Edited at bottom:
So I just got an appointment to go in to be checked so I can renew my diabetes medicine. Now we're waiting on a call back to tell us how much the whole thing is going to cost us.
That's US, as in WE. NOT U.S. of A.
So far we have been told it will cost $150 to show up and leave. Nothing done. Nothing checked. Just boom! We're out $150 for gracing them with my presence. I knew people didn't like me, but I didn't realize it was going to cost me $150 just to have them look at me.
Once I'm there someone (or more) will take my pulse and blood pressure. This is extra now. Not covered by the $150. And since this is a diabetic appointment someone will need to draw blood from my arm. Someone else will need to test it. And it will need to be reported. Not free either.
As things sit now I would not be surprised if we were told it's going to cost us $300. Or MORE. If we're lucky it will only be about $250.
At $250 my decision becomes difficult. That's a lot of money. With milk at $3 a gallon and bread at $1.25 a loaf and butter at $4 a pound that's still a lot of groceries.
The telephone/internet bill is about $70. That's three months worth. (Why have internet? It's getting so one can hardly live without it. Even son's band practice is done over the internet now. No exceptions.)
So, at $250 I have to choose between medicine and other things - such as food. And what makes that so aggravating is that $150 of that bill is for absolutely NOTHING. Just showing up is worth 50 gallons of milk. I'm not sure that it is.
If the bill turns out to be $300 or more the decision becomes significantly easier. I will cancel the appointment and quit taking diabetic medicine. We can't afford to do anything else.
Can we afford the consequences? Well, let's examine that.
I have no job. Therefore I generate NO INCOME. So my loss represents a no-change status regarding income.
If I am gone there is less food being consumed. Less water being used. Less electricity.
From a strictly financial perspective it actually looks to be a good deal.
But there's more to life than money.
Unless you live in the United States of America. Then that's all there is, I'm beginning to think.
Edited:
Got a call from the clinic. The final guess they're giving is $250. So I will be going to the clinic next week.
I signed off by telling them, "Be sure to send a thank you to the governor". The woman chuckled grimly and assured me the governor's office would be hearing about all of his cuts to healthcare for the poor.
Showing posts with label Decay. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Decay. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Friday, January 22, 2010
The Horses are Gone. Who Gives a Damn About the Gate.
So, we've lost the house, right? That happened a few months ago. But what do we get in the mail yesterday but a letter from the bank informing us that we now qualify for a vast reduction in interest rate. Just over two percent! (We were paying over five.) This "offer" lasts until the end of February. It reduces the monthly house payment by $800. Pretty fantastic.
Where were they two years ago when we begged them to cooperate with us and they refused? That extra $800 a month could have made the difference between us keeping the house or not. Now the house sits empty. Deteriorating.
When we left the roof leaked over the dining room and the foyer. The siding was damaged on the north and west sides. There was no siding on the west side of the garage. The carpeting was all original from the year 2000. (We were only in it two years when our income dropped from $95,000 a year to $30,000 a year. And since then it has dropped to about $15,000.) The walls in the major rooms need to be repainted. Some of the sinks were beginning to leak and a couple of the bathroom fixtures needed replacement. The house sits in a low area (weren't we brilliant to build there) and so the sump pump runs almost constantly. Year round. We actually went through one and had to replace it.
Sitting empty the ceiling will continue to leak. The already worn and dirty carpeting will not be vacuumed. Condensation around the windows (a problem in this house) will not be mopped up, thereby collecting and becoming a breeding place for mold. Should the sump pump quit running for any reason the lowest level will flood. And for whatever reason there is, houses simply tend to break down when nobody is living in them. I don't know why, but they do.
Spouse believes the bank has the house up for sale at the low price of $169,000. That's about $100,000 less than what we owed, and $80,000 less than it would be worth were it in good repair. My estimate is that it is going to take upwards of $100,000 to restore it to excellent condition again. The roof and siding will take up at least $30,000 alone. But most of the double glazing has popped and the windows should really be replaced. Lets' see: 10 windows on the south side alone; 2 more on the west; 7 on the north; and 2 more on the east. That's 21 windows. Windows aren't cheap. Neither is carpeting. Living room. Family room. Study. Three bedrooms. The vinyl flooring in the kitchen and foyer should be replaced. And since one is at it, might as well replace the vinyl in three bathrooms (the downstairs one is unfinished anyway).
