventure and I was not disappointed.

On Tuesday Dave showed up at around 10:30 a.m. on his Harley and left it parked at our place while we drove to the Mansfield Cinemark Theater, a first-run theater. (Lucy and I always go to the dollar theater in town.) Lucy wasn't too happy that I spend a lot of money for a movie, but when we got there for the 11:00 a.m. showing, it was only $4.50. After a month of Indiana Jones feeding frenzy the fervor had died down and there were only two other people in the theater.

Since I'm walking with a crutch I sat in the handicap section, which was a bit too close; the previews were wild enough to make you want to sit farther back. I told Dave I'm going back a few rows, so we sat back not far from one of the other patrons.

Dave had told me he was going to get an Indiana Jones fedora from the same person who made them for the movie. Sure enough, he drove his trusty Harley all the way to Mississippi and back in time to attend the movie with me. And he wore the hat to the movie.

When he had told me about getting the hat, I told him that he would certainly be sleeping during the movie. He didn't think so. A few minutes into the movie the excitement grew loud and fierce. I turned to Dave to make a comment about it, in time to see him quickly raise his bowed head to attention, agreeing with me. A person can get mesmerized into oblivion from sheer monotony. And a lot of constant excitement can turn out to be monotonous. Look Dave, no one can expect to stay awake after traveling hundreds of miles, especially when this was the 7th time you saw the movie.

The movie was worth going to see. It was the old Harrison Ford character at its finest. I hadn't seen a movie like that for a long time. Well, I admit that I don't watch many new movies these days.

After the movie, we dined at Olive Garden Restaurant. That's one place Lucy and I frequent on occasion. Lucy doesn't really mind when I don't include her in some of my social escapades; she has her own Ladies' Day Out with her sister and nieces.

Dave spent a little time with us when we got back home, but he had appointments to keep and had to get back to his neck of the woods. With the day being sunny and warm, it was a good time had by all.

By the way, Dave can be seen on his own website. Click here.

After Hospitalization ... finally

This letter was written in December 1989. Sequence of these letters start with the trip to England blogged in May 2008.

I'm finally back to work after four months on State Disability Pay (New Jersey). I was in the hospital (Philadelphia, PA) five times in those four months, had surgery several times and now it looks like everything is all tuned up and shipshape.

A number of doctors wrote off what Insurance wouldn't pay. In fact, I didn't even have to ask my doctor. The billing secretary said she would write off the remainder as soon as Insurance, Blue Cross/Blue Shield and Major Medical, paid. And he isn't even a participating member of Blue Cross. I thought that was mighty thoughtful of them.

Last August I got bills from Anesthesia, from four doctors, for several surgical sessions in which they were involved. They had sent the bills to Insurance and asked only that insurance moneys be forwarded to Anesthesia Associates. Finally, Insurance started paying but they didn't pay the entire bill. I kept getting bills from Anesthesia for the remainder. I called up Insurance and said they didn't pay the entire amount, was I obligated to pay the remainder? They told me that they paid what was fair and equitable. Indeed, I would not have to be made to pay the rest. So I called up Anesthesia and asked about reducing or eliminating the remainder of the bills since Insurance paid their part. They told me to write a letter to the doctors involved, which I did. A few weeks later I was still getting periodic bills for the remainders so I called Anesthesia again. I asked what my balance was on the four bills outstanding. She looked it up on her computer. Doctor One, zero; Doctor Two, zero; Doctor Three, zero; Dr. Four...$75.00...no, she would write that off too. The total write-off amounted to almost $700. Believe me, I was elated.

It reminds me of the time when my Dad got a dentist bill he disagreed with. He either called up or wrote a letter to the dentist and told him, in no uncertain terms, that he objected to the bill and would pay only part of it. I was too young at the time to tell Dad that you just don't do it that way. Tact and diplomacy go far in such matters. Needless to say, he got another bill from the dentist demanding payment in full immediately.

