New Year, Same Shit
ARGH. I am so frustrated. My Dad has offered to pay for the contrast MRI I need to determine if my disc is still herniated. I simply must be able to move on and get better. I must!
However, because I am a diabetic, they will not do the contrast MRI unless I have a BUN & Creatnine level done. My surgeon happily writes a scrip for said blood work. Now…where to go? I call every MediCal connections I can find. They say go to county. County says go to a MediCal provider (even though I have to pay the first $1516 each month). MediCal provider says “We don’t do blood work ordered by other doctors. You will have to make an appointment with one of our doctors (pay us another $55) and they will write the orders and then you can pay us for the blood work.” I say hell no. Call the MRI people. They say “Try the hospital, they take MediCal.” Duh, of course.
Hospital lab says sure, we will do it. The two tests will be $55.80 and $64.40 (which you will pay), but we will apply it to your monthly share of cost. That seems like a lot of money. I call a local lab company, ask how much of a discount I get if I pay cash up front for the tests. Total: $32.60.
Lesson learned: If you are poor and on MediCal (but not poor enough to have the free MediCal) then you should pay four times the amount for necessary blood work than anyone else who pays cash.
So, I will just pay the cheap lab and not have it go against my MediCal share of cost. But seriously, this bullsh*t took all morning! I am annoyed as heck. But I do have an MRI scheduled for next Tuesday!
I’d Rather Go Back To Boring
I’ve been worrying about what to blog about. There is so very little going on around here, except sewing, that I haven’t had any ideas. I spend my days worrying about how if I don’t blog, I won’t make the connections I need to stay positive and to meet more people to market my aprons to. I worry about where the money for the rent and utilities and food are going to come from. My last disability check paid through November 12th. Apparently, when my surgeon originally completed the forms he thought I would be better by then. When I saw him on the 11th of November, he decided I need a contrast MRI due to my continued inability to work. The MRI must have prior authorization from Medi-Cal (in spite of the fact that I must pay the first $1000 of any medical costs each month). I am still awaiting approval. So I worry, when they do approve it, will the MRI company take payments? I am sure the disability payments will catch up eventually, but in the meanwhile we have zero income. I have been selling quite a few aprons, one or two a week, but how does two people survive financially on that meager $60 a week? I am blessed that the person whom I rent from is not going to kick me out (at least not yet, as far as I know), but I use what we get to eat, buy toilet paper: basics. It doesn’t pay for the blood work I need to have done before my regular MD will refill my diabetes medications. They ran out this week.
I was reading this article by Mir Kamin, Facing The Holidays During Financial Crisis, and I realized that I wasn’t really worried about the holidays. Even with all the other worries on my mind, I haven’t been letting it get me down. I just keep pushing through each day. I get a little down when the mail comes each day and there is no response from SSDI regarding Mr. Vixen’s ruling. Mostly I get angry about it because they said it would be about 30 days and it’s already been 90. Still, I get over it all and move through; doing what I can to stay upbeat and survive. Mir’s article reminded me of the really lean years when our kid’s were younger. How much I worried Christmas would be ruined for them. I am not much about getting gifts, but I really do love to give them. Reading the article reminded me that I have one less thing to worry about during this difficult time because my children are all adults now. I don’t have to explain, they already know. It’s a blessing really, to know that I can enjoy the season without the worries.
So the point of this long winded (and possibly confusing) post was that I didn’t know what to post because there just isn’t much happening. And I wouldn’t care about not posting, except that I value the interaction I get online and that I am trying hard to learn about marketing myself (ApronFrenzy) and making connections and I worry that I might miss out on opportunity when it knocks. And then my phone rang.
It was my mother, asking if I had talked to Great. I had, about a week ago, but not about what my mother was calling regarding. You see, Great made a decision not to talk to people about this matter for now because of the season. The matter being: last week, my grandmother (aka Great) had a follow up mammo which discovered a large dense mass in her remaining breast. Long time readers will know that Great is a survivor of breast cancer (and lymphoma) and has been breast cancer free since her partial mastectomy and chemo treatment in 2003. Today she went for an MRI to further diagnose this new mass. We await results.
