Now lets get to the crack team of people working on our disability cases. Least in the California/Nevada side. So before my first denial, my case was apparently tossed back and forth between an office in my current home state of Nevada, and my birth state of California. This made it difficult to contact them. In fact, even when they kept sending me letters to contact them, they never answered the phone nor returned my calls when I left a message with my claims handler. I kind of wish I was back in that lovely back and forth. At least I wouldn’t be concerned they are gaslighting me.
Throughout this process I am trying to send them blood tests (as this is a blood disease technically, so the proof is in jittery intern needle pricks), pictures showing my swollen hand held up next to my non swollen hand, document after document that they sent me constantly badgering me for my day to day activities of not stressing out about my day to day activities (which eventually lead to a chart explaining my disorder as they clearly were not getting how being allergic to stress is at all an issue in the job market, and how going to college to get a degree for a less stressful job is shockingly counter intuitive), and some other important medical documents. That was a year ago. I found out a couple months ago they never got those documents. Remember that, as this part of the story happened a year or more ago.
Eventually I get notice I need to go to a doctor and a shrink for my physical and medical evaluation. The ones they picked out and asked me to go to, mind you. This is also something you should remember.
As I still couldn’t get a hold of my claims handler at this time and being naive and innocent to the idea they may be actively fucking with me, I brought every bit of proof I wanted them to have and ask them to send it to them. As I imagined the doctors would have a quick, foolproof method of getting in contact with Social security and giving them all these papers. They do this all the time after all.
Now that you are back from the surgical procedures your insurance won’t cover from busting your gut laughing at the poor sweet innocence in that thought, I am sure you will be not at all surprised that, a year later, I found out they never got those files. Remember how I told you to remember those previous bits? Well, sadly we ain’ done with this chapter of the future explanations of why I have an aneurysm, so continue remembering and lump this loonacy in with it. The doctor didn’t even make note of me giving them those files. Not surprising. She did nothing to help her figure out my disability and instead had me do stretches meant for a back problem and limb issues. I wasn’t swelling at that time. I had pictures showing me swollen, showed them to the doc myself. NO mention in the notes though. How strange.
So, after what felt like an eternity I got my first denial letter. Back in october 2016. I almost felt like framing the damned thing, as strangely enough spite seems to be the main thing that keeps me functioning these days. The reason in this denial letter is 1) they didn’t see me having it for longer than a year. As I have had it for 27 years and had it plaguing my life for 11, I think I ruined my eyesight in one eye a little from the frequency it twitched. PRactically heard the click of an ancient movie camera. The second reason was 2) because they didn’t see it affecting my ability to work. Which after a long line of being fired, fucked with, or ignored about my disorder until forced to quit due to pain and danger to my health.. As I was still working with the assumption they had the papers I had all but sent a herd of owls to get to them. I might even be subjected to finding stamps (Of the licking and mailing variety)! Surely the email had sent it to them, but shockingly no.
So I get a lawyer. Correction, I try to. After countless calls that end in a ‘we’re booked up’, ‘we can’t take your case’, and one getting me to stop going to community college (graphic design at the time. I was swollen almost 24/7.. Better than culinary, computer science, and engineering before that! But nah. Clearly fine to work) because “no lawyer would take you as it is considered work’. No one fires me from school. Any job I could actually get? Not as lenient I am afraid. Not to the guy in his twenties who smokes pot, is hyperactive, and has this weird allergy to stress. I am sure EVERYONE fucking believes me when I say that. Can you sense the sarcasm? CAN YOU READ THE AGITATION AND PAST EXPERIENCES IN THE SUBTEXT? Well now you do whether you wanted to or not. Quite stressful really.
Finally someone agrees to help me, even files the appeal for me same day I meet them. You think this is where the triumphant trumpets would play. Nah. Turns out after seeming like he would be helpful, getting me to have my doctors and such fill out paperwork, get more blood tests to prove I STILL have the damned thing, blah blah, all of which were sent to him. (-sigh- Remember that) to send to the main office. Suddenly, I get a call from my claims handler! Losing the bet with myself that it was a cardboard cut out in an office chair with a voice recorder taped behind it, I got a physical being for once.
