The Path of Our Life…Has Some Potholes

It’s amazing how fast a couple of months can go by. Although I think I have a good excuse this time.
Beloved managed to have a nice gout flare-up, which subsequently mistreated by his doctor (real name: Ladika. My name for her: Ladicunt. I don’t use the term very often and consider it to be really offensive, but she has certainly earned it. She is BEYOND being a bitch.), the flare up turned into a full-blown gout attack. The medications were insufficient. Partnership Healthcare Management considered 9 Colcrys per month sufficient to deal with a flare. The FDA considers 2 pills per day to be the normal maintenance does. Do the math. And the doctor’s oh-so-learned response? “You need to do more exercise” and “I don’t think you have gout. You might have had it once, but I don’t think this is gout.” “You can get an ankle brace and compression stockings.” (Neither of which is covered by MediCal and would have required special  order/special cost.)

Ergo, we spent most of the past two months trying to get this addressed and properly medicated–to the point where I ended up taking my Beloved to the ER, where the doctor gave him precisely the same meds he had requested from Dr. Ladicunt. She was suddenly much more willing to prescribe the necessary meds since the ER doctor made the diagnosis. Did I mention that Beloved has had gout for over 10 years and KNOWS what works for him? Sigh.

We had to reschedule our adventure down to San Francisco until the end of the month to accommodate Beloved’s ankle healing. And it’s an ill wind that blows no good–the wait meant that I got my mobility access scooter in time to take it with us.

IMG_0444And I needed it, as there was no way I could have managed the walking required to get around on the medical campus. Most exciting part of the trip? I got to see AND go across the Golden Gate Bridge, something I’ve dreamt and thought about for years.

GoldenGateHome.JPGIt looks exactly as all the pictures of it show. But this is MY picture and going across it was awesome!

The trip itself was tiring, but I was very glad to get the MRI for my back. Turns out my hand clinic appointment was with a surgeon…so I’ve been referred to the asthma people and at some point in the next 3 months, will have to go back down there.


Nice people, but different than Eureka and we were happy to be back home, after dinner with Jack the Lumberjack.



As you can see, in all of the traveling and caring for beloved, I still managed to find time to express my particular sense of fashion;

I figured that I would blend right in and not really be noticed. Oops! I can’t go out without at least one person making a positive comment–young, old, black, white, male or female. They all like it!

And I’m glad that they do; it makes me happy. (And according to several people close to me, also makes me look younger. Younger is good!)

So…we fought out the gout attack; we survived the trip to San Francisco. Things were looking pretty good–and that should have made us nervous as a signal that Something Bad was in the wings, just waiting for its cue.

And so it was, and in fact, almost the Worst Thing that could have happened. I know that you have heard me complain about my Long Term Disability Insurance (and benefits) and the uncertainty of the “Any Occupation”review. Well, the uncertainty is over. The answer is, “You can work a sedentary job, in fact any one of these three specific jobs: User Support Analyst, Reproduction Order Processor, or Information Clerk. Aside from the fact that I don’t know what these are in real English, they sound suspiciously very similar to what I was doing before–and they all seem to require computer use, which is apparently a no-no, based on the doctor’s notes: “…would be capable of sedentary restrictions and limitations with frequent but not constant grasp and fingering bilaterally due to her reported hand pain.”

Let’s sum up my condition (physical, because mental illness is no excuse to not work. WTF?): I am in constant pain, even with the NARCOTIC I am taking. I’m not supposed to be driving. How, pray tell, do I get to work? I have frequent bouts of “fibro fog”, where my mental acuity is not acute; I have noticeable memory loss. I require a mobility access scooter for distances greater than about 50 feet. I am on a neuropathy pain reliever; the dose is high enough that I am clumsy, tripping or dropping things. I cannot perform my ADLs on anything resembling a schedule; I have to shower and wash my hair when I feel up to it–and that can sometimes be as long as a week. I have chronic fatigue–I take a nap almost every day.

Beloved and I are in the process of adjusting our food and meals because I am not up to the kind of meal preparation I used to do–the kind that was leading to a new career of private chef. No, what we have now is more processed or slightly processed, foods that require a minimum of cooking. Not the best choice but it’s the one that seems to work to get us both fed more than just one meal a day.

Incidentally, I am almost down to typing with two fingers because of the problems I am having. Data entry is NOT even a possible job for me. I used to type almost 100 words per minute. I think I’m doing about 20 wpm now. Just one more thing fibromyalgia has robbed me of.

On the upside of this stupid review and the company not wanting to pay benefits until 2028 if they determined I couldn’t do anything else–I have 180 days to submit my rebuttal, complete with new documentation and affidavits, etc. I am hoping that the MRI shows a back that cannot sit up or stand too long–and if it’s that bad, it will require surgery. Oh boy. Now if I can only get my shit together to write a cohesive, compelling paper.

This is about all I can manage right now. More when I can. Yes, it’s been a bad couple of days. And I’m supposed to be participating in #100happydays. And I am trying to….Sigh. Sigh.

Peace and blessings,


One thought on “The Path of Our Life…Has Some Potholes

  1. I think everything will work out because you do have the documentation. Call a lawyer…they usually don’t charge until you get your disability. Lolly was so happy with the Cochran group.

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