I walked to the mailbox this afternoon actually expecting it to be empty. Instead, it was full (got a shipment of medication). Underneath the package there were a few pieces of mail. One of which appeared to be a US Treasury check -- addressed to me. I opened it last afraid it would burst my bubble.
But it did not. It was my lump sum back pay for SSDI. My attorney got paid off the top so the remainder (that I got paid) is ours.
Today, relief is spelled V-I-C-T-O-R-Y!
Also, day four of injections went just fine. The teensy Follistim needles are all 'pshaw... is that all you got?" And I got a full extra dose out of the 300 IU cartridge FTW! I'm expecting something similar out of the Gonal-F pens. So I have a little bit left in my Follistim pen which I fully intend on using tomorrow and I'll finish up my dose with a second injection of Gonal-F. Thursday I go for my follicle scan. Hoping to see a minimum of three growing but I'll settle gladly for two, though. Well, to be perfectly honest, I'll be overjoyed with one good egg that results in a real, live take-home-baby!
The Monkey's birthday is coming up. I was having major issues coming up with a cake design that I could actually handle. Most of the things he enjoys would be exceptionally complicated and/or artsy (e.g. a WoW themed cake). So then I got to thinking about the time I was taking one of my many IT courses and The Monkey was helping me understand how to read binary. Then he showed me a binary clock which was exceptionally cool once I got the hang of reading it. I thought about making him a binary clock cake (which would be simple) but then I thought... binary... The Matrix! He's a total Matrix junkie. I can hardly watch The Matrix with him because he knows the dialogue so well. So I'm trying to search for designs that I can scam off of. :P With the back pay safely in our bank account, I fully intend on going out and buying myself the Kitchen Aid standing mixer I've been drooling over for... oh years now. They have it in a very pretty yellow at Bed Bath & Beyond. No more sore elbow for me! Huzzah!
Showing posts with label disability. Show all posts
Showing posts with label disability. Show all posts
Monday, September 13, 2010
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Epic Day!
I went to check the mail this afternoon and there was an envelope from the SSA waiting. I held my breath as I opened it.
At the top of the letter it simply stated Decision: Fully Favorable.
PURE UNADULTERATED RELIEF!!!
No check yet but surely that will come soon. (Fingers crossed anyway.) Also my backpay will go all the way back to May when I stopped working. That's 27 months of backpay. My mind is pretty much in a state of whoa.
This battle is finally won!
At the top of the letter it simply stated Decision: Fully Favorable.
PURE UNADULTERATED RELIEF!!!
No check yet but surely that will come soon. (Fingers crossed anyway.) Also my backpay will go all the way back to May when I stopped working. That's 27 months of backpay. My mind is pretty much in a state of whoa.
This battle is finally won!
Sunday, August 29, 2010
annnnd... we're back!
Maybe I was being paranoid by making my blog private. Maybe not. Probably though. But isn't the fact that I was being paranoid just another symptom of my mental illness? Just food for thought. [cue crickets]
So. My hearing went... well, good. It was pretty cut and dry. I happened to have a headache that day so the volume on the teleconferencing system was a bit piercing; also I was a nervous freaking wreck so that was fun. But, overall, it was a pretty easy process. Once the ALJ and my attorney were finished questioning me the ALJ questioned a vocational expert and their testimony was basically favorable for me. So, barring anything catastrophic, we hope to receive a decision letter in my favor in the next five weeks (one week already down). Two years of waiting are almost over.
In the meantime, things have sort of unravelled. My mom's finances are a bit of a trainwreck. We're helping out as much as possible which means even though I declared bankruptcy and we have almost no bills we are still virtually broke from paycheck to paycheck. (This also has a lot to do with keeping up with mental health appointments and the fact that I drove to the RE twice in the span of a couple of weeks.) Another really unexpected and really large expense was our (well, Mom's) cat, Cupcake. When The Monkey and I first moved in with our three cats Cupcake got pretty stressed out. But she seemed to be dealing okay by spending a good bit of her time outside on the [screened in] patio. But slowly she stopped "asking" to go out. And I had to drag her from underneath one of the sofas to see if she would eat. She lost weight and we assumed that it was okay because she was obese to begin with. (My dad used to overfeed my Mom's cats something awful!) Still, her personality (aside from being a little more antisocial than usual) seemed okay. Until it didn't. She went downhill pretty quickly. I had to hunt for her and find her. We gave her my mom's room as her own but by then it was too late. We rushed her to a local animal hospital where they did a blood panel and an exam and it turned out that she was severely jaundiced (bilirubin was off the charts high) and her platelets were low. The vet mentioned a few different problems the least serious of which was the liver fluke and the most serious of which was cancer. I researched everything (of course) and found out that liver flukes are transmitted by skinks which we find all the time on the patio! She started to improve on the four medications they gave her (one of which was a dewormer for the liver fluke) so we breathed a sigh of relief.