In course of the several conversations I had with Insurance and the various medical billing offices, I have come to the conclusion that they intentionally inflate the bills to ensure receiving as much as Insurance will pay. I'm sure not all doctors write off the remainders—I had to ask Anesthesia for their consideration. I didn't have to ask Dr. Bagley, even though he is not a participating physician. Participating physicians are not supposed to receive any more than what Insurance pays them.

I went to the hospital again after I had settled everything with Anesthesia and now I got another bill from Anesthesia from the surgery since then—$540. Insurance already sent in their portion—Blue Shield sent $315 and Major Medical sent $99. That leaves a $126 remainder to haggle with with Anesthesia. I guess I'll just wait to see if they write it off before I put on my diplomatic hat again.

These bills are very confusing too. Fortunately, there's a date of service to orient one to when, where and how that bill was generated. I started keeping track of my medical escapades since September which was a little late to document all the doctor appointments, xrays, examinations, and in-patient medical services performed. I received an insurance check for $125 for Jefferson Associates. There are several Associates at Jefferson—Urology, Radiology, Nuclear Medicine. And some of those bills are from outside service vendors who do consulations, analyses, or evaluations. I called one number and it was an Associate office outside the city in Bala Cynwyd. She wrote off the bill—bless her!

All this free time I've had over the past months has allowed me to come to grips with my own financial situation. I could easily declare bankruptcy. I've been beholden to the credit card craze for years and now I find that I've been as bad as the federal government, living on a deficit. Now I've stopped using credit cards, and I've set up a budget to live within my means. No, it's not a sickness, as people like to make excuse for their bad spending habits. It's just a habit one gets into. Now I'm keeping track of all my pennies. I'm holding on to only a couple of vices—buying stamps and stationery to write these letters.

I had had two Thanksgiving dinners, Thursday and Saturday, which eased the budget tremendously. My sister Jane invites me to dinner occasionally. I don't eat out anymore. I've discovered rice, although I wish it was tastier. Frozen corn heats up in minutes in the microwave. Potatoes take about 8 minutes to bake in the microwave. The Acme sells cooked chickens for about $5, which is enough for a couple meals; and just the other day one chicken was marked down to $1.99, and it was still warm. My brother and I had a nice inexpensive meal that evening—chicken, rice, corn and applesauce. He and I live together. He's watching his budget too. And fortunately he likes my cooking.

So how did your vacation go? Anything exciting? I took my vacation in April, to London. I don't know what I'll do this coming year. I don't want to spend any money for awhile, so maybe I'll just stay home and read...read library books.

We had a bit of excitement the other day. But first, on November 16 we had a rip-roaring windstorm go through here. The south wind had been blowing all night and around noon a north wind came through like gangbusters, knocking down trees, power lines; and in Philadelphia a high-rise under construction was damaged by flying sheetrock panels. They flew into the air and knocked out about 40 windows in the adjacent high-rise office building. I remember because I was admitted to the hospital that day—after the storm had passed by. The high-rise was just a couple blocks from Jefferson Hospital.

Then less than a week later I was sitting here reading in the evening when the wind rose again. I didn't pay much attention to it until I heard a loud metallic clatter outside. I'm on the fifth floor of an eight-story building and I saw bricks, wood and debris all over the ground by the front entrance. I don't think any cars were hit although there were about 100 parked nearby.

Soon firetrucks, ambulances, and police cars came barreling in. Searchlights played over the whole building, and firemen went up to the roof to survey the damage. A piece of roofing was still dangling over the edge of the roof and they didn't allow anyone to leave the front entrance. The wind was still high.

Soon there was a knock on the apartment door. A fireman told us to leave our apartment and stay out in the hall or go down to the lobby. They wanted to remove the roofing on the edge and they didn't want any stray pieces to fall and shatter a window. We stayed in the hall for about a half hour.

The next day the episode was in the paper, complete with pictures. I guess the media had been out there among the fire trucks to add to the confusion. Nobody was hurt though.

