What a day. What. A. Day.
So I went to the home yesterday after many phone calls were made. To bring everyone up to speed, the hospital gave me a few phone numbers, five to be exact. Only two of the five are still in working use. Of the two, one rings and rings and rings, and is supposedly her grandmother. The other one rings about five times and then goes to a machine, where I left a message, as did the people at the hospital and the woman, Lisa, who works at the county morgue.
Let me share with you that Lisa at the morgue is a complete doll, and I really appreciate that she was there. She was ironically so much kinder than the nurses at the home. Of course, I do understand why the women at the home were so upset. I'll get to that later.
One of the calls I got from the home was Myriam asking me to go and pick up Shay's things, so we packed up and headed up there. It was almost scary how close Shay was to me the whole time. Less than a ten minute drive, actually. Anyway, we went to the home and when I told them why I was there, everyone shunted me to the place where she was, and well, it was really surreal. I know that Convalescent Homes are not nice places, and that they're really sad, but these elderly people shuffling about, asking me if I can change their lightbulbs, (this happened twice from two different people. I don't see how they thought I was a nurse, in my jeans, flip-flops and tight-fitting Superman t-shirt.) I felt as though I had entered the Twilight Zone. Several of the elderly women in the halls were agitated. They were yelling about wanting to get their hair done, that their appointments were cancelled. I had to explain who I was and why I was there over and over, and finally the nurses found Myriam, as yet another nurse was yelling at me because Shay had been there dead, at this point, for 14 hours. They were telling me that they had bags of ice on her, which I later found out was a bad thing, because I guess part of bloating is absorbing moisture from the room. The condensation from the ice on her body just made that easier, from what Lisa explained to me.
Anyway, the nurses told me about what the last eight months were like, and it's shocking to me. She did not shower once while she was there, though she would wash herself with a cloth and plain water if she was pushed to, and her roommates complained about her all the time. She was mean to all of the nurses, and just wanted to be left alone, even when it was their job NOT to leave her alone. While they didn't tell me about it, she stole from a lot of people while she was there. There were many VHS tapes all over her room, whole drawers full, and I just left those behind and told the nurse to bring them back to activities. She even stole the television set from Encino-Tarzana hospital somehow! I also left that with the home, as I didn't want the responsibility of bringing it to the other hospital, and this way the old people there can still use it.
Her room was a fetid swamp at best upon my arrival. There were brown stains all around where the bed was, and this was explained to me. While I said it in part of my previous post, she refused to get out of bed at all for the last week. She urinated in one of the hospital's juice/water pitchers, trying to save it. The nurses kept dumping it, but they were pissed that she was going in something that was supposed to serve beverages in. It's typical though, when you think about it. As it was, she was urinating into a plastic cup of mine and dumping that into Pepsi bottles, after all. Remember that was thrown away, and even looking at the three remaining ones makes me gag from time to time. She sat in her own excrement for the last six days. When the nurses would try to clean her, she would go crazy, and "try to club them with her meaty appendages." That's a direct quote from a nurse. Pools of water also covered the floor, as the ice bags would melt. The few pictures she showed me from home were plastered onto the wall, COVERED in Scotch tape. Books and magazines, as well as more VHS tapes, littered the tables, and I wondered what her home in Ohio looked like, as she was stealing so much from where she was, and it must have been a long habit to be that much of a packrat.
They asked if I wanted to see the body. She was covered up in the Beauty Shop in the building in a bed, covered with a blanket and bags of ice. I had come this far, now I had to see, to say goodbye or something. I pulled the blanket back, and the stench, oh god the stench was so bad. It was overwhelming, and my head started to swim. The blanket would not go back past her chest; it had become stuck on her bloated body. Her shoulders and arms had become bigger around than two of my waists on top of each other, and had started to obscure her neck. Even if someone had the money to give her a proper burial, there is no way there could be a viewing unless the undertakers were especially skilled at unbloating her, as the moisture she absorbed made her gain a lot. She was 30 pounds bigger than she was when I last saw her, so it's hard to say how much was bloat and how much was weight gain. Her blood had settled, and she was very brusied at the underside of her body, and her ear was a dark purple colour. She must have not been allowed to shave, because she had a full goatee, and hair growing at random places on her face. All in all, it was horrible.
I am also a really bad person. I took pictures for my own remembrance. That will never, EVER happen to me, and I have a reminder of what I want to avoid now.
We got her things back here, and looked through them. We're donating her clothes to GoodWill, though I don't know if they'll want them. There was a surprising amount of porn in there, mostly Swank magazines and the like. She somehow also got her hands on three porn DVDs. I cannot help but wonder when she was able to watch these, as she had a roommate her whole time there. Though I guess the nurses DID tell me that her roommates never lasted long, and asked to be transferred as soon as a bed elsewhere was made available. Zero and Kris took the porno and are giving them to random people on the street, since you know, that's what Zero and Kris are like. There were a lot of water-damaged magazines like Ladies Home Journal and Readers Digest, and we threw those away. I have her Ohio Identification Card still. Her stuffed animals all have poo on them, and they have been given away. She had a few gift bags in her box, mainly full of 99 cent store crap, all from people whom I have never heard of. I would assume that the families of her roommates all took pity on her, which is sweet. What's left? A few pictures, her id card, and some small personal effects, which I will gladly send to her family if I can contact them.
Where does this leave me now? Well, I still want to get in touch with someone from her family. I don't know how I will manage it, but if I can get in touch with her step-father, that would be best, though I no longer have a working number for him. I've posted to a few places asking for help contacting him. If there's anyone in the Cincinnati area who can contact me with any info on Charles Hann or his son Ben, that would be great, because I need to let him know. Otherwise, thanks anyway.