Until about two weeks later when she stopped eating again. (Not that she'd really started eating much to begin with.)
She wasn't as visibly yellow as she had been before but she had a "tint" to her that looked unhealthy. Plus her gums were pale and tacky and she just looked and acted really miserable. (We're talking about a very loveable cat. Even when she was on death's doorstep with the jaundice she was still purring and loving on us.) I did more research and found out Hepatic Lipodosis (Fatty Liver Disease) is one of THE most common causes of liver failure in cats. Risk factors -- cats that were obese and lose weight rapidly along with their appetite. Cupcake fit the bill perfectly. When we took her back to the same vet (despite my request to get a second opinion) they kept her overnight. They said she was just dehydrated. All of her blood panels came back improved (but she's still showing signs of liver damage). So they gave her IV fluids and IV meds and then sent us home with l/d prescription diet and told us if she wasn't eating on her own by Saturday that we'd need to get a referral to a vet that's FOUR HOURS away for an ultrasound.
'Scuse me?
So, I'm a bit irritated. Because they rattled off these diagnoses of extremely uncommon disorders (something autoimmune) before checking for something VERY common? Something that the patient was clearly at risk for seeing as how she literally lost HALF of her body weight in less than two months??
I am pissed. Right now our vet bill is up to $1,000. It's not the money that matters it's the caliber of treatment. Treating FLD is actually pretty simple when caught early. It consists of intense nutritional support. But because kitties with this condition don't have an appetite, it becomes necessary to either a) force feed them via syringe or b) have a feeding tube inserted. Option b) is usually preferred because, believe it or not, it is LESS STRESSFUL on the cat. The vet said she was eating the morning before we brought her home. I got her home and she refused food of any kind. She refused TUNA!! I got her to eat a tiny, tiny bit of pumpkin mash mixed with chicken broth but not enough to brag about. So I have been forced to force feed her with a syringe which really pisses her off. (At least she comes out of hiding and snuggles with my mom at bed time.)
Tomorrow my plan is to call several other vets in the area for second, third, fourth, fifth opinions. I'm pissed that our vet decided against a feeding tube because now we're going to have to fork out MORE money for that as I'm at least 80% sure that a feeding tube is going to be what gets our Cupcake back to her old self.
It would be super great to have my SSDI kick in sooner rather than later. When it does, all of the cats are getting check ups! And we might have to look into some sort of pet insurance, too.
So. My hearing went... well, good. It was pretty cut and dry. I happened to have a headache that day so the volume on the teleconferencing system was a bit piercing; also I was a nervous freaking wreck so that was fun. But, overall, it was a pretty easy process. Once the ALJ and my attorney were finished questioning me the ALJ questioned a vocational expert and their testimony was basically favorable for me. So, barring anything catastrophic, we hope to receive a decision letter in my favor in the next five weeks (one week already down). Two years of waiting are almost over.
In the meantime, things have sort of unravelled. My mom's finances are a bit of a trainwreck. We're helping out as much as possible which means even though I declared bankruptcy and we have almost no bills we are still virtually broke from paycheck to paycheck. (This also has a lot to do with keeping up with mental health appointments and the fact that I drove to the RE twice in the span of a couple of weeks.) Another really unexpected and really large expense was our (well, Mom's) cat, Cupcake. When The Monkey and I first moved in with our three cats Cupcake got pretty stressed out. But she seemed to be dealing okay by spending a good bit of her time outside on the [screened in] patio. But slowly she stopped "asking" to go out. And I had to drag her from underneath one of the sofas to see if she would eat. She lost weight and we assumed that it was okay because she was obese to begin with. (My dad used to overfeed my Mom's cats something awful!) Still, her personality (aside from being a little more antisocial than usual) seemed okay. Until it didn't. She went downhill pretty quickly. I had to hunt for her and find her. We gave her my mom's room as her own but by then it was too late. We rushed her to a local animal hospital where they did a blood panel and an exam and it turned out that she was severely jaundiced (bilirubin was off the charts high) and her platelets were low. The vet mentioned a few different problems the least serious of which was the liver fluke and the most serious of which was cancer. I researched everything (of course) and found out that liver flukes are transmitted by skinks which we find all the time on the patio! She started to improve on the four medications they gave her (one of which was a dewormer for the liver fluke) so we breathed a sigh of relief.