I'm sure the letter we received was some kind of form letter, for it makes no mention of the fact that it's been more than a year since we made a house payment. The thing is, now that our income has dropped to where it is, even at an $800 a month discount we couldn't afford it. What a pity. What a waste.
Where were they two years ago when we begged them to cooperate with us and they refused? That extra $800 a month could have made the difference between us keeping the house or not. Now the house sits empty. Deteriorating.
When we left the roof leaked over the dining room and the foyer. The siding was damaged on the north and west sides. There was no siding on the west side of the garage. The carpeting was all original from the year 2000. (We were only in it two years when our income dropped from $95,000 a year to $30,000 a year. And since then it has dropped to about $15,000.) The walls in the major rooms need to be repainted. Some of the sinks were beginning to leak and a couple of the bathroom fixtures needed replacement. The house sits in a low area (weren't we brilliant to build there) and so the sump pump runs almost constantly. Year round. We actually went through one and had to replace it.
Sitting empty the ceiling will continue to leak. The already worn and dirty carpeting will not be vacuumed. Condensation around the windows (a problem in this house) will not be mopped up, thereby collecting and becoming a breeding place for mold. Should the sump pump quit running for any reason the lowest level will flood. And for whatever reason there is, houses simply tend to break down when nobody is living in them. I don't know why, but they do.
Spouse believes the bank has the house up for sale at the low price of $169,000. That's about $100,000 less than what we owed, and $80,000 less than it would be worth were it in good repair. My estimate is that it is going to take upwards of $100,000 to restore it to excellent condition again. The roof and siding will take up at least $30,000 alone. But most of the double glazing has popped and the windows should really be replaced. Lets' see: 10 windows on the south side alone; 2 more on the west; 7 on the north; and 2 more on the east. That's 21 windows. Windows aren't cheap. Neither is carpeting. Living room. Family room. Study. Three bedrooms. The vinyl flooring in the kitchen and foyer should be replaced. And since one is at it, might as well replace the vinyl in three bathrooms (the downstairs one is unfinished anyway).
I'm sure the letter we received was some kind of form letter, for it makes no mention of the fact that it's been more than a year since we made a house payment. The thing is, now that our income has dropped to where it is, even at an $800 a month discount we couldn't afford it. What a pity. What a waste.
Friday, December 4, 2009
Consequtive Defeats
Being poor in America is an interesting experience. Did you know you can't file bankruptcy unless you have money? And if you don't file bankruptcy you can have your wages garnished. And if you have your wages garnished you don't have enough money to pay rent. And if you don't have enough money to pay rent you get kicked out of your place.
I have said for a long time that if there is a stupid decision to make regarding money, ask me what I choose to do and you'll know what it is. Four years ago, three years ago, two and even one year ago we had the money to file bankruptcy. But we didn't. I was of the mind that we should keep trying to pay down the bills. Be honorable. You know. But the plan failed and we ran out of money and now we don't have the money to pay our bills. Unfortunately, the banks don't give a rat's ass. Acknowledging that we never missed payments on anything for thirty years they conclude that because we have now we have suddenly decided to be dishonest.
So, what we SHOULD have done was take the money we used to pay down loans which ultimate never got paid off, and filed bankruptcy so we wouldn't have to pay off the loans and wouldn't have to worry about garnishment.
The trouble with us is that we always believe better times are coming. Even now. But we keep losing.
Remember the dead car battery? It won't hold a charge anymore. That's another $100. Only this time we don't have it. So the little car is just going to have to sit and wait for better times.
Better times are coming. Some are already experiencing them. The rest of us just have to wait a little longer. Just a little longer and everything will be all right.
It will.
I have said for a long time that if there is a stupid decision to make regarding money, ask me what I choose to do and you'll know what it is. Four years ago, three years ago, two and even one year ago we had the money to file bankruptcy. But we didn't. I was of the mind that we should keep trying to pay down the bills. Be honorable. You know. But the plan failed and we ran out of money and now we don't have the money to pay our bills. Unfortunately, the banks don't give a rat's ass. Acknowledging that we never missed payments on anything for thirty years they conclude that because we have now we have suddenly decided to be dishonest.
So, what we SHOULD have done was take the money we used to pay down loans which ultimate never got paid off, and filed bankruptcy so we wouldn't have to pay off the loans and wouldn't have to worry about garnishment.
