So This Is How It Went ...

I haven’t posted anything of much substance lately. I haven’t even updated you all on the disability evaluation I ranted about the day before I had to be part of it.

I find myself really needing to stay in the moment. THE moment. Even as I type these first few lines I feel my blood pressure changing and my eyes tearing.

I really appreciate all who commented or e-mailed me asking how the evaluation went. I’m sorry for just leaving things hanging in the air, it’s not my style.

I really don’t know how it went.

The people there were very friendly and professional. Some of the tests made no sense to me but then again much of the healthcare system makes no sense to me. A lot of what I was asked to do or asked about appeared to have no direct relation to my medical condition. Even more seemed to be boiler plate.

I came away feeling that I was nothing more than a cog in a very giant wheel. If I fit into the wheel then I’ll roll on with it. If I don’t then the wheel will simply roll right over me.

The evaluation was more than 2 weeks ago. The doctor told me he was not allowed to provide me with a copy of his report to the insurance company but that the insurance company must give me a copy.

I waited a week and then called to ask for a copy. It took 3 calls to find out they don’t have it yet.

Yesterday I received a letter from the insurance company thanking me for attending the evaluation – this corporate word play used to make me laugh; now it makes me want to throttle someone. A 6 page form accompanied my thank you. The form is basically a shorter version of the initial mind numbing packet I filled out months ago. Except now it’s titled ‘Application for Continuance of Disability Benefits’. WTF!?

Several phone calls later I finally understand that they want to know how I feel today. Well, didn’t the evaluation determine that? Perhaps I could be given an 800 number to call – I’ll call every freakin’ day and let them know how I’m doing. Hell I’ll call several times a day …

Hi, it’s Dianne – can’t go to the store today, I can’t straighten up.
Good morning, it’s Dianne – I think the tendons are tearing again, ankle is really swollen.
Just calling to say good night, feel free to call me back – I can’t fucking sleep since my torn muscle is in spasms and burning.

I could go on but this is why I don’t dwell on this.

The rage that consumes me is not healthy or helpful. The throbbing in my head makes thinking even more difficult. The tightness in my chest makes me worry about a stroke – after all without health insurance I’ll sit in a hallway somewhere until everyone has nothing better to do.

I really do understand how people go ballistic.

Thankfully I have many things that tether me to a place of being able to stay in the moment. Hope. The cats. My friends – live and internet. My writing.

I am so grateful for my imagination.

I picture myself traveling to Washington and conducting semen CSI like tests on all Congressmen and lobbyists. I then create a chart of who is blowing and screwing who (whom?) and publish it on Huffington.

I travel from town meeting to town meeting and tea party to tea party. I carry with me a giant magic market so I can correct all their illiterate posters. I carry a giant caldron of boiling water so I can steep their fucking heads and make a nice tea. I even have finger sandwiches. We’re nothing if not civilized here in the grand ole USA.

I take insurance execs to the health clinic near the boardwalk. I hold them there at gun point until at least 10 under nourished children with the flu vomit on them.

And my latest – I take a giant statue of Jesus to yet another “Christian” rally where they’re all wearing shirts proclaiming that ‘God hates fags’ and ‘God hates Jews’ and I just stand there with it. Oh – my Jesus is wearing a T-shirt that says ‘I hate hateful assholes’.

Now that’s a Kodak moment.

And on we go.

Every Single Day Heroes

thanks everyone for the support in the prior post. i got back late and was exhausted. today is not the day to dwell on myself. i will update you all later.

I just spoke to my son. He is at work on the streets of lower Manhattan just as he was on the morning of September 11, 2001. He and his co-workers are doing the job of keeping communication lines running in the midst of a memorial service. Just as they kept vital communications running 8 years ago in the midst of an enormous crisis.

This was my son's "office" - he really works on the streets - in manholes, on rooftops, in sub-basements. He was going to return to this building that morning but decided to go straight home. He had worked the night shift of 9/10/2001 and had taken on some overtime the morning of 9/11. He was relieved at the work site by someone who will never come home again.



My son and the rest of the guys on his crew are very emotional today. From September 12, 2001 well into the summer of 2002 they worked side by side with thousands of others to clear and secure the WTC site.

My son became close with many he worked beside and they were all humbled by the strength and resolve of the First Responders ...