Well, I have more letters to write. I didn't feel like writing lately because I was still worried about my health. But this past Monday everything turned out OK when I went to the hospital for the last time to see whether everything was functioning properly. So I'm free once again, and quite happy about it.

This letter was written on December 2, 1989. I would have never remembered the details I described if I hadn't written them down. That's the value of writing letters—a virtual diary.

Hospital yet again.

The following letter was written in October 1989 to a penfriend in Cottage Hills, Illinois. It outlines some of the exasperation in dealing with the medical business world. This sequence of letters begins in previous blog entries.

I'm still not back to work, but I feel pretty good right now. I was scheduled to go to the hospital last Monday and they cancelled. I didn't find out until I got there. I had a plastic bag with a robe, books and other things and all was for naught. I was rather miffed because State Disability (New Jersey) doesn't pay full salary and I'll have to wait another two weeks before they check out my other kidney.

Dr. Grasso, a four-year resident, was in surgery at the time, so I waited until I got home to call him. He was very apologetic but explained that Peggy, Dr. Bagley's secretary, had failed to schedule a perc tube surgery, whatever that means, and it threw everything out of whack. They won't be able to do it for another two weeks. I'd like to take the insurance money they're supposed to get, and run off with it! As it was, I already sent them a hefty sum, relaying it to them from Insurance.

They charge an arm and a leg for these surgeries: Nephroscopy $2400, Lithotripsy $2400. Blue Cross/Blue Shield paid $1410 of the $2400 bill and Major Medical paid $212. That leaves a pretty big chunk for me to work on.

To make matters a little more exasperating, I gave the Disability form to the doctor's office for them to fill out. A secretary (not Peggy) took it, telling me that both Dr. Grasso and Dr. Bagley were out of the country; they'd be back Tuesday. So the following week I called Peggy about the form. She looked high and low and couldn't find it. I had given it to Cass but still it was not found. I always thought Cass was a bit confused at her job. Great! Now I'll have to get a delayed payment sometime! I wasn't too happy.

As it happened, I had an appointment with another doctor in the same hospital so I went to Urology to find out about the disability form. Maybe I'd jog a couple memories if I'd show my face. As soon as I came in the door someone, without explanation, told me to go see Camille in the Billing Office just down the hall. After finding out who Camille was, I told her I gave a disability form to Cass at the front desk and no one knows hide nor hair of its whereabouts. I explained to Camille that I gave it on a Friday and both doctors were not available at the time—they'd be back on Tuesday. Her face brightened and she said, "I'll bet they put it on Dr. Bagley's desk," and she disappeared down the hall. She came back with the elusive paper in her hand. Bless her!
I found out SHE is the one who is supposed to fill them out, and she filled it out on the spot. I noticed my file was up on the computer and the two $2400 bills were on the screen. I told Camille that she already should have received $1410. She asked if Major Medical paid yet, and I said yes, about $200, and I had just sent it that day. She told me then that when they get it they'll make an adjustment on the bill.

I am convinced that doctors purposely inflate their bills to make sure they can get all that's due them from Insurance. I got that distinct impression when talking to Anesthesia Billing. Insurance told me that they pay the going price for doctors' services but they can't be paying the entire bill, no matter how good the insurance policy is. I brought up the subject with Anesthesia and they said I could write a letter and they'd send it to each doctor involved. There are four Anesthesia bills.

Now today I was told to go to Dr. Bagley's office. I had already had pre-admission testing done last Friday, so I didn't know what they were going to do now. A medical student went over my present condition rather thoroughly. He said my medical history read like a novel. Dr. Grasso had said the same thing when I first met him.

Afterwards there was a discussion with Peggy and Dr. Grasso whether I should have SMA-6 or 12 lab work done. Radiology wanted my blood but Pre-Admission already took some last week. I waited around for the medical student to finish writing the results of his examination so Peggy could give me a lab order.

