Monday the 3rd
I saw Dr. P this morning about my elbow and he says it's healing "beautifully"... but. Bone matter is growing around the metal plates and restricting movement. In two months I have to go back and see about surgery to remove the extra bone and the plates that are keeping me from using my right hand from feeding myself etc because I can't touch my face with it... groan. The new article I wrote for Blog Critics magazine is going over like gangbusters. I guess I still have the ol’ writer in me somewhere. There’s a copy of it on my Politics page and it’s about Bank of America leading the way for other banks to start charging usage fees on their debit cards.
Tuesday the 4th I’d planned to go out to Dr. S/clinic today to see about more insulin, but I’m having one hell of a headache-nervous tension probably. I got a health card from the county today. Grant Hospital said they’d put in a duplicate application for one, but I didn’t think they’d have any better luck than I did. I was pleasantly surprised… until I discovered that the card they sent me expired the end of last month… sigh.
I begged off physical therapy this afternoon as my shoulder hurts like hell from the rain and cold weather. I was supposed to gather up all of my financial stuff and go over to Social security but since I drive halfway there tomorrow to see my analyst, I’ll go after I see her. I’ve decided to refer to Dr. Mind as my analyst from now on, it sounds classier. Ha ha. It’s supposed to be in the mid-seventies tomorrow and sunny so hopefully I can put the top down. When my check (if my check) comes on Friday, I might actually have enough to do laundry this weekend.
The county usually sends health cards out around the first, and since I haven’t gotten a current one, I guess it was fun to hope while it lasted. I’m going to have to call someone and see if I qualified finally, if that means they’ll start paying my $100+ copay for my Medicare part B. That’s cash I could sure use. I got the spreadsheed finally done and the new cash predictor works great, so now I can see three months into the future. The problem is will I have any income to put on it. With the fucking congress constantly threatening to shut down the government, and me being forced to see GB’s “independent” scrink next week, who knows what’s next.
I spotted a gas station at only $3.09 a gallon last week and used half the grocery money. Fortunately I’m getting that handy-dandy $15 in food stamps.
A fan of mine from my Brokeback Mountain Novel/tribute page has asked me to proofread it and try to embellish certain parts (the sex scenes) and I said I would, so I started reading over it today. My Headline news service is slow to catch on. It’s pissing me off that Google and Yahoo don’t seem to be scanning blogs anymore for their search engines since they’re convinced that everyone’s on facebook. I guess I’ll have to give up soon and go there too… but not now.
Gallagher Bassett is still not only demanding to read my analyst’s notes, but I suspect that they’re reading this too... or am I just being paranoid.
Tomorrow should be a busy day.
Tuesday the 11th
I had a nightmare about my attackers waiting in the parking lot of GB’s shrink for me to show up so they could kidnap me to keep me from making the appointment causing me to lose my benefits. I remember running away and falling a lot because of my leg. They caught up to me at Mt. Carmel Hospital and I woke up screaming at the top of my lungs.
I set the clock radio for physical therapy and when I woke up and checked the computer, there was no reminder as to what time the appointment was. I called there and discovered that last Thursday’s was my last scheduled appointment and they won’t be able to see me until next week. Great. I’m slowly making progress and can touch my nose by straining, but I still can’t feed myself with my right hand, nor can I completely straighten my arm. I used the time to work on proofreading my Brokeback Mountain webnovel. My god, I can’t believe how many typos there are that I didn’t catch the first time. That’s why professional writers hire proofreaders, because your mind tends to complete a sentence you’ve just written and doesn’t notice the errors.
In the middle of all that I got a call from AT&T’s U-verse installer. I objected because I said I’d do it myself and he corrected my misconception when I ordered it. It turns out they physically have to move wires around in the basement of our building to gain the extra internet speed. I asked when he was coming (so I could do some “panic cleaning”) and he said he was calling from outside the building at the front door. I got J.J. the janitor to let us into the utility rooms and fortunately he didn’t have to come in here.
He was a nice enough guy, but I still started having flashbacks of the attack in the confined utility room and begged of leaving.
