“You do realize that if you knowingly provide false statements during this interview, we will throw you in jail?” ~Social Security worker to me, August 4, 2008
Building on a promise to myself, and promises to others, I am taking care of many things. Doctors have shown me the door thjat holds that promise of a lifetime of experiments, and examinations. Let us take some more blood, and while we are at it, we can take another scan. I am okay with this. I am not soi terribly7 frustrated. I have received an order to get an MRI done. I have to renew my CMSP coverage, and have to go to another facility.
So, following my own thjoughts, I have finally applied for Social Security. They have interviewed me for my case, and will speak to my doctors and my employers to see if they will approve me for my disability claim. I have felt irritated at being brought to this point. In my vision, I would rise above anything, and keep making money despite risks to my health and well-being.
I went to San Jose last week. It is where I grew up. I hopped on a train, and rode from Redding, to San Jose, and spent a few days in the presence of my family and friends. In a meeting at a church in San Jose, I found myself surrounded by friends, many who have not seen me in over two years. One of them asked, “When did you last call me, when youy and your girlfriend broke up?” (December 2007). Actually I did call him more recently than that, but top acknowledge it would have lessened the impact of his message...
In this he asked several of the men around me, “So, has anyone else here known anything about Keith's walking problems?” So much for a happy reunion. This was beginning to feel like an inquisition or an intervention. Of the people being updated on my life, the few left out were those who had been closest to me. In my family, I have received much advice. I have taken counsel on getting treatment, and on managing my money.
I have ignored serious changes in my fitness to do my work. I have ignored the factg that being in a very physical job, my performance has suffered, and my hours of work have been cut as a result. This is just a journal. I do not think this entry will feel terribly inspirtational.
Still, I was looking at my friend's blog, and she had a quote. The quote is:"It is not who you are underneath, but what you do that defines you!" I believe that my actions define me. I believe that as I move on, I can do what tha alcoholics called “the next right thing”
What is the next indicated action? I have been challenged for sittinbg around on a day when I said I would go to the doctor. I have b een bothered by the presence of transcript requests in my bag, when the deadline to sign upo for school comes closer. I have seen many things which I have willingly dragged my feet. In my own limited volition I have stifled progress on my own stated goals. The simplicity lies in placing a stamp on a card, or walking to a busstop to visit a doctor.
Yet, in spite of myself, progress keeps happening. I am not in poor health. I am gratified by the good wishes I receive. We just have a few issues that need addressing, and the doctors addressing thjem wan t to examine my brain to find some answers.
Today, I wondered what this chronicle is worth. I write about my situation, and many have shared right back. Yesterday, I had to fill out some paperwork for the United States government.
I have a simple history of not tracking much in my life, so when they asked me questions about my medical history, I freaked out. I then realized that dates and names are easily tracked, because this blog has all the dates l;isted out pertinent to my claim.
I was pleased to visit the Social Security office. I walked in, and I saw ikn my mind how it would all play out.
A thin man with a dark suit ands horn rimmed glasses would lead me into the room. Taking my paperwork would ask, “Mr. Stahr, you walked in here today. Do you take any pain medications?”
“Any psych medications?”
His hand would sweep down, and in one swift motion would slam the rubber stamp on my claim: “Claim denied!”
Needless to say, I capitulated, and felt gratified when the worker listened carefully to my comments, and informed me of all aspects of this claim process.Thank you for reading