When they finally finished, Peggy gave me an envelope and told me to go down to Pre-Admission Testing. I didn't know what the heck was going on but I went. I told Pre- that I had had testing done the week before. Then it was their turn to wonder what was going on. Finally, I was called to the desk and told that I could go now—everything was in order. Wait a minute, I said. I was under the impression I was supposed to have blood drawn. I called Peggy. Peggy told me to have them call 6440. Bewildered, they did. They found out Radiology wanted me to come there to the fifth floor. I then went to Radiology and they took three vials of blood. I asked if they had vampires somewhere they needed to feed.

That finished, I headed for the door. They stopped me with instructions. "You are scheduled for surgery the same day you are admitted, October 23. We want you here in Radiology at 8:00 sharp—no matter what the hospital tells you. Even if Central Scheduling doesn't call, be here. We'll have a bed available by the time you need it. If they do tell you to come in at any certain time, ignore it. Be here at 8:00." She was rather adamant about it. I believe Dr. Grasso had rolled a few heads at the mistake of the previous week and she was just repeating his demands to clarify intent.

After I left I went back to Urology. I spoke to Peggy, "Is there anything else while I'm here?" She just smiled and shook her head, "No, that's all." She seemed to be on the edge of weariness. That department is awful busy and even Dr. Grasso had been making wise-crack remarks, a sign that he was tired.

I'm sorry to hear about your sister. Achalasia is nothing to trifle with. Our former music director had it and he had to go through grueling procedures to keep his esophagus open. Apparently it wasn't at the dysphagia stage yet. He found a doctor at Zurbrugg Hospital in Burlington County (NJ) who was familiar with the disease. I read an article a few years ago which pointed out that one of the causes may be nervous tension, and he certainly was the type of person to have nervous tension.

In deference to your sister's condition, there are so many causes for diseases. However, I am convinced that many illness are induced by a person's frame of mind. The mind is a powerful and mysterious part of a person's makeup, and so may incidences can create a change in a person just by thought, attitude, or demeanor. My cousin lost her daughter in a boating accident and she got cancer from the stress. The same thing happened to another acquaintence of mine.

Do you ever wonder how faith healers can be apparently successful? Psychosomatic illnesses induced by the mind and are so common that the trust a person has in what that faith healer says can bring about a change in that person on a wide scale. A feeling of hope and trust works wonders. However, I don't take stock in everything faith healers claim. Stretching the facts is easy when you have a following that would believe in every word you say.

Jim Bakker is a case in point. His defense attorney gathered as many character witnesses as he could to ascertain the justification of Bakker's actions. According to them, he could walk on water. It was evident that these people saw nothing wrong in spite of what the media had spelled out. And Bakker did have the power to persuade. He is gifted that way. Even on the witness stand he confidently pointed out his heavenly calling to the jury. They being of the Christian faith, came to the conclusion that indeed Bakker may have been called by God to this minstry, but the ready availability of all that wealth that was accumulated clouded his direction.

In a way, there is some redeeming side to the whole affair. People felt good watching the show. They loved Jim and Tammy. No doubt about it, there was a certain aura of good feeling that gave people hope in their perhaps-dismal circumstances, and therefore they trusted them. Swaggart, Falwell, Roberts, Robertson, and a host of others have a large following because they know how to manipulate, whether for good or bad. People trust them. But some betrayed that trust: Bakker fell, Swaggart fell, Roberts became a little outlandish in his claims, Robertson made a fool of himself, and skeletons in the closet popped up all over the place. Religion is too sensitive an issue to be used as a forum for power and wealth.

Just recently [in 1989] there was an article in the Philadelphia Inquirer about a Soviet TV personality who has an apparent power to heal—Anatoly Kashpirovsky. He is idolized by millions and he performs miracles for people via television. I have a tendency to believe much of that. Like I said, the power of the mind can alter a person's outlook, and even health. It is a God-given ability of man to heal himself under countless circumstances.

However, there are also cases where people get better from illnesses that cannot be cured. FOr some reason the malady disappears. Chalk it up to prayer, faith, believing, or direct intervention from God, such happenings puzzle doctors, families and friends alike.