Until about two weeks later when she stopped eating again. (Not that she'd really started eating much to begin with.)
She wasn't as visibly yellow as she had been before but she had a "tint" to her that looked unhealthy. Plus her gums were pale and tacky and she just looked and acted really miserable. (We're talking about a very loveable cat. Even when she was on death's doorstep with the jaundice she was still purring and loving on us.) I did more research and found out Hepatic Lipodosis (Fatty Liver Disease) is one of THE most common causes of liver failure in cats. Risk factors -- cats that were obese and lose weight rapidly along with their appetite. Cupcake fit the bill perfectly. When we took her back to the same vet (despite my request to get a second opinion) they kept her overnight. They said she was just dehydrated. All of her blood panels came back improved (but she's still showing signs of liver damage). So they gave her IV fluids and IV meds and then sent us home with l/d prescription diet and told us if she wasn't eating on her own by Saturday that we'd need to get a referral to a vet that's FOUR HOURS away for an ultrasound.
'Scuse me?
So, I'm a bit irritated. Because they rattled off these diagnoses of extremely uncommon disorders (something autoimmune) before checking for something VERY common? Something that the patient was clearly at risk for seeing as how she literally lost HALF of her body weight in less than two months??
I am pissed. Right now our vet bill is up to $1,000. It's not the money that matters it's the caliber of treatment. Treating FLD is actually pretty simple when caught early. It consists of intense nutritional support. But because kitties with this condition don't have an appetite, it becomes necessary to either a) force feed them via syringe or b) have a feeding tube inserted. Option b) is usually preferred because, believe it or not, it is LESS STRESSFUL on the cat. The vet said she was eating the morning before we brought her home. I got her home and she refused food of any kind. She refused TUNA!! I got her to eat a tiny, tiny bit of pumpkin mash mixed with chicken broth but not enough to brag about. So I have been forced to force feed her with a syringe which really pisses her off. (At least she comes out of hiding and snuggles with my mom at bed time.)
Tomorrow my plan is to call several other vets in the area for second, third, fourth, fifth opinions. I'm pissed that our vet decided against a feeding tube because now we're going to have to fork out MORE money for that as I'm at least 80% sure that a feeding tube is going to be what gets our Cupcake back to her old self.
It would be super great to have my SSDI kick in sooner rather than later. When it does, all of the cats are getting check ups! And we might have to look into some sort of pet insurance, too.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
come on the rising wind*
Our financial stress has gone from about a nine to a two since filing bankruptcy. I'm not happy that I had to do it and I'm certainly not proud but I don't regret it. We have quite a bit coming up. The Monkey went to see a urologist regarding his low testosterone level and he immediately handed him a prescription for testosterone injections. Thankfully I'd done my research and learned that synthetic testosterone injections shut down sperm production and even after asking about an alternate treatment (Clomid, hCG) the urologist insisted that testosterone was the only way to go and that it wouldn't affect our TTC endeavors. Really? Well, we definitely won't be going back to see him that's for sure. I called our RE and they got us in on the 27th of July. I'll be getting my annual exam and bloodwork and all of that fun stuff. The Monkey will be getting some routine bloodwork as well along with a repeat semen analysis done. Sixteen more days to go. Why does it always seem like an eternity?
The first week in August I have to be in court for my bankruptcy hearing. I'm not really concerned about it because, as I said, I don't regret the decision. And The Monkey will be there with me and he's been through this before and assured me there's nothing to be worried about. Then, towards the end of August, I have to be in court again for my SSD hearing. Now that I am nervous about. I don't really know what to expect. I can walk. I can talk. I'm intelligent (or so I'm told). So, yeah, I'm worried. I'm worried the ALJ is going to look at me and snort and then send me packing. The Monkey says we'll appeal again if that happens. I really hope it doesn't.