And, suddenly, I just want boring back. I want to have nothing to write here except to post new aprons I’ve made this week. I want to worry about finding some media guru to take me under their wing and help me market enough aprons to buy Christmas dinner. I want to go back to worrying about the same mundane crap that I worry about everyday, so don’t bother writing about. I want boring back, I’d even take mundane. But I won’t allow that wordthatbeginswithc back. I just won’t. And if the power of positive thinking has any power at all? Then I’ve got that aced.
Someone Stole My Halloween Decorations
Can you believe that? Someone stole the head off my Halloween decoration right outside my front window. It has been 
there since the 2nd, and was stolen last night between midnight – 6 am. I just think that is so very, very rude. They even took the pole that was holding up the body?! Why did they need that? I needed that, it was the telescoping part of my window cleaner. It has put me in a nasty mood this morning. Grrrrr.
Thank heavens, there is something cheery going on to distract me. I have a giveaway that just started running today over at the Apron Goddesses. You have a chance to win TWO aprons and there are even some details about how to get a discount (woo hoo). Head on over here, to this entry, for details. Who knows maybe I’ll earn enough to replace the head on my decoration? (But don’t worry, if I do I will bring them in at night so LOSERS don’t take them again).
On an unrelated note, but also very cheery my lovely grand-dog Bubbles started walking yesterday!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes, it appears my belief (obviously not the doctors) that it was just swelling from the injury and not permanent paralysis was right. To give credit where credit is due, I have to tell you all I could not have done this without the lovely emergency care ideas, hydrotherapy idea, and fantastic ongoing support from the fabulous Sara (@heartmychloe) at TomTheGirl. Without her caring and support during these last eight days, poor Bubbles may have suffered a more permanent injury. Thanks Sara. And dear Bubbles, keep resting until you are all the way better, it’s gonna take time, but I know you missed your girls so I am glad you got to go home last night.
Not Much To Cheer About Tuesday
Congratulations to Yoga Witch who won the custom apron from ApronFrenzy at Mrs. B’s giveaway yesterday. If you didn’t win, please take a look at the available aprons for sale. Also stay tuned very soon for another giveaway of a custom apron over at ApronGodessess (anticipation much?)
On the home front, there isn’t much good news. Although the 30 days has progressed, we still have no word on the final disposition of Mr. Vixen’s SSDI hearing. It has been 33 days now (not that I am counting).
On an even sadder note, while dog-sitting Bubbles (who is Ladybug’s service dog in training) he somehow hurt himself on Saturday. By Sunday morning he was dragging his legs. By Monday morning, when we visited the vet he appears to have loss of feeling in both his back legs and no movement. The vet believes it is a herniated disc. She is not very hopeful about recovery, but is also not willing to give up hope yet. He is a very young and an otherwise healthy dog so we just have to give it time. I believe since he wasn’t paralyzed at the immediate time of when he somehow hurt himself (he was in the backyard by himself, no one saw what happened we just heard him yipping) and since the paralysis came on over time, that it might be swelling from the herniation. Many of you know I suffered a terrible disc herniation in July and had to undergo surgery, so I can certainly identify with Bubbles’ issues.
We used every single penny we had to get him the treatment we could (thanks to some twitterers who bought aprons for that very purpose). Obviously we can’t afford to get the myelogram to see if surgery is needed so we are on a course of steroids and antibiotics and crossing our fingers and toes. I have to help him empty his bladder, but he knows when he needs to poop and let’s me know so I can carry him out. There is some worry that he could get sores on his legs from dragging them, so I am trying to figure out a way to crochet something to protect them until he gets better (can’t afford to buy them, so if you have a pattern idea let me know!). As I said, we used every last penny we had for the visit and meds (actually I was short $3.37, but they said they would bill me, wasn’t that kind of them?), and we will still need some more meds (not to mention carpet cleaning solution). I made the choice to use our food money, because Ladybug is that important to me and I believe he deserves a chance. I encourage you to visit ApronFrenzy and tell everyone you know about it, as all money made there will go to his care.