The trouble with us is that we always believe better times are coming. Even now. But we keep losing.
Remember the dead car battery? It won't hold a charge anymore. That's another $100. Only this time we don't have it. So the little car is just going to have to sit and wait for better times.
Better times are coming. Some are already experiencing them. The rest of us just have to wait a little longer. Just a little longer and everything will be all right.
It will.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
What Can One Expect
This is my third go at writing a post, so clearly I have nothing to say. Well, not true. What is true is that I have too much to say, but nothing of interest.
That's the problem with maintaining a blog in which one offers nothing to readers. It gets dull in a hurry. My son had a blog, but he quit posting to it three months ago. What's depressing is that I have six blogs and if I add up the visits for all six they fall short of my son's blog - and he isn't even posting anymore.
This blog was started as a place for me to write what I was thinking and feeling. That worked great while I had no followers. Then people began to follow and I suppose that put some kind of pressure on what I would post about. But I don't follow routine very well and I can be all over the place in what I write. But through it all I seldom write anything meaningful. That's just not my style.
In many ways this has been a rough year. No big deal. The past seven have been quite bad. But financially this has been the worst. We lost the house and we only made the rent for November because Son gave us some of his saxophone money. We have no money for food or medicine, which is a shame because I will need to replace my blood pressure medicine in about two or three weeks. It probably isn't going to happen. Had to cancel my echogram for my heart, too. I may even cancel my appointment with the heart doctor. Already canceled the dentist appointment. The missing filling will have to wait.
So, it's been rough. But I know of others who have had it worse and are having it worse. Not that I feel any better about that, but I don't want to give the impression I am unaware that there is plenty of misery to go around.
At the same time this has been the most prolific twelve months of my writing life. I did some investigation and found I have written more than a million words in the past 12 months. If you're interested in the details visit The Great Sea (see sidebar for link).
So with the bad comes the good. But just as I think I'm as tired as I can be, I find that that just isn't true. As low as we fall it still isn't the bottom. Perhaps that should be encouraging, but I must confess that it is not.
Oh, well.
That's the problem with maintaining a blog in which one offers nothing to readers. It gets dull in a hurry. My son had a blog, but he quit posting to it three months ago. What's depressing is that I have six blogs and if I add up the visits for all six they fall short of my son's blog - and he isn't even posting anymore.
This blog was started as a place for me to write what I was thinking and feeling. That worked great while I had no followers. Then people began to follow and I suppose that put some kind of pressure on what I would post about. But I don't follow routine very well and I can be all over the place in what I write. But through it all I seldom write anything meaningful. That's just not my style.
In many ways this has been a rough year. No big deal. The past seven have been quite bad. But financially this has been the worst. We lost the house and we only made the rent for November because Son gave us some of his saxophone money. We have no money for food or medicine, which is a shame because I will need to replace my blood pressure medicine in about two or three weeks. It probably isn't going to happen. Had to cancel my echogram for my heart, too. I may even cancel my appointment with the heart doctor. Already canceled the dentist appointment. The missing filling will have to wait.
So, it's been rough. But I know of others who have had it worse and are having it worse. Not that I feel any better about that, but I don't want to give the impression I am unaware that there is plenty of misery to go around.
At the same time this has been the most prolific twelve months of my writing life. I did some investigation and found I have written more than a million words in the past 12 months. If you're interested in the details visit The Great Sea (see sidebar for link).
So with the bad comes the good. But just as I think I'm as tired as I can be, I find that that just isn't true. As low as we fall it still isn't the bottom. Perhaps that should be encouraging, but I must confess that it is not.
Oh, well.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
One Plus One Plus Three Minus Four Equals One
Took another dose of humility yesterday. Went to the food shelf to get our allotment. My first time. And just when I thought I didn't have any pride left. Turns out I do. I know, because it took a hit and I felt it.
We're only allowed to use the shelf once a month. Other food shelves may have different rules. I don't know. I expect it's kind of based on how much food they have and how many people are coming to get it.
Got some bread stuffs, canned vegetables, cereal, meat, milk, and canned juice. I also took an acorn squash. I like acorn squash. Baked with butter.
There was a time, and it doesn't seem that long ago now, that we used to bring food to the shelf. In fact, we brought some with us. Spouse had gone to the store and bought a bag of sugar only to come back to the apartment and discover we didn't need sugar. So we donated it.