As a kid I had surgery several times by the time I was four years old. I developed a deadly fear of ether. In fact, one time I was put to sleep and my throat constricted that I couldn't breathe. The doctors had to give me a tracheotomy to save my life. After that, I went into sheer panic every time I smelled ether or alcohol, all the way to the age of 21. For some reason, the phobia left me and now I am not bother by it anymore. The only reason I can think of is that I finally came to a greater realization and purpose in my life and such things didn't have a hold on me anymore. Now if I can get rid of some other phobias...

I used to take pictures of fall foliage. Some pictures turn out pretty nice and one day someone asked me to come up to northern Maine and to bring my camera. He even paid the airfare from Philadelphia to Presque Isle, Maine via Boston. I then went all over Aroostook County, taking pictures of trees and potato farms. I saw only a few pictures but I don't know what he did with them. I never kept any of them.

Another year I drove 1300 miles in four day, all over New England, looking for the fall foliage. It was late in coming that year. Massachusetts was as green as summer and Connecticut was a bit disappointing, except for the pumpkin patches. I visited Mark Twain's house in Hartford, Connecticut before I went farther north. The autumn line ws around Franconia Notch, New Hampshire. I was traveling through there during the week hours of the morning before the sun came up so I just kept going—all the way into Canada. By that time I was too high in latitude for fall foliage so I went to visit a friend of mine in Lacolle, Quebec, and he wasn't even home, so I came back. I found the best foliage shots in the Pocono Mountains in Pennsylvania, practically in my back yard!

I hope to be back to work by November [1989]. This "vacation" isn't helping me any. I should go down to the beach, to the casinos, or to Pennsylvania Dutch country, but I'm low in funds right now. I just took stock of my financial situation. If my outgo keeps exceeding my income, the upkeep could be my downfall. Fortunately, I'm living with my kid brother [David] right now. He has a better job than I do. He pitches in his share and then some at times. His computer helps marvelously in figuring out where I stand.

Hospital again

This is another letter that was written on August 18, 1989 to someone in Cottage Hills, IL.

Well, it finally happened. I landed in the hospital. I didn't feel so bad at the time but Dr. Bagley had a look of concern on his face when kidney x-rays showed one of my kidneys was blocked. I spent almost two weeks in the hospital being poked, prodded, sticked, x-rayed, ultrasounded, EKG'd, stabbed, sliced and lithotripsied. I had five or six kidney stones. I had a follow-up x-ray a week ago and the doctor was relieved to see that there was quite an improvement, but one more stone left. Then I went yesterday for another round of lithotripsy to pulverize it. I stayed there overnight. Now I'm on the mend and taking it easy like I've been doing for the past month.

Jefferson Hospital in Philadelphia is said to be the largest privately-owned teaching hospital in the country. Believe me, I saw enough students making rounds with their professors. The doctors and nurses do a pretty good job with all kinds of emergencies and ailments. It was interesting enough to me to almost wish I had studied medicine. As it is, I've learned thing while there, and the medical personnel were helpful when I asked questions. The human body in an intriguing machine. I have to go back for another x-ray on September 5 to see if this round was effective.

But then, I guess you don't really care to hear all the graphic details, do you? Actually, I didn't mind the hospital so much. But it was b-o-r-i-n-g. Each bed has a small TV and I rented it for nearly $4 a day and now I almost hate television. This last time I didn't even bother renting it, I just read a book, Speaking Out, by Larry Speakes, press secretary to the Reagan Administration, a very interesting book, if you like politics. He explains the Administration's side of so many issues, incidences and crises that came up in the Reagan Administration. He even worked in the Nixon Administration and went to bat for Nixon in the Watergate scandal until he realized that Nixon was guilty but covered it up. Speakes thought it would have been better for everyone if Nixon would have owned up to it and apologized. It would have kept him in the Presidency.

