(Some) Government Agencies Suck

We’re *this* close to having insurance for Cordy and Mira. Since Aaron lost his job, we knew it was a possibility we’d run out of insurance before he could find a new one. At first, we hoped that something would appear before the end of July – how naive we were. That whole plan to bring jobs to Ohio isn’t exactly working as quickly as we’d like.

At the end of July, we realized there was no immediate job offer coming, so we applied for state assistance for health insurance for the kids. The SCHIP program has helped so many people, and while I’ve always been a supporter, I never imagined we’d have to take advantage of it. With only our freelance income, we easily qualify for it. The paperwork was submitted, all documentation was submitted and approved, and everything should be in place for my two young daughters to have health insurance to protect them if anything would happen.

I said should be in place, because as of yet it isn’t. We still have one obstacle in our way:

Our case worker.

Now, I have never bought into the stereotype of the lazy government worker. Especially since my husband was just recently a government worker, and would have been fired quickly for poor customer service in his agency. I had the belief that people who worked in government jobs did so because of their desire to help others and make a difference.

Yeah, I know. You can really stop laughing now.

Our case worker has so far been slow and unable to keep his word. Everything was submitted and in order as of the beginning of August for their health insurance. There was some question as to if we might qualify for additional help, so he said he would be in touch with us either the next Monday, or if not then, the Monday morning after that for sure. (He was going on vacation after the first Monday.)

We waited but there was no call the first Monday. We knew it was a possibility, so we crossed our fingers and hoped no one got sick that week. The second Monday morning, there was no call. By late afternoon, Aaron called the agency, and was told they would give him the message that he called, and his case worker would respond within 24 hours.

Somehow I expected a call within 24 hours. But there was no call on Tuesday. On Wednesday afternoon, nearly 2 days after Aaron called, the case worker called back, telling us he didn’t have a chance to do anything yet, but would have everything finalized by the next day. We were told he would call us back “tomorrow before 1pm.” (Thursday)

You can probably guess what happened next. There was no call on Thursday. Or Friday.

So yesterday Aaron called again first thing in the morning, and was again informed that his case worker would be back in touch within 24 hours. No call. He called again today, got the same message.

At this point, it’s been nearly a month since our children were approved for health insurance, but so far no confirmation has been made to get them enrolled.

I’m only glad this guy is dealing with Aaron and not me. I consider myself a patient person, but not where my children’s health is concerned. I’m feeling very mama bear right now, and I would likely have some choice words for him about doing what you say you will do and how damn hard is it to make a 5 minute phone call, asshole? This is about health coverage for kids!

When I worked as a student advisor, there were days when I was busy and had several phone messages waiting for me. If I wasn’t in the office the next day (I worked part-time) I’d stay the extra 5-10 minutes it took to make sure I got back to everyone, even if it was just to acknowledge their call and let them know I was looking into their question and when to expect a response.

I’d be more OK with this situation if there was a hold-up somewhere and he could take the time to let us know what the delay is. Instead, we’re left calling daily with no return call or information about when or if our girls will have health insurance. How can an agency that is dedicated to helping families in a time of need be so far off it’s goal? It seems that when it comes to Family Services in Ohio, customer service is dead.

The one upside to share with you is that Aaron had an interview last week that went very well. He was called back the next day (see? some places can call back!) and has a second interview tomorrow. If this goes well, he might be employed as early as mid-September, and insurance would be back in October. And then hopefully I can put this not-quite-nightmare, more-like-a-bad-dream of a summer behind me.



Today’s Conversations

While riding on Aaron’s shoulders:

“Are you tall, Cordy?”

“Yes!”

“Are you taller than daddy?”

“Yes!”

“Are you taller than mommy and Mira?”

“Yes! I can touch the clouds!”

“Are you taller than a giraffe?”

“Nooooo…I’m just a little girl!”

————–

“Daddy, I want a sandwich now.”

“I’m making it right now, Cordy.”

“Are they triangles?”

“No, I haven’t cut it into triangles yet.”

“Oh, OK…I’ll come back when they’re triangles.”

————

Psst…I’m giving away an awesome diaper bag (that doesn’t even look like a diaper bag) at Mommy’s Must Haves.



Haiku Friday: School Time!

What’s that sound I hear?
A school bus is driving by –
It’s that time again

Not a moment too
soon! It’s back to school time and
parents all rejoice!

I love fall in general, but I can’t wait until the start of the school year next week. Cordy will have her old routine back, with her awesome preschool teacher and many of her preschool friends from last year. She’ll (eventually) be happier, and I’ll be happier to have her back on a routine again, as well as getting some one-on-one time with Mira, who will be happy to get my undivided attention.

Everyone wins. I love school.

This post is part of the Back to School Blog Blast this weekend, sponsored by Parent Bloggers Network and Hanes. Want to win some underwear for your kids (or yourself?) – there’s still time to add your post!

To play along for Haiku Friday, follow these steps:

1. Write your own haiku on your blog. You can do one or many, all following a theme or just random. What’s a haiku, you ask? Click here.

2. Sign the Mister Linky below with your name and the link to your haiku post (the specific post URL, not your main blog URL). DON’T sign unless you have a haiku this week. If you need help with this, please let me know.

3. Pick up a Haiku Friday button to display on the post or in your sidebar by clicking the button at the top.

REMEMBER: Do not post your link unless you have a haiku this week! I will delete any links without haiku!



