Breaking the Rules.

I am about to break my own rules. I have been listening almost obsessively to the Lily Allen Song,”Fuck You.” I couldn’t exactly get around the song title so my rules are broken just this once. The sentiment of the song pleases me greatly. It is a general Fudge Off to whomever you want. It works well for dealing with Medicaid! I had it running during my half an hour of holding trying to get a ride to the doctor.

Oh yes, I am going. I am expecting to have to walk across an entire hospital, and I am terrified but I may also get my legs working by then. The electric chair, how I miss it. That is not something I can focus on right now, however. I am more concerned with the treatment that I receive whenever I call Medicaid. Why am I not a person? In calling for a ride I was of course required to give all of my identifying details to a stranger over the phone. (So comforting… not!) When confirming my address, I was told that I couldn’t be me because I gave a different address. I have moved, but I updated my address immediately with Medicaid, with the Foodstamps office et al.

I convinced her I was me, explaining that it must not have been updated (because my service coordinator via Amerigroup doesn’t do his job and makes me want to commit acts of violence upon his person so he has to deal with himself in an epic paradox). So I give my phone number, which is off as well, but not to the older number I once had but some number… that was the product of a typo. Switched two digits. The woman then yelled at me.

I managed to convince her to make the appointment for a ride and she then said, “You realize that because you have a service animal the company may be able to reject giving you a ride.” What? WHAT? My brain went blank and I nearly lost it. It took a lot of service cat snuggles and deep breaths to not cry. Confirming the appointment was made was just not happening with this person. I played the song once more, and called Medicaid again.

I was calling to make sure my address and number were correct, but when I mentioned why, after the lovely phone center employee mentioned nothing was out of order besides my phone number… the previous person lied, she put me on hold, and she connected with the transport center, and helped me confirm I really do have a ride. i spent the entire time fighting myself on crying again, and was even complimented on calling back. Apparently few ever do until it is much worse.

So after that I decided, if Medicaid is full of a mix of screw ups and nice people who cannot do more than update addresses all day, what else am I not being told? Turns out my transfer to the new agency is COMPLETE. Actually I was supposed to be in a meeting right now with a potential caregiver but, a sick child happened and the agency cancelled. I am not exactly going to complain, though I am at the limit of my fending abilities.

So I am breaking the rules, I am learning that song, and I am going to play it in my head often. It’s another long week, but at least I got to go Trick or Treating. The cats and I somehow only got candy I can eat. It was like a Halloween Miracle… for my tummy.