Don't much like going to the food shelf. Don't expect many do. That feeling actually contributed to our losing the house. You see, we didn't go, and that meant we were using our money to buy food instead of paying the house payment. But I don't know that it would have made much of a difference anyway. At best it would have delayed the inevitable.
I find it interesting that NONE of the government agencies set up to help the poor and needy have done a single thing for us. Every time we have applied for help we have been turned down. The food shelf is run by a local church. The only thing they check is when you last visited. They don't even care if you need their services. They provide them anyway. I know this because the one man who helped us carry the bags to the car told me so. He told me to 'give myself the pride talk' and come back next month. Probably will. Probably have to.
I expect those government agencies are actually helping someone, but it never ceases to amaze me how people who earn more than we do get all kinds of help while we're turned down time and again. Some people know how to walk the system and others don't.
Regarding the food shelf, we used to donate to it regularly. I remember Spouse didn't want to at first. Didn't see the need. You have to excuse the attitude, though. Spouse grew up in a tightly conservative environment and lived for years under the delusion that people suffered because it was their own fault, so let them suffer. I grew up in a different environment that said not everyone who suffers is suffering because of themselves. But even if they are, you help them if you can. That's how poor people get along. They help each other. Which is why I have also found it interesting that until Spouse sent letters off to the family, the only people trying to help were people from my environment who were pretty much in the same fix we're in.
Life is odd. If I could step back from it and observe it better perhaps I might be able to figure it out one day. For now, I'm just trying to survive. If that means letting the ego take another beating, so be it. Son has to eat.
We're only allowed to use the shelf once a month. Other food shelves may have different rules. I don't know. I expect it's kind of based on how much food they have and how many people are coming to get it.
Got some bread stuffs, canned vegetables, cereal, meat, milk, and canned juice. I also took an acorn squash. I like acorn squash. Baked with butter.
There was a time, and it doesn't seem that long ago now, that we used to bring food to the shelf. In fact, we brought some with us. Spouse had gone to the store and bought a bag of sugar only to come back to the apartment and discover we didn't need sugar. So we donated it.
Don't much like going to the food shelf. Don't expect many do. That feeling actually contributed to our losing the house. You see, we didn't go, and that meant we were using our money to buy food instead of paying the house payment. But I don't know that it would have made much of a difference anyway. At best it would have delayed the inevitable.
I find it interesting that NONE of the government agencies set up to help the poor and needy have done a single thing for us. Every time we have applied for help we have been turned down. The food shelf is run by a local church. The only thing they check is when you last visited. They don't even care if you need their services. They provide them anyway. I know this because the one man who helped us carry the bags to the car told me so. He told me to 'give myself the pride talk' and come back next month. Probably will. Probably have to.
I expect those government agencies are actually helping someone, but it never ceases to amaze me how people who earn more than we do get all kinds of help while we're turned down time and again. Some people know how to walk the system and others don't.
Regarding the food shelf, we used to donate to it regularly. I remember Spouse didn't want to at first. Didn't see the need. You have to excuse the attitude, though. Spouse grew up in a tightly conservative environment and lived for years under the delusion that people suffered because it was their own fault, so let them suffer. I grew up in a different environment that said not everyone who suffers is suffering because of themselves. But even if they are, you help them if you can. That's how poor people get along. They help each other. Which is why I have also found it interesting that until Spouse sent letters off to the family, the only people trying to help were people from my environment who were pretty much in the same fix we're in.
Life is odd. If I could step back from it and observe it better perhaps I might be able to figure it out one day. For now, I'm just trying to survive. If that means letting the ego take another beating, so be it. Son has to eat.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Here, There and Everywhere
So, we did pay the electric bill after all. That and October rent. Nothing else, though. We need the money for transportation, food and medicine.
There is the food shelf, but we're only allowed to go once a month. Actually, Spouse has been the one to go. She told them I wouldn't be showing up and so I'm not on the card to collect anything. That's fine with Spouse. I'm less inclined to come home with things we would not have purchased on our own. Spouse's attitude is those things are there for us to take. I don't suppose there is anything wrong with either of our approaches. But they are different, and we have discussed the matter. Which is why, I think, Spouse didn't include me on the list of people allowed to collect food for our household.