Racing Through The Fog

I really don’t have time to be depressed right now.

August is shaping up to be one of the busiest months for me, and only an Olympic-sized effort is going to get me through to the end of the month finish line with everything accomplished.

In exactly one week school begins for Cordy, and I’m completely unprepared at the moment. It’s not like I really need that much to be prepared – there are no crazy lists of supplies each child must have, including the requisite three boxes of Kleenex. She really only needs a backpack, plenty of pull-ups, and a good pair of shoes. Her feet have spent most of the summer in the freedom of sandals, due to my own obsession with summer sandals. (Am I alone in this? Foot claustrophobia is real, people. My feet must be free.)

I do worry that the emotional preparations for going back to school will be far harder. While she loved preschool last year, and will be returning to the same teacher and many of the same classmates, it’s still another transition that we must face. We’ve discussed it daily, and each time she brushes it off, saying, “I never want to go to school.” I may try giving her teacher a call this week to see if we can come visit the classroom before school starts, so Cordy can re-acquaint herself with the room before adding in the additional stress of several kids.

I’ve procrastinated on several writing projects and now must force myself to finish them and move them off my plate. They’re not difficult at all – getting the motivation to sit down and write is the hardest part. The overwhelming feelings of inadequacy attack every time I try to write something, telling me I’m not good enough to be paid to write, and anything I turn in will be rejected and laughed at. I know it’s not true, but that little voice has become very loud and persistent. I need to find a muzzle for it.

I’m so angry with myself for being depressed. Random crying fits and the energy of a sloth aren’t conducive to getting all of this done. I want to shake it off, get working, and be in overdrive again. I’m paralyzed by my thoughts. Being held down by your own emotions feels worse than being oppressed by any outside force.

I’ve called my doctor to inquire about going back on antidepressants. I have a prescription for Wellbutrin sitting in my patient file, but when I checked with local pharmacies, the cheapest price for the generic version is $130 for 30 days. (!!) My doctor will be calling me back tomorrow to discuss options. Should have figured that the antidepressant that works best for me isn’t one of the $4 generics that pharmacies offer.

Thank you all for your support on my last post. That virtual hug from so many was a very soothing feeling, and I see I’m not alone in fighting with this monster at the moment. I hope those of you who are also feeling the sting of depression can find the help you need, too.

Knowing there is this community of support is what keeps me coming back to blogging, even when I feel like I have nothing worth saying.

And because I do have a pathological need to end on a hopeful note, I will add that Aaron has another job interview tomorrow. It would be a good position for him with a great employer. Fingers are already crossed.



There Are No Rainbows and Unicorns Here

I should have known the monster was lurking in the shadows.

Lately I’ve felt out-of-sorts. It started innocently enough – I could blame my uneasy moods and little dark cloud over my head on our employment situation. (Still no jobs yet, by the way.) I might have felt the cold breath of it on the back of my neck at BlogHer.

But over the past week I’ve started running little self-checks in my head, and I didn’t like the results. I’m having trouble keeping up with everything. I’m short-tempered with the girls. I’m occasionally finding a nearly empty box of Cheez-its in my hand with no idea where they all went. Cleaning up the house seems so pointless.

I don’t even want to get out of bed in the morning. I’m lazy at getting back to e-mails, comments, and even phone calls.

Trying to write a blog post is an actual chore. When I do write anything down, I hate every word I write, unable to find the right words, put them in the right combination, or find the right hook to really capture attention. When I read my own posts, I feel like a broken record. I’m still reading blogs, but I feel like I have so little to contribute that I’m rarely commenting. I feel empty inside.

It really hit me when I was on a conference call about depression with Dr. Myrna Weissman and Families for Depression Awareness. I listened, asked questions, and as the call continued, I started to realize it: I’ve lost interest in activities I enjoy. I fit all of the symptoms.

I’m depressed.

Again.

It was so sneaky this time. Taking advantage of the bad times, and piggybacking on a few negative feelings, growing and feeding them until they were big, bad Negative Feelings.

I’ve also tried to deny it for some time now. After all, I don’t have time to be depressed. I can’t put my life on hold to deal with this. We don’t even have insurance right now. I need to be in overdrive right now for my family – depression does not figure in this plan.

But the monster is out of the closet, and it has completely overtaken me. The last time I was depressed was when I was pregnant with Cordy. It took me by surprise then, too. After all, I was pregnant, it was a planned pregnancy, and it was what I really wanted – shouldn’t I be over-the-moon happy? I was put on antidepressants while pregnant and continued them through Cordy’s first year to prevent postpartum depression.

I was expecting to be depressed again when pregnant with Mira, but I wasn’t. Once she was born, I had some normal postpartum sadness, but it quickly faded and there was no sign of depression. Now over a year later, it seems to have caught up with me, like an unwanted visitor you hope won’t show up for the party.

I hate this. I don’t want to be depressed. I don’t know what to do about it right now, either. As soon as a job with insurance materializes I can get myself to the pharmacy for antidepressants again, I guess. In the meantime, I need to keep pushing through each day, getting all of my work done with minimal lateness and making efforts to be social.

So I guess what I’m saying is I hope you’ll please bear with me as I work through this. I’m sorry I’m sucking at being a good blog friend right now. I’ve spent 10 minutes trying to find an end for this post, something that puts an upbeat end to it, but I’m at a loss this time.

I want to feel like me again soon, instead of this hollow shell of me.