Even during a national emergency, in a global pandemic and I, for one, find a funny comfort in that. Albeit, that funny comfort pertains to a demoralizing and frustratingly humiliating appointment, that is, simply, par for the course when applying for SSDI or SSI.
Seeing a Social Security Administration doctor
A little while ago, Wolf’s phone rings with a number he does not recognize. He answers. (A rarity of its own!) The caller introduces herself and concludes with “…to schedule an appointment.”
I know EXACTLY what this call is about.
Wolf makes the appointment. He listens. Questions? Not many. Details you need? A few. (I am jotting notes and putting the appointment in the book.) Suddenly, I can sense where this call may go South, FAST! I hear the words, “This is an in-person appointment?”
“Yes. We follow all COVID protocols including limiting the amount of people in the office. Masks on at all times.” Slightly detectable in her voice is a drone (speech repeated multiple times a day, week after week, etc. type of drone yet attuned to the subtle question. I jump in, not to play hero, only to save them both aggravation with,
“May I speak to her, please?”
“Yeah, can you talk to my girlfriend who helps me with these things?”
“Sure”
“Hi, my name is Rusty. [I spell it out also.]” By the time we finish I have confirmed the information needed, which I have been through twice for my own case. Further, I have confirmed I am able to go into the lobby to help him check in but, of course!, not going into the evaluations with him.
Did I mention there were two appointments and a packet of paperwork brought up by her prior to me commandeering this call?
Good news! The only thing that seems not to have been impacted except for masks and limiting normally over packed waiting rooms is the monotonous checklist of having to endure an evaluation, by a complete stranger to help you have to fight, even harder, to gain a label of “disabled.”
Bad news: Wolf started losing his shit, verbally, after I explained what this is and will be as plainly as I can. Off he went.
Okay, granted I cannot imagine having to endure this for two appointments – physical and mental health. Surely, being neglected and having your primary disorder (ADHD) be pranced and prodded in ways, if it had happened forty years ago (which it should have), there would likely be no homelessness to speak of now, for Wolf, at least, is not what I can relate to.
Still laughing, I simply say, “Be you.” Jaw drops, briefly. We both know his most troubling symptoms, his history of childhood, neglect and authority issues.
So, yeah, I put a stop to it already. Firmly, with a hopefully undertone of loving also, I, thee declared:
“I cannot listen to this shit for a month.”
Response: “Got it” with the snicker and eyebrow raised, slightly, I deserved. Just sayin’…
Great news!
I am preemptively ensuring this post was written and shared the same day. Because? Hopefully Wolf will use his support and vent/complain to her more than me.
However, I also need her to know what the right thing he is referring to. No need for unnecessary misinterpretation. Again, I’m just sayin’…
On a different note, I actually do find an odd solace in knowing our governments red tape ridiculousness and costly wastefulness, in proving a person’s limitations and hindrances by a complete and utter stranger, in PERSON, for, maybe, an hour, still churns as the crooked wheel, ahem, system, it is. And yes, the caller and I found a small laugh in that.
I really need to secure housing soon. Aye.
Be well, Reader!
Thank you for following, reading and liking! -Rusty
Rusty & Wolf 2019 