But we never bought dinner rolls, so why should we bring dinner rolls home from the food shelf? Why not leave them there for people who actually used to buy dinner rolls but no longer can? Same with pudding mixes. We hardly ever had pudding. Why should we be taking it just because it's free? I don't even do that in the grocery store when they are giving out free samples. If it isn't something I would normally buy I don't take it. (Although taking a sample does not mean I am going to buy that trip.)
It's a bit of a moral dilemma for me. After all, Son has to eat. I don't really have to eat anymore. All that weight I lost? It's back again. All of it, I think. Haven't stepped on the scale since early August. It still amazes me how fat poor people can get. When I had money I wasn't fat. The less money I've had the fatter I've become. The only exception to this rule was when I used to eat out at the Chinese buffet three times a week. Good food. Lots of weight.
But when I had money I ate more often, and weighed less. That's part of the equation. By eating more frequently one is less hungry when one eats and so one takes smaller portions. Only eating once or twice a day means one is quite ravenous and eats everything they can stuff in their mouth.
Another part of the equation is that a bag of chips lasts longer than an apple and costs about a quarter less. So, for less than the price of two apples, which would leave me hungry, I can eat two bags of chips, which leaves me filled - with garbage food and guilt. Probably not a good trade, but one I've been making on a regular basis.
Medicine wise I'm not sure what's going to happen. We're still buying my medicines, but the prescriptions for at least two of them are running out, and I can't afford to go back to the doctors for a checkup in order to get them renewed. One of those is for my heart and the other is for blood pressure. My diabetic medicine lasts a bit longer, but I can't afford to see the doctor, much less have more blood work done. (I was supposed to go in two months ago, but the money just isn't there to spend.) It still annoys me when I hear politicians cry that my NOT going to the doctor is costing THEM money. How? "Well, you're just getting sicker. And then you'll go to the doctor and can't pay." No, I won't. I don't live that way. If I can't pay for insurance and I can't pay for the doctor/dentist, I don't go. Lost a filling two weeks ago. God knows when I'll be able to afford to get it fixed. Once went two years with broken teeth before I could afford to get them fixed. If I can't pay for the medical help then I am content to die. It's just the way it is.
I have applied for work. Didn't get a job though. The jobs I've applied for are like being served lima beans for supper. It is possible to swallow them without vomiting, but it takes a lot of willpower. And lima beans are better than starvation. I think.
I remember watching this show on television a year ago. Don't remember the name. It was on public television (we don't have cable or dish). The show was put on by retired people for retired people. They would have famous/successful people over the age of seventy come and talk about what life was like now that they were senior citizens. Ed Asner was on once, but it was a woman (who's name I have forgotten) who left the impression on me. She was an author, apparently famous. (My not knowing her means nothing. I would be hard pressed to name ten authors.) She was talking about the physical problems which often come with being older and how she was discussing this topic with a man about her age. The man had made a very well-known jest: "Being old sucks, but just think of the alternative." And then she said something I cannot forget. "But what no one likes to admit out loud is this: There are days, like today, when the alternative doesn't seem so bad."
I was fascinated by her comment because it went against everything we're told to believe and feel. To be accepted we must "feel certain ways about certain things", and get joy out of the things we're supposed to get joy out of. Admitting to misery is a BIG no-no. No one is supposed to be miserable, even though it seems to me that so many are. Even those who still have money.
But misery is like a blemish on our skin. We can cover it up with makeup, hiding it from the world around us, but we know it's there. It's part of us, and we can't really escape it. One needn't "show it off" like a prize, which it seems I tend to do. But I think we need to admit it when we're unhappy about things. And I mean really unhappy and not just joking about how the kids, co-workers, spouse are driving us nuts. That's not misery. That's being annoyed.
Some things we're unhappy about are quite temporary. They are soon replaced by a joy which washes away the bad feelings. Other things last longer. Months, or even years. And still other things are permanent.
These things are part of all of our lives, and admitting them doesn't mean that's all our lives are about, even if that's all we seem to talk/write about.
I don't like it where I am, but mostly my circumstances can be directly attributed to decisions I have made myself. Cause and effect, you know? Sowing and reaping. I don't like it that I'm in an apartment instead of my house/home. I don't like it that I can't open the sliding door without letting in a fog of cigarette smoke from the neighbors who ALL smoke heavily. I don't like not being able to buy the food I want to eat. I don't like not being able to repair/replace the things I own. (My favorite pair of outside shorts got so threadbare they tore across the legs when I tugged them up from my knees. Probably just as well. If they were that threadbare they were probably not covering as well as they should. Not a pretty picture, I'm sure.)