My son calls himself "just a phone guy" - much like the way the rest of the workers called themselves - steel guys, Con Ed guys, trucker guys, military guys, construction guys, machinist guys, welder guys, medical guys ...

This was their "office" for 12 to 16 hours a day, day after day after day ...





7 out of 10 first responders, mostly FDNY, are sick today and require long term care and support.

You can read more about that HERE

There are no clear cut statistics on how many of the recovery workers are sick. There is no single place or agency that supports them.

The average salary of a firefighter is $42,000 a year. They ran into burning, crumbling buildings populated by investment brokers making hundred of thousands a year.

The men and women who worked at Ground Zero are now having their shifts cut, their overtime restricted, their very jobs eliminated.

All the memorials and all the sad songs and all the celebrity benefits will not fix what is broken.

What is broken in this country is respect for workers. Value for people who make things.

I agree that we should never forget those who are gone. Yet the harder job is to never forget those who are here ...

Stress ... and the best Stress Buster.

I am scheduled for an evaluation as part of my disability claim. The disability insurance company has set up an all day "evaluation process" for September 10. They even point out in their letter that this will be at their expense. That made me laugh. I'm supposed to be grateful or relieved that I don't have to pay for it? Blood sucking cretins.

Today is the 1 year anniversary of ...



Little did I know then that Siren would quickly become the only medical attention I could afford.

I could go on now to rant about the state of healthcare but instead I just want to give a bit of advice.

NEVER believe or trust an insurance broker. NEVER. Repeat after me ... NEVER.

And then, even after you grill them about the policy they're selling you, GRILL them some more.

When I started my own buiness I was innundated by offers from insurance cos. The moment I got my business license they came out of the dark like the insects they are. I did my homework. I am very good at research. I chose insurance carriers for life, for the office, for employee healthcare, for my own healthcare, plus all the taxes a small business pays.

And I chose a disability carrier. Why? So I'd never need to rely upon anyone if I got hurt. So that what is now happening would NEVER happen.

My research made me ask what would happen if my working conditions changed. What if my revenue dropped - after all my industry is volatile. I was told I could be covered for that. For an extra charge each month of course. I have been paying that extra charge while being accused of claiming I'm disabled because my business is struggling.

When costs started to kill the small profits I was making and my rent on both the office and my apartment were about to increase I decided to look into buying a house that a>could be converted into a 2 family and b>would allow me to work from home. I asked the insurance vultures if this change in working condition would harm my coverage. No, No, No - my policy was not contingent upon my location or the size of my staff. Now they tell me they don't see why I can't keep working since I work from home. They don't see why I can't maintain revenue even though I don't have staff because I can't afford staff.

I really don't want to talk about how the sharing of the house has worked out. Today is already a hurtful day. I can't believe a year of this crap has gone by.

And yet I am in better shape than many. People die waiting for medical care or lose their homes waiting for insurance claims.

The insurance industry is far too powerful. Far too corrupt. Far too greedy.
They need to be investigated and regulated. I volunteer to serve on the panel.

And now for the happy portion of our program.

Hope has a swing that she enjoys ...



But the swing is inside ...



... and that has been bugging her.

So she went to the park with her Mom ...

Hey, How You Doin' ...

... I loved when Billy Crystal said that during his 'You Look Marvelous' skits on SNL.

And that's about how I'm doin' - I'd really rather know how you're doing cause I'm so freakin' sick of me.

I've been thinking I might be able to sell a reality show of my life - I just can't decide what crappy cable network would be most receptive. We're regular folks, down to earth, so perhaps CMT. But my politics are far too left for the country fans and my taste in music is just too good. For all the crap about how liberal the media is I can't come up with a left like network.

Anyway -- before I get all over the place. The past couple of days have been a pain the ass. My poor yet sweet old car is losing its mind. The wiring in a VW is, at best, the psychotic weaves of a mad engineer; in a 15 year old car it becomes a real problem.

When I start the car the window opens and then won't close. This is always fun when it's raining - and absolute bliss if coupled with the windshield wipers not working.

The alarm won't arm itself - see now I can get behind that - and that would be fine with me if not for the fact that it then feels the need to go off - randomly - I'll be driving along and suddenly the horn will start blaring in a really awful beat and the flashers will flash - off beat of course. It's amazing how your mind can just shut down when sitting in a small confined space with deafening horns blaring.

The only way to stop it is to pull over, get out and lock and unlock the driver door with the key. VW doesn't "believe" in keyless entry. I long ago learned that meant they don't understand keyless entry.