That's the thing about mental illness. It's not exactly tangible. With a physical disability it's easy for someone to see that something is wrong (although, not in all cases). And although that doesn't necessarily make it easier to get approved for SSD (that's not what I'm saying) it is one less thing you have working against you. And you rarely find people frowning upon those with physical disabilities. I'm not looking for pity (I don't think anyone with a disability is) but it would be nice to get a little understanding. Understanding that I don't want this. I don't. It sucks. To go from one day to the next never knowing what your mood is going to be like. To find yourself curled up in bed, under the covers in a pool of tears and completely unable to explain to your husband why you're depressed. Don't get me started on the guilt that you feel when you watch your 58 year old mother drag herself to work day in and day out while you sit at home on your butt all day. (For the record, that is my insecurities talking. I don't sit on my butt all day. Depressive episodes are harder to manage because I do get very little accomplished. On good days, I keep up with house work, I cook, I tend to the animals, etc.)
I can't think straight.
The first week in August I have to be in court for my bankruptcy hearing. I'm not really concerned about it because, as I said, I don't regret the decision. And The Monkey will be there with me and he's been through this before and assured me there's nothing to be worried about. Then, towards the end of August, I have to be in court again for my SSD hearing. Now that I am nervous about. I don't really know what to expect. I can walk. I can talk. I'm intelligent (or so I'm told). So, yeah, I'm worried. I'm worried the ALJ is going to look at me and snort and then send me packing. The Monkey says we'll appeal again if that happens. I really hope it doesn't.
That's the thing about mental illness. It's not exactly tangible. With a physical disability it's easy for someone to see that something is wrong (although, not in all cases). And although that doesn't necessarily make it easier to get approved for SSD (that's not what I'm saying) it is one less thing you have working against you. And you rarely find people frowning upon those with physical disabilities. I'm not looking for pity (I don't think anyone with a disability is) but it would be nice to get a little understanding. Understanding that I don't want this. I don't. It sucks. To go from one day to the next never knowing what your mood is going to be like. To find yourself curled up in bed, under the covers in a pool of tears and completely unable to explain to your husband why you're depressed. Don't get me started on the guilt that you feel when you watch your 58 year old mother drag herself to work day in and day out while you sit at home on your butt all day. (For the record, that is my insecurities talking. I don't sit on my butt all day. Depressive episodes are harder to manage because I do get very little accomplished. On good days, I keep up with house work, I cook, I tend to the animals, etc.)
I can't think straight.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Lissa and the Terrible, No Good, Very Bad Day
My day started off with my usual three mile walk. As per the norm, I clipped my [brand new] cell phone to the inside of my hoodie pocket. Somehow, someway, I managed to knock it out and it went clattering onto the asphalt. While the new faceplate did take the brunt of the fall, my poor [brand new] Voyager is already scratched.
Damnit.
I got over that fairly quickly only to have the dumb ass working the Arby's drive-thru hand me a bag that was too small for the food I ordered out the drive-thru window, ripping the bag in the process. I would have asked nicely for a new bag but I was already late picking up The Monkey for lunch so I said screw it. Long story short, all but a third of The Monkey's curly fries wound up on the floor board. Then, when I was attempting to clean up the mess my Diet Dr. Pepper sprung open covering my console and my entire right side in the thankfully un-sticky mess. Come to find out the lid that the dumb ass working the drive-thru gave me was cracked and popped loose when I leaned over to clean up the fries.
Mother f*ckers!
I was grouchy all through lunch. Poor Monkey. I managed to get my anger in check with a nice, long, scalding hot shower. Nothing like near-burning your skin to bring about a nice 'warm fuzziness'. (Now I remmeber why I always used to self injure the worst when I was angry -- there's just something about physical pain that dissolves all the emotional GUNK away.) So, in a slightly better mood, I started on my makeup. I was almost finished and went to sit on the bed to put my socks on when I noticed Jasmine lounging peacefully. I pet her on the head and she looked up at me lazily and started purring. Then she got up and stretched then plopped precariously onto her back revealing a nice hole in her tummy. It wasn't bleeding so I contemplated going to Walgreens and picking up some butterfly stitches to hold the skin together and wrapping her in an ACE bandage. In the mean time, I decided the best course of action would be to put her in the kennel and call the vet that did her surgery. Which I did and I tried futilely for a half hour. As it was already dangerously close to 5:00 PM I went ahead and called a local vet instead. They said to bring her in.