But my life is more than that.
True, I can't get anyone to pay me so much as a nickel for anything I write, but I'm still writing. And I enjoy the stories, even when I'm struggling to get them out. Son is still able to play his music. (I am not. My bass is upset the people downstairs and so I have to quit.) I have online friends - some who visit this blog - who are so precious to me I could almost burst. Face-to-face, maybe they would all avoid me, but online we get along great, and I'm still searching for a way to use words in order to give hugs filled with love.
I am alive, which means I still have a purpose. Unfortunately, I don't know what that purpose is. I've tried and failed at so many things these past seven years I can honestly say without reservation that I'm tired of trying.
But it isn't all misery, even if I'm mostly unhappy right now. Things change, albeit sometimes with incredible slowness.
If I could have my way I would make others happy without bringing suffering to myself. I just don't seem to be very good at that right now.
No matter.
There is the food shelf, but we're only allowed to go once a month. Actually, Spouse has been the one to go. She told them I wouldn't be showing up and so I'm not on the card to collect anything. That's fine with Spouse. I'm less inclined to come home with things we would not have purchased on our own. Spouse's attitude is those things are there for us to take. I don't suppose there is anything wrong with either of our approaches. But they are different, and we have discussed the matter. Which is why, I think, Spouse didn't include me on the list of people allowed to collect food for our household.
But we never bought dinner rolls, so why should we bring dinner rolls home from the food shelf? Why not leave them there for people who actually used to buy dinner rolls but no longer can? Same with pudding mixes. We hardly ever had pudding. Why should we be taking it just because it's free? I don't even do that in the grocery store when they are giving out free samples. If it isn't something I would normally buy I don't take it. (Although taking a sample does not mean I am going to buy that trip.)
It's a bit of a moral dilemma for me. After all, Son has to eat. I don't really have to eat anymore. All that weight I lost? It's back again. All of it, I think. Haven't stepped on the scale since early August. It still amazes me how fat poor people can get. When I had money I wasn't fat. The less money I've had the fatter I've become. The only exception to this rule was when I used to eat out at the Chinese buffet three times a week. Good food. Lots of weight.
But when I had money I ate more often, and weighed less. That's part of the equation. By eating more frequently one is less hungry when one eats and so one takes smaller portions. Only eating once or twice a day means one is quite ravenous and eats everything they can stuff in their mouth.
Another part of the equation is that a bag of chips lasts longer than an apple and costs about a quarter less. So, for less than the price of two apples, which would leave me hungry, I can eat two bags of chips, which leaves me filled - with garbage food and guilt. Probably not a good trade, but one I've been making on a regular basis.
Medicine wise I'm not sure what's going to happen. We're still buying my medicines, but the prescriptions for at least two of them are running out, and I can't afford to go back to the doctors for a checkup in order to get them renewed. One of those is for my heart and the other is for blood pressure. My diabetic medicine lasts a bit longer, but I can't afford to see the doctor, much less have more blood work done. (I was supposed to go in two months ago, but the money just isn't there to spend.) It still annoys me when I hear politicians cry that my NOT going to the doctor is costing THEM money. How? "Well, you're just getting sicker. And then you'll go to the doctor and can't pay." No, I won't. I don't live that way. If I can't pay for insurance and I can't pay for the doctor/dentist, I don't go. Lost a filling two weeks ago. God knows when I'll be able to afford to get it fixed. Once went two years with broken teeth before I could afford to get them fixed. If I can't pay for the medical help then I am content to die. It's just the way it is.
I have applied for work. Didn't get a job though. The jobs I've applied for are like being served lima beans for supper. It is possible to swallow them without vomiting, but it takes a lot of willpower. And lima beans are better than starvation. I think.
I remember watching this show on television a year ago. Don't remember the name. It was on public television (we don't have cable or dish). The show was put on by retired people for retired people. They would have famous/successful people over the age of seventy come and talk about what life was like now that they were senior citizens. Ed Asner was on once, but it was a woman (who's name I have forgotten) who left the impression on me. She was an author, apparently famous. (My not knowing her means nothing. I would be hard pressed to name ten authors.) She was talking about the physical problems which often come with being older and how she was discussing this topic with a man about her age. The man had made a very well-known jest: "Being old sucks, but just think of the alternative." And then she said something I cannot forget. "But what no one likes to admit out loud is this: There are days, like today, when the alternative doesn't seem so bad."
