Case closed

Well, I did it. I visited the health services office in Portland, the one for seniors and the disabled. The case worker to whom I’ve been assigned was a lovely person, compassionate, kind—just the kind of person you hope will do this kind of work (J.R.’s friend, and my original case worker, too, are this way, I might add).

The worker took my application. There are many things more to get and do, but at least it’s started. The very soonest I would be able to get medical help (without being tortured at a hospital first) is several months away. Social security: try two years or so. At best. The poor woman ran over the appointment time by more than an hour because, well, shall we just say “her overwrought client needed more Kleenex than most.” (I tend to go through a box or so whenever I grapple with a tough reality. It will pass.)

I’m just not strong enough to do this now, and I am not pursuing it. Everything I’ve put behind me, rather successfully, I think (and there is so so so so so much of which none of you, not one of you, is aware) is now having to be uncovered. I’m not doing it. I went in; I tried. I succeeded because I tried, right? I did the best I could do at this juncture. It wasn’t pretty.

End of story.

Case closed.

  1 comment for “Case closed

  1. Jules
    July 14, 2010 at 17:00

    I’m very proud of you for going in there and doing it. I know how much you were dreading it, and, yes, you succeeded because you tried. Jumping through hoops for the government’s help has never been one of my favorite pastimes. And by god if I were in your shoes, it certainly would be far from what I wanted to do.

    I would write more, now, but the clock says three minutes to sun time, so I have to wrap it up. I should have started earlier. But, alas.

    Please enjoy your days to their fullest, as we all should. But you, most of all. Thank you for helping my find my library book last night. Amazing. And, thank you for being such an important friend in my life. My beautiful, wonderful days wouldn’t be the same without you. Love you, miss.

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