With the help of my son and a neighbor - both good with cars - I think we found the source of the problem. I have managed to make two short trips without the horn going off - I really miss all the middle finger salutes I was getting.

I have decided the car is not reliable enough to tote Hope around in. And I really don't want to spend the rest of my days avoiding highways. Limits a person.

So I have begun the process of looking to use it to trade in for a newer car. I'll let you know about that adventure later.

Meanwhile I need to go see why the sump pump isn't pumping, then I have to figure out what's happening with my desktop - it likes to turn itself off. And my DVR won't fast forward - dear lord I'll have to watch Chris Christie ads!! More about him soon - fat fucking fraud that he is.

I wonder if the Sci-Fi Channel wants a reality show called 'When Bad Machines Attack Good People'

You can stop reading now. We have concluded my actual post. What follows is a post I was going to publish a few days ago - it was to be titled 'Kiss My Ass and Tolerate It' and was inspired by my dealing with big ass corporations who find it "intolerable" that I am having trouble paying my bills. I decided against posting it because I'm trying to stay perky - without the aid of drugs.

But I really do like it - hehehehehehe

So I sneak it in here...

I have discovered a trend. Large corporations, in efforts to stay afloat long enough to pay huge bonuses to half a dozen people at the top, are finding the real world “intolerable”

A collections agent from CitiGroup/CitiCorp/CitiBank – whatever their name is this week – calls me. I look at Caller ID and then decide what the hell.

Me: “Hello”
Collections Dick: “Mrs ---, this is --- from …
Me (interrupting): “Yes I know who you’re calling for”
CD: “We need to discuss your account”
Me: “You can review it if you want but I have already told you what I can pay and when”
CD: “But you do not answer our calls”
Me: “I have nothing new to tell you. And I did answer today, aren’t we talking right now?”
CD: “We need to know that you are committed to resolving this situation”
Me: “I am committed to resolving this situation”
CD: Dead silence
Me: “Anything else?”
CD: “This is an intolerable situation Mrs ---“
Me: “I feel for CitiWhatever, really I do – what with your sudden downturn followed by bailout money and huge profits - but you will just have to tolerate it – have a good night”
I hung up

I am struggling with the mortgage payments. I have been playing catch up and fall behind most of this year. I have filled out “hardship forms” which seem to exist solely in order to give the bank a reason to create a new department; I have answered every question asked of me and I pay all the late fees.

I recently got a letter that used the word “intolerable” 4 times in 2 paragraphs.

It is “intolerable” that I don’t return their calls
It is an “intolerable” situation that my payments are consistently late
They “can not tolerate” this sustained situation – way to change it up!
They are certain that I see the need to resolve this “intolerable” situation – well now they’re redundant again

I’ve been calling various service providers to change plans and cut back services in order to cut expenses.

The lawn guy – Yes!! The lawn guy – tells me my lawn won’t “tolerate” the lack of service
Verizon hopes I understand that my contract with them doesn’t “tolerate” the changes I’m requesting
One of the utility companies informs me that revising my budget plan is “intolerable”
My wireless carrier finds it “intolerable” that the credit card my service is billed to is often declined

So – I have come to the conclusion that the recession/really a depression has become an “intolerable” situation for many, many large multi billion dollar corporations. Even my lawn guy is but a pawn for a giant franchise.

Good Heavens. How they are suffering.

One of my many 2nd or 3rd extra part time jobs over the years was calling parents to renew their subscriptions to a well know children’s publication. We were coached on how to present the terms of the new subscription in as confusing a manner as possible. We were coached on how to make a resistant parent feel guilty for “not spending pennies on your child’s education”.

I was called out many times for clearly stating what the payments would be. I was called out for telling distraught, frustrated parents that it was OK not to renew. Yes – food is more important.

I organized a revolt in the break room. Over 80% of the staff spent an entire weekend telling parents it was OK.
Then I quit and sent a letter to the NY Dept of Consumer Affairs and the NY State Board of Education. I never checked to see what happened – new evils took priority.

If any of you collection dicks – or dickesses – are reading this. Stage a revolt in the break room. OK - maybe you need the job. Then at least accept that you’re a whore for a company that doesn’t care any more about you then it does about me. Find that “intolerable”. Think about how your CEO is most likely sniffing cocaine off his girl friend’s ass while his wife and kids summer in the Hamptons. On our dimes – that are worth a penny. Bonuses are back. They have learned nothing and until they are properly and fairly regulated they never will.