I was fascinated by her comment because it went against everything we're told to believe and feel. To be accepted we must "feel certain ways about certain things", and get joy out of the things we're supposed to get joy out of. Admitting to misery is a BIG no-no. No one is supposed to be miserable, even though it seems to me that so many are. Even those who still have money.
But misery is like a blemish on our skin. We can cover it up with makeup, hiding it from the world around us, but we know it's there. It's part of us, and we can't really escape it. One needn't "show it off" like a prize, which it seems I tend to do. But I think we need to admit it when we're unhappy about things. And I mean really unhappy and not just joking about how the kids, co-workers, spouse are driving us nuts. That's not misery. That's being annoyed.
Some things we're unhappy about are quite temporary. They are soon replaced by a joy which washes away the bad feelings. Other things last longer. Months, or even years. And still other things are permanent.
These things are part of all of our lives, and admitting them doesn't mean that's all our lives are about, even if that's all we seem to talk/write about.
I don't like it where I am, but mostly my circumstances can be directly attributed to decisions I have made myself. Cause and effect, you know? Sowing and reaping. I don't like it that I'm in an apartment instead of my house/home. I don't like it that I can't open the sliding door without letting in a fog of cigarette smoke from the neighbors who ALL smoke heavily. I don't like not being able to buy the food I want to eat. I don't like not being able to repair/replace the things I own. (My favorite pair of outside shorts got so threadbare they tore across the legs when I tugged them up from my knees. Probably just as well. If they were that threadbare they were probably not covering as well as they should. Not a pretty picture, I'm sure.)
But my life is more than that.
True, I can't get anyone to pay me so much as a nickel for anything I write, but I'm still writing. And I enjoy the stories, even when I'm struggling to get them out. Son is still able to play his music. (I am not. My bass is upset the people downstairs and so I have to quit.) I have online friends - some who visit this blog - who are so precious to me I could almost burst. Face-to-face, maybe they would all avoid me, but online we get along great, and I'm still searching for a way to use words in order to give hugs filled with love.
I am alive, which means I still have a purpose. Unfortunately, I don't know what that purpose is. I've tried and failed at so many things these past seven years I can honestly say without reservation that I'm tired of trying.
But it isn't all misery, even if I'm mostly unhappy right now. Things change, albeit sometimes with incredible slowness.
If I could have my way I would make others happy without bringing suffering to myself. I just don't seem to be very good at that right now.
No matter.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Hot and Muggy After a Cold Summer
In keeping with my emotional need to post here whenever I post on The Great Sea I am posting today because I actually did post on The Great Sea. How's that for babbling? I'm not as good at it as some, but I'm certainly no novice.
Well, we won't be paying any bills now except for rent, transportation, and food. A pity. When the electricity is cut off so will be my computer time. That not only means internet access, which I'm using to help write my new book, but it means a lot of other things as well.
Got a couple of leads on ways to generate income, but I'm not hopeful. Nothing much works out anymore and I'm pretty much just biding my time now until I learn exactly what's at the bottom anyway. I still find it amusing (used to find it amazing) that with our income down to only 15% of what it once was, we still can't get any assistance from anyone. Excel Energy says they won't work with us until we miss a payment (at which time they will threaten to shut the power off). Well, that's now, so I guess we'll see how that plays out. Same with the other utilities. County help? State help? Forget it. Good ole Governor Pawlenty has cut funds for all social services to the point I'm surprised anyone gets anything. Right now he's running around the country trying to convince Republicans everywhere that he would make a great president. He will - if what you want is a yes man who does everything in his power to undo all progress this country has made in the past 200+ years. I wouldn't be surprised if he makes it. He's a horrible choice and the Republicans seem to have turned in that direction of late.
Anyway, I'm sorry to report there isn't a lot of good news to report. Son is still proceeding with his saxophone lessons. There was short, and unfortunate, disagreement about that, but previous promises were brought to recollection and the money which was earmarked for Son remains so. For now. As the financial threat levels increase so does the pressure to abandon old promises.
