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What can I say? Grief sucks. Dealing with the Division of Pensions and Benefits, Social Security has no appointments available until the end of the month. Then there's the Life Insurance, cremation and promises of help at any time, but I've called twice and got no return calls, just a box of ashes and one certified death certificate with a raised seal. Credit card companies chopping me off at the fucking ankles, because I was only "an authorized user". THANK YOU AMERICAN EXPRESS, four words I never dreamed I would say.

My husband's primary care doctor saying there is no way he died from Alzheimer's and the sub acute rehab hell giving his office and me a hard time, just trying to obtain all records from when he was there, them KNOWING they were releasing him in a septic state, but giving us a different reason. Lying to my face. A little over two weeks since he died and it's as if the money makers don't care at all.

A very good lawyer told me these are the worst cases because the hospital/ doctor/or nursing home will have a top notch team and they'll rip you apart, and him because he had Alzheimer's. In my mind this is discrimination against the elderly, the vulnerable, those whose mind and voice have become more quiet through no fault of their own. The lawyer gave me the phone number of a medical malpractice attorney and I had to leave a message.

Everyone I call is either out to lunch or in a meeting or on vacation. Well, fuck them. I'll be the voice, not just for my husband but for others in this broken, fucked up "health care system" where Godforbid a family is told your loved one should go here and then they treat them with little to no respect, let alone proper medication, or care. Makes me sick.

I'm deliberately excluding specific details because I do intend to sue for negligence and medical malpractice, as well as wrongful death. At the very least, I will share our story with whomever will listen. Each day, I feel I'm slogging through muck and mire, small moments of grief punctuated by accomplishing some small task, slowly removing his name from our banking account, our home. Breaks my heart.