After he left I hooked up the new modem and didn’t notice any noticeable difference in speed. Oh well, it’s ten bucks cheaper so who am I to complain?
My ears were ringing especially loud this evening, so I put on the headphones and listened to music. I started getting that feeling that someone was outside my door again and had to keep taking off the headset to see if I missed someone knocking… God I hate this. I can’t fall asleep and this is being written at 5AM. That means setting the clock-radio to get up in time to see Dr. Mind tomorrow and I’ve got a bunch of notes I have to type in… groan. text
Wednesday the 12
Dr. Mind called me first thing this morning to tell me that Jennifer over at GB informed her that they won’t pay for any visits for the month of October, so she had to cancel our appointment today. Great-just fucking great. I’ve been worried about having to go to their “independent” shrink tomorrow to the point of probably developing an ulcer and they pull this shit on me. Unfuckingbelievable. This probably means no check or only a partial one next week and nor more antidepressants. Thank god I started hoarding it after the withdrawal symptoms I suffered last time going from 90mg a day to zero cold turkey.
It also just dawned on me that once the cycle is broken, I’ll never get my regular Wednesday appointment at noon that I’ve had for the last seven years, because the time slot will be taken by someone else. Rather than give up, I called Lawyer/K’s office and his assistant told me there’s nothing they can do for now, except make sure I go to the appointment tomorrow. In fact I can’t do anything about my financial future until GB actually cuts me off, which I won’t find out about until days after it’s already happened. By then it’ll be too late and I’ll be without any savings to pay the car, internet and phone bill.
I feel that dreaded overwhelming hopelessness coming over me. I just want to scream out “WHY?” at the top of my lungs. Not that it would do any good, I’m tempted to call Jennifer at GB and cuss her out in frustration… Just to show her how “sane” I am.
Dr. Mind called me back around 12:30 to see how I was, so I read her my notes for the last 7 days. She said she was pissed (I was shocked) because Jennifer decided not to inform her they weren’t paying for October… until halfway through the month. I reminded her that’s what they do with everything and why I’m so stressed out as to whether the next check’s coming or not.
My head hurts again bad… gee, I wonder why.
Friday the 14th
(E-mail to my lawyer) Dear Chuck,
I want to thank you again for all of the "pro-bono" help you've given me over the years and how much I appreciate it.
Dr. M******* suggested I take notes with me to discus such things as not being able to completely open up to her knowing total strangers were reading her notes/intimate details of my life, and the ordeal of getting cymbalta every refill - only to discover none of it was necessary, my fear of strangers, unable to sleep for more than a few hours at a time, and not going anywhere outside my apartment. Even though the session lasted nearly two hours-he would hear nothing of it, and stuck to a lengthy questionaire about my medical history and prescriptions I was taking.
Then he switched to asking me questions about who the president and vice president were and posing memory quizzes and spelling words backwards.
He had a very strict script that he stuck to and actually didn't seem very interested in my mental condition, problems sleeping or dealing with others. I came away with the impression that both he and I were given a fixed deck of cards we were allowed to play and that Gallagher Bassett had the winning hand before the deck was even dealt. Considering how much pressure Dr. M******* says she was under to declare me "improved" and that they turned to Dr. Clary instead when she wouldn't cooperate...
I biggest problem now is - as usual - I'll have no idea I've been cut off from temporary total until it actually happens. I barely have enough food in the house until the next check comes and I have no idea if that check will come at all. This on-going situation put me in the hospital three years ago with a double ulcer. Now that my much-needed sessions with Dr. M******* have been unexpectantly taken away Wednesday, an hour before I was scheduled to go in, I have no idea what to do next and am getting very depressed with the not knowing, and the frustration of not being able to predict my own future even a week in advance.
If anything unexpected happens and I lose my phone service or my internet, I want you to know how much it means to me that through this whole ordeal you are the one man I could count on.
I've told everyone who'll listen that, and I mean it from the bottom of my heart.