I am off to give Bubbles some hydrotherapy and help him empty his bladder. All positive thoughts, prayers, well wishes and anything else you can think of is greatly appreciated. Ladybug will be home from her dad’s sister’s wedding on Wednesday and I hope there is some improvement by then. The vet thinks it could take up to a month though, so I guess I am hoping for a miracle.
“The status quo sucks”
The hearing is complete. And we know nothing more than when we went in there. Wait, that is not true. We now know (because a vocational expert told us so), that Mr. Vixen can work. He meets the ‘so-called’ requirements, physically and vocationally, to perform the job of cuff folder. And, according to the expert, there are 500+ cuff folder jobs in the state of California. There are no current openings and we don’t know where in the state they are, but those things are not taken into consideration when giving expert vocational testimony.
All the records are in, all the testimony is given and all we can do now is wait for her decision. We should be notified of the decision (I am not holding my breath) within the next 30 days. Our lawyer says one of three things could happen: 1) She grants him disability, 2) She denies him disability or 3) She states he can do sedentary work only i.e., cuff folder (which denies him disability now, but may qualify him for disability at age 50-in two years-if he doesn’t improve and does not work for the next two years). The new, unimproved me, calculates those as bad odds. The old me, who had a much more positive attitude, discounts an outright denial (it is their doctor that said he can only do sedentary work) and says the odds are 50/50. I have those two little ‘me’ people, one sitting on either shoulder, yelling those odds in my ears.
I am going to find some ear plugs for the next 30 days.
As A Stranger Holds My World In Her Hand
Three years ago, August 31, 2006, my husband had an episode. The results of which (after thousands of dollars I spent after insurance) were they didn’t know what happened. He would pass out. He couldn’t move without becoming dizzy. His blood pressure plummeted and stayed low normal, even though he had high blood pressure and had been taking medication for years. He was unable to work. He developed crippling anxiety and paranoia. He became so depressed, we actually became afraid we would lose him. His knees were shot. After the one year of state disability was exhausted the only improvement was in his depression. The rest, most especially his knees became worse. He had several surgeries which were not helpful or successful. We applied for long term disability.
In the last three years we have been denied SSDI three times. We began our final appeal (a hearing before an Administrative Law Judge) one year ago. We tried to hire lawyers three times. One finally agreed to look at our case in January, but has not done a single thing for us. Just before this lawyer took our case, we had our first hearing with the judge, which she postponed so we could find a lawyer to take our case. The postponement was supposed to be a month or two. We finally were re-scheduled for a hearing today, nine months later.
Today it will finally end. One way or the other. My mom says even if we don’t get it, we aren’t any worse off than we are now, but I don’t believe that is true. It is true that my husband’s income was 60% of our household income and doing without it for the last years has been extremely difficult. There was an entire year when I worked two full time jobs, before I become so exhausted I couldn’t handle it. We had to give up our home of 10 years. We lived in an RV. We have been evicted, turned out for collections, had liens placed against us, owe thousands of dollars, been on food stamps, and are on MediCal. I have had to beg for money to eat. Not exactly the future we had worked hard for the last nearly 30 years. But, as mom says, we are already at the bottom.
The problem is, if he is denied, we lose hope. For all these years, we had hope. Hope that he would have some small amount of income from SSDI. Hope that it would be enough for us to sustain a bare minimum existence. Hope that he wouldn’t have to feel like he couldn’t contribute anymore. Hope we could pick ourselves up, brush ourselves off and climb back up.
A stranger, a judge, holds our hope in her hands today. I can’t say I have much faith in the system anymore. I want to, but I just can’t anymore.
Here goes nothing and everything.
I See The Storm Gathering
I see the storm approaching this time. No surprises, I think. Before we were unprepared, we didn’t even know what had hit us at first. We were blind sided and knocked out cold. But now, the skies have cleared a bit and I can see the storm coming. Relentlessly, it bears down upon me and I watch as it hits the rickety repairs we have made around our hearts. I stand, transfixed, as it rips at the foundation we have laid in the last year. I want to run and hide. I want to find a shelter where it cannot touch us. I want to be like the eagle, I really do.