Half an hour later (after the poor kitty was poked and prodded and weighed and violated with the butt thermometer) they determined that she needed to be resutured and to do so they had to anesthize her again. I walked out with a semi-healthy cat, $160 poorer. Needless to say, I was not happy. This time around they put a lampshade collar on her to keep her from chewing out these sutures. She has to wear it for a week. I am so pissed that the vet didn't do this initially but the girl said it's really not a standard practice for cats. I didn't have this problem with Olivia or William when they got fixed and declawed so this was really unexpected. Thank heavens the vet accepts Care Credit although now we went from having $0 balances on all but one of our credit cards to only having a $0 balance on one. I'm waiting for something to happen to one of my or The Monkey's tires. Then we'll have a $0 balance on none.
She looks pretty pissed, huh?
Poor kitty!
I am very irritated with this whole situation and having to pay $160 that we really do not have. My sister has been talking about the electric and water bills a lot more lately and I feel like she's hinting around wanting us to chip in. I feel like shit that we really don't have the extra cash to chip in. I thought about giving her some money when we get our tax return but The Monkey STILL hasn't gotten his W2 yet. ARRRGH! Depending on how much we get back, I'd like to throw at least $300 my sister's way. I know it's really not much but there's not much else we can do. We're going to need that money to fall back on for other things. Like groceries. I do not like living like this. I do not want to live like this. I do not want to be sitting at my computer wearing gloves with a blanket draped over me just to keep from freezing. I do not like feeling USELESS and WORTHLESS and POINTLESS all. the. freaking. time. I am tired of the mood swings. I am already sick and tired of the meds and how the Lithium makes my stomach feel like it is in a perpetual knot and I hate that even the micro-dose of Zyprexa has me sleeping 12 hours against my will. (I won't even go in on the food cravings and how my weight is not BUDGING even though I am doing my best to eat less, drink more water, and exercise daily.)
On my to-do list this week:
On top of everything else, I caught my niece's cold. So now I'm stuffy, sneezy, achey, blah blah blah...
Now I am going to get off of this thing so The Monkey can play WarCrack for a little while and I'm going to attempt to give myself carpel tunnel from playing Guitar Hero on Hyperspeed.
Damnit.
I got over that fairly quickly only to have the dumb ass working the Arby's drive-thru hand me a bag that was too small for the food I ordered out the drive-thru window, ripping the bag in the process. I would have asked nicely for a new bag but I was already late picking up The Monkey for lunch so I said screw it. Long story short, all but a third of The Monkey's curly fries wound up on the floor board. Then, when I was attempting to clean up the mess my Diet Dr. Pepper sprung open covering my console and my entire right side in the thankfully un-sticky mess. Come to find out the lid that the dumb ass working the drive-thru gave me was cracked and popped loose when I leaned over to clean up the fries.
Mother f*ckers!
I was grouchy all through lunch. Poor Monkey. I managed to get my anger in check with a nice, long, scalding hot shower. Nothing like near-burning your skin to bring about a nice 'warm fuzziness'. (Now I remmeber why I always used to self injure the worst when I was angry -- there's just something about physical pain that dissolves all the emotional GUNK away.) So, in a slightly better mood, I started on my makeup. I was almost finished and went to sit on the bed to put my socks on when I noticed Jasmine lounging peacefully. I pet her on the head and she looked up at me lazily and started purring. Then she got up and stretched then plopped precariously onto her back revealing a nice hole in her tummy. It wasn't bleeding so I contemplated going to Walgreens and picking up some butterfly stitches to hold the skin together and wrapping her in an ACE bandage. In the mean time, I decided the best course of action would be to put her in the kennel and call the vet that did her surgery. Which I did and I tried futilely for a half hour. As it was already dangerously close to 5:00 PM I went ahead and called a local vet instead. They said to bring her in.
Half an hour later (after the poor kitty was poked and prodded and weighed and violated with the butt thermometer) they determined that she needed to be resutured and to do so they had to anesthize her again. I walked out with a semi-healthy cat, $160 poorer. Needless to say, I was not happy. This time around they put a lampshade collar on her to keep her from chewing out these sutures. She has to wear it for a week. I am so pissed that the vet didn't do this initially but the girl said it's really not a standard practice for cats. I didn't have this problem with Olivia or William when they got fixed and declawed so this was really unexpected. Thank heavens the vet accepts Care Credit although now we went from having $0 balances on all but one of our credit cards to only having a $0 balance on one. I'm waiting for something to happen to one of my or The Monkey's tires. Then we'll have a $0 balance on none.