I am sure that there will be more. We'll see what happens.
Let me share with you that Lisa at the morgue is a complete doll, and I really appreciate that she was there. She was ironically so much kinder than the nurses at the home. Of course, I do understand why the women at the home were so upset. I'll get to that later.
One of the calls I got from the home was Myriam asking me to go and pick up Shay's things, so we packed up and headed up there. It was almost scary how close Shay was to me the whole time. Less than a ten minute drive, actually. Anyway, we went to the home and when I told them why I was there, everyone shunted me to the place where she was, and well, it was really surreal. I know that Convalescent Homes are not nice places, and that they're really sad, but these elderly people shuffling about, asking me if I can change their lightbulbs, (this happened twice from two different people. I don't see how they thought I was a nurse, in my jeans, flip-flops and tight-fitting Superman t-shirt.) I felt as though I had entered the Twilight Zone. Several of the elderly women in the halls were agitated. They were yelling about wanting to get their hair done, that their appointments were cancelled. I had to explain who I was and why I was there over and over, and finally the nurses found Myriam, as yet another nurse was yelling at me because Shay had been there dead, at this point, for 14 hours. They were telling me that they had bags of ice on her, which I later found out was a bad thing, because I guess part of bloating is absorbing moisture from the room. The condensation from the ice on her body just made that easier, from what Lisa explained to me.
Anyway, the nurses told me about what the last eight months were like, and it's shocking to me. She did not shower once while she was there, though she would wash herself with a cloth and plain water if she was pushed to, and her roommates complained about her all the time. She was mean to all of the nurses, and just wanted to be left alone, even when it was their job NOT to leave her alone. While they didn't tell me about it, she stole from a lot of people while she was there. There were many VHS tapes all over her room, whole drawers full, and I just left those behind and told the nurse to bring them back to activities. She even stole the television set from Encino-Tarzana hospital somehow! I also left that with the home, as I didn't want the responsibility of bringing it to the other hospital, and this way the old people there can still use it.
Her room was a fetid swamp at best upon my arrival. There were brown stains all around where the bed was, and this was explained to me. While I said it in part of my previous post, she refused to get out of bed at all for the last week. She urinated in one of the hospital's juice/water pitchers, trying to save it. The nurses kept dumping it, but they were pissed that she was going in something that was supposed to serve beverages in. It's typical though, when you think about it. As it was, she was urinating into a plastic cup of mine and dumping that into Pepsi bottles, after all. Remember that was thrown away, and even looking at the three remaining ones makes me gag from time to time. She sat in her own excrement for the last six days. When the nurses would try to clean her, she would go crazy, and "try to club them with her meaty appendages." That's a direct quote from a nurse. Pools of water also covered the floor, as the ice bags would melt. The few pictures she showed me from home were plastered onto the wall, COVERED in Scotch tape. Books and magazines, as well as more VHS tapes, littered the tables, and I wondered what her home in Ohio looked like, as she was stealing so much from where she was, and it must have been a long habit to be that much of a packrat.
They asked if I wanted to see the body. She was covered up in the Beauty Shop in the building in a bed, covered with a blanket and bags of ice. I had come this far, now I had to see, to say goodbye or something. I pulled the blanket back, and the stench, oh god the stench was so bad. It was overwhelming, and my head started to swim. The blanket would not go back past her chest; it had become stuck on her bloated body. Her shoulders and arms had become bigger around than two of my waists on top of each other, and had started to obscure her neck. Even if someone had the money to give her a proper burial, there is no way there could be a viewing unless the undertakers were especially skilled at unbloating her, as the moisture she absorbed made her gain a lot. She was 30 pounds bigger than she was when I last saw her, so it's hard to say how much was bloat and how much was weight gain. Her blood had settled, and she was very brusied at the underside of her body, and her ear was a dark purple colour. She must have not been allowed to shave, because she had a full goatee, and hair growing at random places on her face. All in all, it was horrible.
I am also a really bad person. I took pictures for my own remembrance. That will never, EVER happen to me, and I have a reminder of what I want to avoid now.
We got her things back here, and looked through them. We're donating her clothes to GoodWill, though I don't know if they'll want them. There was a surprising amount of porn in there, mostly Swank magazines and the like. She somehow also got her hands on three porn DVDs. I cannot help but wonder when she was able to watch these, as she had a roommate her whole time there. Though I guess the nurses DID tell me that her roommates never lasted long, and asked to be transferred as soon as a bed elsewhere was made available. Zero and Kris took the porno and are giving them to random people on the street, since you know, that's what Zero and Kris are like. There were a lot of water-damaged magazines like Ladies Home Journal and Readers Digest, and we threw those away. I have her Ohio Identification Card still. Her stuffed animals all have poo on them, and they have been given away. She had a few gift bags in her box, mainly full of 99 cent store crap, all from people whom I have never heard of. I would assume that the families of her roommates all took pity on her, which is sweet. What's left? A few pictures, her id card, and some small personal effects, which I will gladly send to her family if I can contact them.
Where does this leave me now? Well, I still want to get in touch with someone from her family. I don't know how I will manage it, but if I can get in touch with her step-father, that would be best, though I no longer have a working number for him. I've posted to a few places asking for help contacting him. If there's anyone in the Cincinnati area who can contact me with any info on Charles Hann or his son Ben, that would be great, because I need to let him know. Otherwise, thanks anyway.
I am sure that there will be more. We'll see what happens.