If any of you reading this are being hounded by collections or haunted by debts – buck up and fuck them! Don’t be intimidated. Don’t be made to feel a failure. Don’t panic. That’s what they count on.

If the average working person can tolerate killing themselves to fall behind while trying to keep their home, pay enormous insurance premiums and feed their kids well then …

These bastards can tolerate the real world as well.

There are all these “birthers” and “healthcare town hall meeting disruptors” roaming about hollering their crazy ass heads off while the bulk of us just go about our business.

I keep hoping for a revolution in this country but I keep finding evidence that the wrong people are revolting.

The Post That Started Out as Not a Post

I was going to post about how I didn’t have anything to post – I’ve been trying to write my scintillating tale of Lust for KAY but I’m not in a writing mood.

So I was going to come here just to say I’m back in a photo only (just barely) mood and my words fail me.

But …

I woke up this morning to the sound of saws and loud men. Wow! Must be a party!! No – it is a tree killing spree going on next door. I am so sick of these neighbors. I have tried getting along. All last summer I smiled and said things like – “A new gate would look so pretty against the white fence.” When what I really wanted to say was “Your baby keeps running into the street you incompetent pieces of crap.” Or. “I am so sick of worrying about whether or not your little dog is under my tires as I pull into my driveway.”

Finally they got the gate. Of course they’re so busy texting while scratching their asses that they often forget to latch it properly but really – what can I expect from under developed craniums. Twittering twits – they could work in Congress.

I tried telling myself they’re just a bit overwhelmed. After all it’s not easy having a toddler and a dog. Surely they would settle in and things would be more stable and peaceful again.

So – what do they do? They get another dog. A puppy that will grow, is growing, into a giant dog. And guess what? The giant puppy doesn’t get along with the little old dog. And guess what? The giant puppy needs attention. Shocking. Don’t babies and puppies and old dogs just care for themselves? How “socialist” of these creatures to expect any care and respect from the people who created their circumstances. I’m thinking that in addition to being low class assholes these neighbors are Republicans. Make a mess, have that mess affect everyone around you and then stand there stubbornly and refuse to fix it. Get all dressed up in tuxedos and have galas where you mock the people who are doing more in 6 weeks than you did in 8 years. And don’t forget to worship your new fat pill popping junkie god. What a rush!

Oh back to the tree killers …

Winter is a wonderful buffer time – I didn’t see them much and that made my urge to punch them in the face lessen.

Until this morning… First of all – I had finally fallen asleep. I’ve been sleeping in two or three hour bits these days. And I’ve been sleeping on the sofa - pushing my hips into the sofa back while elevating my swollen leg helps. Thanks to my torn tendons and twisted knee joints my balance and gait are so off center that my back is in an endless state of spasm. I really should do my physical therapy and I really should take some pain killers and I really should go back to therapy – all this chronic pain causes psychological issues. What is it with people who won’t take care of themselves until they wind up in an ER? How irresponsible of them to not practice preventative care.

Oh wait – I don’t have my health insurance any more. Silly me. Expecting affordable health care. After all I just worked all my fucking life and paid all my taxes. I ran a small business and insured my workers. I bought a house I could afford, a house much cheaper than the one the bank told me I could have. I drive a ’95 heap of bolts and haven’t taken a vacation in years. How “socialist” of me. I should have just stolen from friends, neighbors and charities – then I could live in a penthouse and expect to keep my 62 million, after all it’s MINE. Me precious, Me precious – fucking Gollums of Wall Street.

But I digress …

The trees. The sweet wonderful beautiful trees. Living creatures that expect nothing more than some rain and an occasional trim. And for that they give clean air and cool breezes. They shade your baby and dogs. You miserable selfish pieces of low class crap. You came here from a concrete pile of crap claiming you wanted a quieter prettier place to live. And then you create a concrete pile of crap. I hope your lawn burns and that the sun beats down onto your miserable piece of the broken American dream until your AC runs so long and hard that it levitates and lands on your giant empty heads, causing your dull lifeless eyes to pop out of their sockets.

Don’t worry. If your dogs and baby are left fending for themselves I’ll step in. After all I have far more than they do and I can afford to lend a hand ...

I’m not a Republican.