She looks pretty pissed, huh?
Poor kitty!
I am very irritated with this whole situation and having to pay $160 that we really do not have. My sister has been talking about the electric and water bills a lot more lately and I feel like she's hinting around wanting us to chip in. I feel like shit that we really don't have the extra cash to chip in. I thought about giving her some money when we get our tax return but The Monkey STILL hasn't gotten his W2 yet. ARRRGH! Depending on how much we get back, I'd like to throw at least $300 my sister's way. I know it's really not much but there's not much else we can do. We're going to need that money to fall back on for other things. Like groceries. I do not like living like this. I do not want to live like this. I do not want to be sitting at my computer wearing gloves with a blanket draped over me just to keep from freezing. I do not like feeling USELESS and WORTHLESS and POINTLESS all. the. freaking. time. I am tired of the mood swings. I am already sick and tired of the meds and how the Lithium makes my stomach feel like it is in a perpetual knot and I hate that even the micro-dose of Zyprexa has me sleeping 12 hours against my will. (I won't even go in on the food cravings and how my weight is not BUDGING even though I am doing my best to eat less, drink more water, and exercise daily.)
On my to-do list this week:
- Start looking into getting paid to blog. Since I do it almost daily anyway, why not try to make some extra cash?? Even an extra $100 a month would be a huge help at this point.
- Find out whether or not we qualify for any other assistance while we're waiting for my SSD appeal.
- Call my school and see about getting them to credit back the finance charges they tacked onto my bill. (I owe them around $200, they charged me finance charges for for the $6,000+ that was on my account for two months because my student loans too almost the entire semester to post to my account. I am NOT paying interest on $6,000+ dollars!!)
- See what I can do about registering for next semester -- hopefully my FINAL semester.
- Try to think of good reasons to keep on living.
On top of everything else, I caught my niece's cold. So now I'm stuffy, sneezy, achey, blah blah blah...
Now I am going to get off of this thing so The Monkey can play WarCrack for a little while and I'm going to attempt to give myself carpel tunnel from playing Guitar Hero on Hyperspeed.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
16 months you say?
So I am really, truly hoping that my attorney can get help me build a strong enough case for the SSA to get it approved quicker than the current average wait time. Right now, for this area, the wait for a hearing is approximately 16 months. We'd have to live with my sister and BIL for another year, minimum. I say another year because in a year's time both of our cars will be paid off and we may be able to swing living on our own without two car payments to worry about. Most of our other bills are pretty insignificant amounts.
16 months. Our government really sucks.
There is some good news about the wait time, though. The back-pay award will be massive. My monthly award is $957. Multiply that by the 24-ish months it'll take to get approved. That's roughly $23,000 in back-pay. I'm trying to imagine having that much money at my disposal. Of course, we'll owe the attorney $5,300 of that. So, okay, about $18,000 at my disposal. We could pay off every bill we have and still have a big pile of money to roll around in. We could think about buying a house and actually have money for closing costs and everything else. We could pay for a round of IVF out of our pockets if we really wanted to. (Though I seriously doubt I'll want to.) Of course, I'm hoping that we can play the 'dire need' card and get my hearing date moved up. Or, even better, get an 'on the record' review which would get my case approved immediately. The judge cannot disapprove my claim by doing an on the record review. S/he can only either approve it or decide that I need to go through a hearing. Seems like a win/win to me. The 'dire need' thing just trips me out. The representative that helped me with all the paperwork and will be filing my appeal said we should wait on the dire need letter when our situation becomes more desperate.