Thanks so much
Wishing you love, luck, & laughter
Jet text
Monday the 18th
It’s so goddamned unfair. GB decided sometime in September that they’re not paying for my sessions for the month of October, but doesn’t tell Dr. Mind about it until the middle of October. For all I know Ohio State University will come back on me for the sessions we had this month that they won’t pay for. In addition to that the sons of bitches decided to cut me off BEFORE they even determined whether or not I still need those sessions. UNFUCKINBELIEVABLE.
The weekend went by without my noticing it. I slept mostly. Usually I can’t sleep more than a couple hours at a time, but now I can’t stay awake. When I am awake I’m wondering if I’m going to lose the car because GB isn’t going to deposit this Friday’s check.
I went to physical therapy today and was so glum that I hardly talked to anyone at all. When it was done there all I could think of was taking an overdose of insulin or ramming my car into a bridge abutment or something. Somehow I wound up upstairs at WorkHealth instead of leaving and I don’t remember what I said, which scares me, but they want me to go back tomorrow and seem to be really worried about me going home by myself… so was I, but because I was scared another “disassociative” episode like last time could end me up in Cleveland or New York or somewhere.
The problem is if GB won’t pay for the appointment tomorrow, I can’t afford it. It was as if I was smothered in a cloud of gloom and I didn’t want to go through this any more. I really-really needed to see Dr. Mind last week about the nightmares and the torture of not knowing if the next check is coming or what the next dirty trick will be.
The flashbacks are getting worse and so are the headaches. Last night the energy saving bulb in my kitchen ceiling light blew out. I’m afraid to change it for fear of falling and breaking something else so I’m using the over counter light now.
The freezer’s empty so I’m down to cheap cans of soup again. I’ve been obsessing about not being able to see Dr. Mind again, and now that the stress of possibly being cut off and taking months to get a full Disability check looms over me constantly, I need her more than ever. Wouldn’t you know it, after 7 years of reminding them to tell their computer that I don’t need one, OSU’s computer called me in the middle of this evening with a reminder call that I had an appointment to see Dr. Mind on Wednesday. I guess some idiot went to cancel my schedule and clicked the wrong button.
My head hurts.
Tuesday the 18th
I woke up screaming last night again. Blissfully I don’t remember what the nightmare was. I can no longer fall asleep until I’m too exhausted to stay awake-usually 5AM. I kept my appointment at WorkHealth and though I don’t remember much, I must’ve scared the hell out of everyone and they pledged to contact GB and try to get Dr. Mind’s appointments reinstated. The fucking bastards at GB will be the death of me yet. I’m still worried that GB will refuse to pay for the visit and Grant Hospital will come back on me for it.
I kept getting political junk mail calls all day, so I finally gave in and went on line to get an absentee ballot. Let’s hope I get it on time. I haven’t voted in person in 6 years because of my fear of strangers, always voting by mail instead.
I was still upset when I got home and tried to reach Dr. Mind’s supervisor-she’d given me his cell phone number in case of emergencies and god I needed him because I couldn’t reach her. I caught him in the middle of a meeting (which made me feel bad) and he promised he’d call me right back… he never did.
I talked to my apartment building manager and hinted that I might miss next month’s rent. Everyone says not to worry, because the independent shrink hasn’t sent in his report yet, but as paranoid as GB has made me over the last 7 years, that doesn’t help. I got a letter in the mail from Anthem saying I owed them almost $700 in monthly payments since 2009. I haven’t sent them a penny since being dumped on their doorstep over two years ago. Just one more problem.
Wednesday the 19
I got a strange phone call this morning from someone at OSU who said they’d had trouble with Dr. Mind’s notes and wanted to know what pharmacy I used for my Crestor and Coreg (for my heart and cholesterol) and I told her I didn’t get those through her, but relied on Grant clinic for drug rep samples because I couldn’t afford Anthem’s copays. Then she got confused and said she’d called about setting up a prescription for my Cymbalta (depression) which I already have through Workman’s comp/WorkHealth. She got flustered and hung up after admitting she couldn’t figure out why she’d called… sigh
No usual appointment with Dr. Mind today, instead I went to physical therapy. Thankfully I’m making progress straightening my arm, but not so much bending it towards my face. I’m still struggling with feeding myself with my left hand. I’m still trying to get a definitive answer as to whether or not GB didn’t pay for any of my physical therapy. They gave me two different account numbers and a phone number to call. That’s gone well in the past and I’ve ended up just as mystified as when I started… why should this time be any different, but what a great thing to hold over GB’s head. I went upstairs to WorkHealth after PT (they’re in the same building.) They had asked me to try to refill my Cymbalta prescription this month from there in case I had trouble and I nearly fainted when it went straight through without trouble so I arranged to pick it up tomorrow.