Did you know that an eagle knows when a storm is approaching long before it breaks? The eagle will fly to some high spot and wait for the winds to come. When the storm hits, it sets its wings so that the wind will pick it up and lift it above the storm. While the storm rages below, the eagle is soaring above it. The eagle does not escape the storm. It simply uses the storm to lift it higher. It rises on the winds that bring the storm.
Old grief, new grief. Grief that never left for some. New scars, old scars. Wounds ripped open and new ones being created. I want to fly above it all, yet I want to be there. In the middle of the storm. Passing sandbags to shore up weak hearts. Boarding up the windows on our souls. Mopping up the torrential downpour so no one slips and falls into the abyss. Collecting blankets to keep us warm during the flood of pain. Handing out first aid supplies to stave of infections of the heart. Building shelters to minimize destruction of our psyches.
Or just…..
Turning back time, so it never came.
Endlessly, it seems, the storm crashes over us. I cannot see where we are headed, but I know if we just hang on we may find the light on the other side of the clouds. I’ll just keep them moving along with me. After all, the storm will blow itself out eventually…..
I hope.
And Collin, I know you are in heaven watching us fumble along through this and I love you.
A post from Vixen’s daughter
Hi, all. This is Shannon (AKA Nannygoat), Vixen’s daughter. She called me @ 11:40 tonight because it is “very important” to update her peeps on the goings on for the next few days. So, I am up now giving an update. Teehee.
We made it home at about 11:30 last night from our trip. This morning, she woke up with excruciating back pain (this back thing has been going on for a while) but, she couldn’t take it anymore so she had my dad (I forgot my mom’s super-secret name for him…Oh wait, Mr. Vix was that it?) I dunno…moving on. She had Mr. Vix take her to the ER this morning.
They gave her an MRI and decided she needed surgery. When I asked my mom what the surgery was for she mumbled Dr. type lingo at me which to me was just as bad as listening to my dad rattle on about radiator caps and fuel injectors. She said needed bilateral L4-5 partial Laminectomy & a L4 L5 Discectomy
ENGLISH VERSION: She has a Herniated Disc.
She’s been admitted and her surgery will start a 7:30 am. She will be in the hospital for about 3 days. I will try to keep you posted! Wish her well and leave her lots of nice comments to come home to, please!
-Shannon
They Have Experts That Calculate When Your Car Will Break. And they are good at it.
“Now this is going to be blogged,” Sparkles announced as he sadly shook his head and hugged me good bye. “Honestly, I think we would have been better off not knowing.”
And right he was. This was surely blog worthy. A thousand cuss words ran through my mind at lightening speed, as though I had developed some new internal swearing disorder. I laughed through my tears, frustrated, but not surprised at the turn events. This is, after all, my life. Right?
Last week, my only vehicle (for which I have a hefty payment each month and three years left to pay) died. Suddenly, without warning for who knows what reason. Sparkles and Mr. Vixen had decided the night before to spend Wednesday figuring out why and fixing it. After nearly five hours of testing, working, googling and several phone conversations with an auto repair consultant Mr. Vixen trusts; the problem was revealed. It was bad news. The timing belt was done. A pricey and difficult repair. Mr. Vixen’s ‘worst-case’ scenario played out.
It was nearly 8pm by then. We were all disappointed and exhausted. A sudden thought entered my head. It seemed insane. You see, at the beginning of our life together Mr. Vixen and I had had several bad experiences with extended warranties. We had sworn them off. But , I suddenly thought, hadn’t we gotten sucked in again three years ago when we bought the van? At the time things were going well for us and the additional $2195 seemed manageable. I said it out loud. “Hey, Mr. Vixen, call me crazy but I just got the feeling that I kinda-sorta remember buying an extended service contract for the van. Did we?” Mr. Vixen looked at me like I had two heads. Then he smiled a little. “By George, I think we did, didn’t we?” As I grabbed the keys and started towards the van, Sparkles said “Mum, you better not have gotten us all excited for nothing.”