I'm sorry, but I don't really see how my situation could be more desperate short of losing my cards, destroying my credit, and being homeless. My sister and BIL are footing the bill for housing me. They are forking out about $150 extra a month for the extra electric and water that The Monkey and I are using. Now this isn't to say that we don't help out in other ways. We do help out with the kids whenever asked. And we frequently offer to help when not asked. I buy laundry soap regularly even though a bottle of soap would last The Monkey and me six months or better. My sister hasn't bought toilet paper since we moved in (and four adults and three kids go through a LOT of toilet paper). Even still, it doesn't seem like enough. And really, just because we have somewhere to live doesn't mean that it's going to stay that way. My BIL is in the Army, after all, and he is currently on orders to go to Fort Bliss in July of this year. At which time we very well could become homeless in the strictest sense of the term. We have very little assets. We own a couch and a bed, a computer that's pretty dated (though still functional), a TV from the mid-90s that's probably not worth much. Other than that, we own a front loading washer and dryer set. Our cars aren't paid for yet and, therefore, cannot be called assets. I just feel that being a couple of 35 and 28 that we should be able to support ourselves and the fact that we can't just, in my opinion, screams dire need.
But what do I know.
At any rate, I'm hoping that we survive this whole convoluted process and come out successful and not in financial ruin on the other side.
The fact that I do, actually, feel better since I've stopped working is both a blessing and a curse. Just because I look functional on the surface does not mean that if I went out and tried to get a job that I wouldn't lose it again. I'd be like a bomb with a lit fuse. There would be no telling how long I could handle the stress of working a normal job before I'd have a meltdown. Which is why I applied for disability in the first place. Why stay in a perpetual cycle of 'get hired, get fired' if I can maintain a happier and healthier existance by not working? It makes more sense to me, anyway.
Tomorrow we are going out to visit The Monkey's brother and niece. His niece's birthday is Saturday but her dad won't have her that weekend so we're going to go out and give her the gift that was intended to be her Christmas gift. :P Then, hopefully, we'll come home to sing happy birthday and have cake with Madison. My sister is finally getting around to baking her first birthday cake. :P She had an ear infection on her birthday so my sister put off baking her a cake. Then the holidays rolled around and everyone just got so gosh-darn busy that she put it on the back burner. My sister felt horrendously guilty so she went out and bought a heart-shaped cake pan and pink frosting and 'happy birthday' candles and a cute little outfit that says 'Birthday Girl' on the front for Madison to wear.
Now it is time for me to take my 3.5 mg piece of a 15 mg Zyprexa pill so I can get some sleep. The 3.5 mg seems to be just enough to knock me out for about 10 hours. I can't imagine how badly the entire 15 mg would wipe me out. Then again, I can, because 100 mg of Seroquel (a low dose by all standards) used to turn me into nothing short of a semi-functional zombie.
I really need to increase my dose of Lithium from the 300 mg I've been taking to the 900 mg I'm supposed to be taking. I just can't even begin to say how much I hate the stuff. But, hey, maybe if I start getting all of the nasty side effects that I've had in the past my SSD case will be more compelling. 'See, Your Honor, I'm a good little girl and I take my medication and it makes me a lot less crazy but now my hands shake so badly that I can't even drink a cup of hot coffee with one hand!' Or something.
16 months. Our government really sucks.
There is some good news about the wait time, though. The back-pay award will be massive. My monthly award is $957. Multiply that by the 24-ish months it'll take to get approved. That's roughly $23,000 in back-pay. I'm trying to imagine having that much money at my disposal. Of course, we'll owe the attorney $5,300 of that. So, okay, about $18,000 at my disposal. We could pay off every bill we have and still have a big pile of money to roll around in. We could think about buying a house and actually have money for closing costs and everything else. We could pay for a round of IVF out of our pockets if we really wanted to. (Though I seriously doubt I'll want to.) Of course, I'm hoping that we can play the 'dire need' card and get my hearing date moved up. Or, even better, get an 'on the record' review which would get my case approved immediately. The judge cannot disapprove my claim by doing an on the record review. S/he can only either approve it or decide that I need to go through a hearing. Seems like a win/win to me. The 'dire need' thing just trips me out. The representative that helped me with all the paperwork and will be filing my appeal said we should wait on the dire need letter when our situation becomes more desperate.
I'm sorry, but I don't really see how my situation could be more desperate short of losing my cards, destroying my credit, and being homeless. My sister and BIL are footing the bill for housing me. They are forking out about $150 extra a month for the extra electric and water that The Monkey and I are using. Now this isn't to say that we don't help out in other ways. We do help out with the kids whenever asked. And we frequently offer to help when not asked. I buy laundry soap regularly even though a bottle of soap would last The Monkey and me six months or better. My sister hasn't bought toilet paper since we moved in (and four adults and three kids go through a LOT of toilet paper). Even still, it doesn't seem like enough. And really, just because we have somewhere to live doesn't mean that it's going to stay that way. My BIL is in the Army, after all, and he is currently on orders to go to Fort Bliss in July of this year. At which time we very well could become homeless in the strictest sense of the term. We have very little assets. We own a couch and a bed, a computer that's pretty dated (though still functional), a TV from the mid-90s that's probably not worth much. Other than that, we own a front loading washer and dryer set. Our cars aren't paid for yet and, therefore, cannot be called assets. I just feel that being a couple of 35 and 28 that we should be able to support ourselves and the fact that we can't just, in my opinion, screams dire need.