Reading is certainly better for a person than watching TV. I remember when I first became aware of reading. I was about five years old when I wished with all my heart that I could read. I'd pore over Look magazine and try to decipher those letters and groups of letters. But my parents were not the type to teach a kid more than potty training and good manners. Yes, Mom would read to us kids at bedtime, but it was more the droning voice that put one to sleep than the story. I was just itching to go to school to learn.

Because I was a sickly kid I was held back a year to wait for my brother Ron to be eligible for first grade. We marched in to education together and quickly learned our ABCs, and we shortly got our first softbound reading book and learned to read our first words: "Oh look! See Sally run!"

When we finally got hardbound books we proudly marched up to the stage to read aloud in turn, for the teacher. And by the end of the school year we could look a second grader in the eye as almost equals. But like in all groups of children, there have to be some who dominate and bully themselves through school. I was picked on at times so I quickly learned whom to avoid and who was work making friends with.

But kids are survivors. I survived. I lived to read more and more. My favorite pastime over the years was to peruse the shelves at the school library and read, read, read. No, I didn't read the entire book very often, but I checked out an awful lot of books while I was in Junior High. When a book was well written, I read it through. I picked on adventure books. Tarzan of the Apes by Edgar Rice Burroughs, Bomba, the Jungle Boy, stories of the famous cowboys, Roy Rogers, Gene Autry, the Lone Ranger. Tales of cowboys and Indians, undersea exploration, submarines, ships, airplanes—the list was endless and my imagination thrived on these tales. In the first few years of my life I never even saw a television set.

Radio did its part as an alternative to reading. It abounded in imaginative stories: Amos & Andy, The Shadow, the Lone Ranger, Gildersleeves, and a host of others. The sound effects and well spoken scripts took our imaginations into lofty heights.

Then along came television. I was enthralled. Now I could see Tarzan, Roy Rogers, Gene Autry, Hopalong Cassidy, and the Lone Ranger in action, in living black-and-white. And there were countless other stories to titillate the mind, if not the imagination: Lassie, Cochise, Broken Arrow, Tales of Wells Fargo, Gunsmoke, Zorro, Amos & Andy, Kraft Theater, Sally Starr, cartoons and movies of all kinds. We didn't have a TV so we kids would sneak over to the neighbors for a steady diet of adventure, mystery, and intrigue—after the farm chores.

Now, in listening to some of the radio classics, I am amazed how well written the scripts were, designed to capture the imagination; writing which was quite eloquent compared to today's. Now that television has dominated people's lives, it appears that situations are more captivating than verbal content. Indeed, television is replete with badly constructed language.

So I still enjoy a well-written book. I still dapple in books, not always reading one through. Larry Speakes' book is one that I'll probably read through, it is that well written, although I did catch a lot of typographical errors.

Another book I read through was the biography of Gloria Swanson, which was extremely well written. Gloria Swanson? Yes, the movie actress back in the 20s and 30s. She was the major star of that time and she was Joseph Kennedy's mistress for awhile, Ted Kennedy's father, the rum-runner of the Prohibition period. Her story takes you from the silent era of movies to the talkies. A fascinating book.

As dry a book as it may seem, I read Rachel Carson's Silent Spring through when I was about 18 years old. It was not an adventure story, but it captured my interest in the way it was written.

I haven't read many of the classics of literature. I don't seem to have the patience to read like I'd like to. You may develop an appreciation for books after watching a movie like Fahrenheit 451, a futuristic story in which books were banned.

Talking about education, here's a joke I just read: The personnel department of a large supermarket chain hired a young man to work in one of its stores. He reported to work and the manager greeted him warmly and handed him a broom.

"Your first job is to sweep out this store," he told the young man.

"But I'm a college graduate," the man replied.

"Sorry, I didn't know that," said the manager. "Here, give me that broom and I'll demonstrate."

Well, I guess I've rambled on enough for now. I hope to go back to work soon. I miss it. The doctor said to not expect to go back to work until the middle of September.

Reminder, this letter was written in 1989.