I had to resort to turning on the heat last night. We’ve been about 20 degrees colder that usual with rain and every operated-on joint in my body is bitching painfully at me. Dr. Mind called me to say she’d still had no success at trying to reinstate our appointments and was trying unsuccessfully to reach Jennifer L’s supervisor. I asked her to try again to get the annoying reminder calls from OSU aborted that remind me that I have an upcoming appointment with her… you know-the ones that have been canceled. Between dropping off to sleep every so often I spent the day working on custom pictures for the Brokeback novel.
Thursday the 20
My head hurts like hell this morning and my ears are ringing especially loud-this makes two nights in a row. I’m still worried I won’t get a check tomorrow, but since the Cymbalta was approved, I probably don’t have anything to worry about… or so says Dr. Mind.
What me paranoid?
I called Giant Eagle and ordered refills on my Metformin and Glipizide for my diabetes. I didn’t refill the Carvedilol because I don’t have $4 for it… Christ. On the way north to pick up my Cymbalta I noted my odometer says I’m way past due for the oil change… there’s nothing I can do about it. Traffic is hell now that they’ve closed a bunch of ramps on ’71 for reconstruction. Afterward I headed south and picked up my diabetes meds from Giant Eagle… God help me if they stop their promotion of giving out free diabetes meds.
I got home to the news that they got Gadaffi in Libya and killed the son of a bitch. He was captured, beaten and killed by his own people… JUSTICE. Also in the broadcast was good news that Social Security will be increasing our benefits next year, for which I breathed a sigh of relief since they haven’t for three years now… fool that I am, because it was immediately offset with news that they’re going to increase Medicare premiums more, which probably means I’ll be getting less… groan.
What I thought was a bill from Anthem turned out to be a notice saying that I was eligible for help with my premiums from them-which is wrong because I’ve been turned down for help with them for the last two years. Par for the course.
Friday the 21
I couldn’t sleep all last night worrying about today’s GB check. I was still awake at 7:30AM checking my checking account. The direct deposit always appears on-line no later than 6AM. This is not a good sign but I chastised myself for being paranoid and finally fell asleep around 8AM. A collection agency call woke me up at noon, so I checked on my account. No deposit. THIS is why I’m so paranoid. They do it without warning, I don’t know it’s happened until too late and there’s no planning for it financially.
I’M OUT OF FUCKING FOOD FOR CHRIST’S SAKE.
I fell into a deep dark funk instead of going into a rage. I felt one coming though and seriously though of injecting a whole pen’s-worth of insulin but called Dr. Mind’s cell first. She said I should wait out the day, but I know that’s useless from past experience. It shows all the classic signs of them fucking me over without warning again. I hung up with her and called my caseworker Jennifer L at GB and of course got her voicemail, laying out how my car payment was due the 15th and I had until the 25th to take advantage of the 10-day grace period. So far she hasn’t called back. I called Lawyer Chuck’s office and got his assistant Lindsay’s voicemail and left the same message. I called WorkHealth and they were infuriated because my C84 authorizing the checks was good until November 18th and it was good enough to get the check on the 7th. She said she’d try to call GB and find out what was going on. My doctor called from WorkHealth a minute later and said they might try to pull some bullshit where since I saw her last Tuesday that they might try to say that I needed another C84 despite the fact that my current one was still good and said she’d get back to me if she heard anything…. Sigh.
I called Chuck’s office back and filled his assistant in on what WorkHealth said about them fucking with my C84 and she said they wouldn’t do that. HA.
My stomach is bubbling, so I ate a sleeve of saltines to calm it… which would’ve been my dinner tonight.
There’s a good reason why this blog is titled the way it is…