But what do I know.
At any rate, I'm hoping that we survive this whole convoluted process and come out successful and not in financial ruin on the other side.
The fact that I do, actually, feel better since I've stopped working is both a blessing and a curse. Just because I look functional on the surface does not mean that if I went out and tried to get a job that I wouldn't lose it again. I'd be like a bomb with a lit fuse. There would be no telling how long I could handle the stress of working a normal job before I'd have a meltdown. Which is why I applied for disability in the first place. Why stay in a perpetual cycle of 'get hired, get fired' if I can maintain a happier and healthier existance by not working? It makes more sense to me, anyway.
Tomorrow we are going out to visit The Monkey's brother and niece. His niece's birthday is Saturday but her dad won't have her that weekend so we're going to go out and give her the gift that was intended to be her Christmas gift. :P Then, hopefully, we'll come home to sing happy birthday and have cake with Madison. My sister is finally getting around to baking her first birthday cake. :P She had an ear infection on her birthday so my sister put off baking her a cake. Then the holidays rolled around and everyone just got so gosh-darn busy that she put it on the back burner. My sister felt horrendously guilty so she went out and bought a heart-shaped cake pan and pink frosting and 'happy birthday' candles and a cute little outfit that says 'Birthday Girl' on the front for Madison to wear.
Now it is time for me to take my 3.5 mg piece of a 15 mg Zyprexa pill so I can get some sleep. The 3.5 mg seems to be just enough to knock me out for about 10 hours. I can't imagine how badly the entire 15 mg would wipe me out. Then again, I can, because 100 mg of Seroquel (a low dose by all standards) used to turn me into nothing short of a semi-functional zombie.
I really need to increase my dose of Lithium from the 300 mg I've been taking to the 900 mg I'm supposed to be taking. I just can't even begin to say how much I hate the stuff. But, hey, maybe if I start getting all of the nasty side effects that I've had in the past my SSD case will be more compelling. 'See, Your Honor, I'm a good little girl and I take my medication and it makes me a lot less crazy but now my hands shake so badly that I can't even drink a cup of hot coffee with one hand!' Or something.
Monday, January 19, 2009
and now the "war" begins
I got my letter from the SSA today. As expected, my disability claim has been denied. Today I will spend the rest of my afternoon searching for the perfect disability attorney. I'm going to fight the decision, obviously, though I can't say that I'm looking forward to it.
The appeals process is, apparently, very lengthy. Everywhere I've searched online says an average of 6 - 12 months before a hearing date is even set. I love how our government puts people in need out and gives handouts to people that, say, can't figure out how to use a condom and need welfare to support their seven children.
There is but one thing I can do to potentially speed up the appeals process and that is write (or have my attorney write) a letter of dire need. According to disabilitysecrets.com dire need involves financial difficulty (unable to pay rent/mortgage, utilities, and the like) -- things of that nature. I am not sure how "dire" they will see our situation. Does living in a garage (and potentially becoming homeless if the folks who own said garage PCS in six months) sound dire enough to you??
Did I mention our government SUCKS big, fat, hairy donkey balls?!?
The appeals process is, apparently, very lengthy. Everywhere I've searched online says an average of 6 - 12 months before a hearing date is even set. I love how our government puts people in need out and gives handouts to people that, say, can't figure out how to use a condom and need welfare to support their seven children.
There is but one thing I can do to potentially speed up the appeals process and that is write (or have my attorney write) a letter of dire need. According to disabilitysecrets.com dire need involves financial difficulty (unable to pay rent/mortgage, utilities, and the like) -- things of that nature. I am not sure how "dire" they will see our situation. Does living in a garage (and potentially becoming homeless if the folks who own said garage PCS in six months) sound dire enough to you??
Did I mention our government SUCKS big, fat, hairy donkey balls?!?
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