In the glove box was a little booklet. Even without my glasses, the lettering on the front was large enough that I could read it: Vehicle Service Contract. My heart pounding with joy, I ran back to the guys. “Here Sparkles, I don’t have my glasses on and can’t read the little stuff inside.” Sparkles asked what today’s date was. I told him it’s the sixth. A smile spread across his face. “You have four days left.”
Nothing like this ever happens to us. We were instantly ecstatic! This was fantastic. I grabbed the little card from his hand and stared. I could hardly believe it. Then I saw something that looked like it said Expiration Mileage. “Wait, guys,” I said. “There is a mileage limitation. It says 96,208.” Mr. Vixen and Kyle looked at each other. “Didn’t you say it only had 95k on it Sparkles?” Mr. Vixen asked. “Yea something like that, hold on I will check.” And he ran back to the car.
Meanwhile, Fishboy grabbed the card from me. “I can’t believe you cut it that close,” he was grinning. “You are never that lucky.” He glanced down at the card. “Vixen, this doesn’t say 96,208, it says 95,208.” Oh shit, I thought. Sparkles returned and triumphantly announced, “There are only 95,397 miles on it, so we are good.” Then he saw the look on our faces and Fishboy told him I had read the mileage expiration wrong. We had missed it by exactly 189 miles. Unbelievable. Just when I thought I had made one good decision in my life, the rug was ripped out from under me by 189 little miles.
I kind of agree with Sparkles though, I think we would have been better off not knowing. But I still have to laugh a little through the tears, because like I said: This is my life. I can hardly expect anything different at this point, can I?
EDITED: As per Marlee, we called the dealership we purchased the vehicle from (Poway Honda) to see if they would share a little goodwill during these difficult economic times (we are both unemployed, it’s really is very sad) and they claim there is nothing they can do about it. They suggested we call HondaCare who we bought the contract through, but it really is this company who administers it: Automobile Protection Corporation) and that person said she had no authority to do anything, but to try calling the dealership. That is what I have always called, passing the buck. I have always believed in the old adage: Give a customer good service and they will tell 5 friends, give a customer poor service and they will tell 25 friends. And so, I share with you my friends: goodwill is not alive and well and HondaCare/APCO/Poway Honda you can all suckit.
How BiPolar Disorder Affects Me Today
who is he. where did my husband go. i want him back.
what do i do. where do i turn. who do i talk to.
at first it was to be expected. anxious. angry. scared. stressed.
i treated him like shit. i know. we both did. what do you do after 20-something years and someone gets sick, but there is no disease?
i get it. i still acted wrong at times, especially after a long day at one job and 6-8 hours at the one i picked up because he couldn’t work. i carried us. i don’t mind. i took what i could get. but during all that time, i still saw the person i married. not as often. but still very much there sometimes.
about six months ago he disappeared. now he is just. there. not happy, but not unhappy. OK, he says. the drugs work (?) he doesn’t want to die anymore. he ‘functions’. he isn’t sad, but i see no joy. he isn’t angry but i see no response. i am glad that ‘the world’ thinks he is okay. he can’t (won’t?) work. he can’t (won’t) make a decision. he can’t (won’t?) participate in life.
i am lonely. never felt this way before. life is hard right now. i’m unemployed and scared and freaked the fuck out and alone. he wants his cigarettes. otherwise he just ‘knows’ or just doesn’t care that things will be taken care of. we had brief conversations about how he could help, but that is all they are. sounds people make when no one is listening.
where is he? he has always been the instigator in our physical relationship. always, even after 25 years. we were both comfortable with that. but now he is gone. now, even i try. now, even i have screamed in the night the unsayable. at first i thought i could take it. but now there are no more brief kiss-goodnights even and i don’t know how to get around that.
really. i am a touchy/feely person. i don’t know how to get away from it. the loss of physical contact is like a giant, deep, dark, bloody, gaping whole in my side.
just put aside the fact that i can’t talk without him becoming defensive. i can’t move without him thinking something is wrong. can’t function without being attacked. BUT
mostly I miss a hug. a light kiss. just a touch. a hand squeeze. something that says hey, i still love you. or even hey, i don’t hate you.
Find the Vixen
For Realz
Spread The Frenzy
Barked Back