Turns out they had been trying to contact my ‘lawyer’ for the past few days and they weren’t answering. I tried to call them, still not answering. Weeks go by and we still can’t get ahold of him nor can i get a hold of the tiki god that has apparently cursed my bloodline for dishonoring their totem. Claims handler, in an eye twitchingly HILARIOUS turn of events, is actually answering my calls now. Sadly, my lawyer still isn’t. Minus answering my voicemail complaining about all this with a ‘I’ll get right on it’ voice mail.
Also, this is when i learned they don’t have any of my blood tests, files, or pictures. The ones I have been sending them, been giving to lawyers and doctors they sent me too, is not in their files at all.
As well, in order to fire my lawyer in the case of being unable to get them to pick up your calls, you apparently need to write a handwritten, signed note. Then mail it to them. Which I did, folded over the countless things they should have had ages ago.
Week later? They have those files, nothing about that hand written note that was literally folded around these things. Whatever, clearly they just haven’t processed it. I never found out what happened to this magic letter and then I am left to wait after I ask if there is anything they need, and I go on the hunt for a new lawyer. Turns out, since the previous one didn’t send me a withdrawal letter, lawyers won’t help me! Cause that one might still get my money. Seems like quite the legal issue! If only there were a professional whose career it was to help people when a crooked fucker preys on the disability cases. I’ll tell you when I figure out what the name of that profession is, but to finish up this lawyer tidbit, with a bunch of letters out I still haven’t gotten a response back. I have gotten too mentally exhausted to explain this over and over.
They got a shorter, cliffnotes rant. This one is more cathartic than anything. As well, in the very least if I die from my throat swelling up, brain swelling up, dehydration from gastrointestinal tract swelling up, or something to that effect then the likely cause is at least known to any willing to read me complain.
We are getting to the end, as only a couple more hiccups have caused me headaches. That come to memory. I call my claims handler see where my case is at. While my Dad is trying to help me (which Social Security even asked me why my Dad just can’t support me for the rest of my life. Casual and flat tone too. Pricks.) with my medical costs, giving me a place to live, ect, I don’t like burdening him. I have seen plenty of posts bout a similar plight, so i am sure you can gather.
So I pestered them. My claims handler said my claim had progressed, but she didn’t know to what point and I needed to call the main social security office in my city for more information.. So I really don’t know what that person’s job description is, but she ain’ handling my case well as she implies. SO, I do just that. After waiting 45 minutes through what has my vote as the most obnoxiously repetitive hold system I have ever been put through, I get told that it is in the ‘identification phase’, that they are having trouble verifying something, and that I am not allowed to know what that thing is. I never found out, but they repeated this when i tried to ask more questions, and as I got annoyed that I was apparently not allowed to know about my own claim, I was abruptly hung up on.
Week later, I get my denial letter. Claiming that while my disorder does hinder me, I can and I quote from the letter, “We have determined that you can adjust to other work”. Eventually I am able to get a new lawyer, who I have had for a few months. After being told that it was never in their policy to have a handwritten note sent. (Well fuck, who was phone then?!) and that they had no idea what I was talking about when I mentioned being in the ‘identification phase’ I was able to convince them to help me. They even managed, after much struggle, to get my old lawyer dropped! Sad thing is they haven’t sped matter up. Even after more photos and proof and blood tests. Even as my stomach acid rots my teeth to the point I can hardly eat anything harder than bread or a baked potato without having to fight through pain. Doesn’t sotp me, because I am forced to deal with pain so I might as well agonize my way through something delicious.
I am on year three. I am still waiting. I still get little if any word from SSI or my lawyers without pestering them, and even then it is a stretch. Months tick by, and I am forced to find out that the fairy tale about the government that cares, the sect of it that is made just to help those unable to make it is nothing more than a fantasy. Next to Santa and the Easter Bunny lies Uncle Sam.