Stress doesn’t begin to describe it what I’m feeling right
now. Just a few days ago, I was telling
someone that if I had to apply for the help I’m now getting, I would be
physically unable to do it. And guess
what? I just got notice that I have to
re-apply and I will lose all benefits by the end of March if I don’t send it
all back again. One of the things is a
copy of my birth certificate. I get that
some things may change for some people, but I doubt that part would change. What HAS changed is that I’m getting
worse. I can’t hold a pen to fill in the
application.
So I called my case worker and she’s coming over next week,
but I still have to run around town and re-do everything I did a year ago. THEY JUST DON’T GET IT. I told her I’m in so much pain I CANNOT do
this stuff. So she suggested a family member help. Not gonna work, especially in their time
frame. Pam can help me with some of it,
but why, for instance, I can’t give them my bank statements by downloading it
off my computer, I’ll never know. They
make you go to the bank and get it and apparently, they can tell the
difference.
Breathe. Must
breathe. It will all work out, but I
hate the process. And I do understand
that in many instances, things change for the better for people. I’m just not one of them. Pam said she’d be here the day my social
worker comes so she can answer questions she may have and confirm the kind of
help she’s giving me. They know anyway,
because she has to let them know what she does for me every week.
This is the hardest part of being in a health situation that
requires help from the state. Admitting
it is perhaps the worst, but staying on top of everything when you are in
horrible pain every day is beyond words.
When I have a problem with a bill that’s wrong, or something fairly “simple”
but needs my attention, it’s very difficult to handle emotionally. People used to say to me, “Well everyone
deals with the gnats in life” True enough.
But not everyone deals with it while in intractable pain that, on the
1-10 scales, hovers around a 7 most days.
So when I am asked to re-do everything every year it’s daunting, to say
the least.
I am grateful that I have it and I do consider myself lucky,
I really do. It’s just that when these
things come up, I want to have a life partner that can help me with the day to
day challenges of chronic, intractable pain.
Oh well. Oliver gives me snuggles
and kisses and for that, I am also grateful!
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