Could go silent again. If I do it's likely because we don't have electricity to run the computer. I must be nuts, because I still believe things are going to get better. Not just for the country, but for us, too. We'll see. I'll keep you posted if I can.
Well, we won't be paying any bills now except for rent, transportation, and food. A pity. When the electricity is cut off so will be my computer time. That not only means internet access, which I'm using to help write my new book, but it means a lot of other things as well.
Got a couple of leads on ways to generate income, but I'm not hopeful. Nothing much works out anymore and I'm pretty much just biding my time now until I learn exactly what's at the bottom anyway. I still find it amusing (used to find it amazing) that with our income down to only 15% of what it once was, we still can't get any assistance from anyone. Excel Energy says they won't work with us until we miss a payment (at which time they will threaten to shut the power off). Well, that's now, so I guess we'll see how that plays out. Same with the other utilities. County help? State help? Forget it. Good ole Governor Pawlenty has cut funds for all social services to the point I'm surprised anyone gets anything. Right now he's running around the country trying to convince Republicans everywhere that he would make a great president. He will - if what you want is a yes man who does everything in his power to undo all progress this country has made in the past 200+ years. I wouldn't be surprised if he makes it. He's a horrible choice and the Republicans seem to have turned in that direction of late.
Anyway, I'm sorry to report there isn't a lot of good news to report. Son is still proceeding with his saxophone lessons. There was short, and unfortunate, disagreement about that, but previous promises were brought to recollection and the money which was earmarked for Son remains so. For now. As the financial threat levels increase so does the pressure to abandon old promises.
Could go silent again. If I do it's likely because we don't have electricity to run the computer. I must be nuts, because I still believe things are going to get better. Not just for the country, but for us, too. We'll see. I'll keep you posted if I can.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
The Elastic is Gone From My Waistband
Posted on The Great Sea so I thought I should post here, too.
I've nothing to say, actually. Except, perhaps, that I never should have let myself expect anything. That was my mistake. I knew better. After all these years of living and feeling and experiencing, I knew better than to have expectations. But I did it anyway. And once again, my own expectations have cheated me.
It gets to be tiring. Not just reading more of my self-pitying crap, but never getting what I expect - unless it is crap. And as intelligent as I'm supposed to be, why is it I always fall back and believe that things are going to improve - when they never do. Never. Not ever. Not really.
I remember Betty telling me something way back in the 1970s. That's more than thirty years ago now. We (the cooks and waitresses at a then popular Italian restaurant) were trying to come up with one-word descriptions of each staff member. For most it was fairly easy - and comical. We were pretty much friends, and friends can pretty much say anything about and to each other. Real friends can, anyway. What I've seen of late is that people are no longer allowed this freedom and right. Say anything unflattering and you're blasted.
Anyway, no one could come up with a word for me. My suspicion - then and now - is that the words which came to mine were so unflattering they feared to speak them. Even then. But Betty told me she would give it serious thought, and by the end of the night she had a word she felt happy with: Perseverance. Even at the time I didn't feel especially flattered by it. I had been hoping for something like, Funny, Comical, Friendly. Instead, I got, Perseverance.
Well, maybe she was right. I mean, I'm still here, aren't I? Nobody's laughing, but I'm still here.
It's become a weary burden, though. There must be a reason to go on to the next thing, else why go? Why drive to the next town if there's nothing there? If one has no route, then who cares? If you don't know where you're going then why go anywhere? Here's as good as anyplace.
Only the decision isn't all mine. I'm being dragged to places I don't want to go and being forced to stay in places I don't want to be. I know there are others in and heading to worse places. Unfortunately, it doesn't make my life any happier. And that's the simple truth.
Told you I didn't have anything to say.
I've nothing to say, actually. Except, perhaps, that I never should have let myself expect anything. That was my mistake. I knew better. After all these years of living and feeling and experiencing, I knew better than to have expectations. But I did it anyway. And once again, my own expectations have cheated me.
It gets to be tiring. Not just reading more of my self-pitying crap, but never getting what I expect - unless it is crap. And as intelligent as I'm supposed to be, why is it I always fall back and believe that things are going to improve - when they never do. Never. Not ever. Not really.
I remember Betty telling me something way back in the 1970s. That's more than thirty years ago now. We (the cooks and waitresses at a then popular Italian restaurant) were trying to come up with one-word descriptions of each staff member. For most it was fairly easy - and comical. We were pretty much friends, and friends can pretty much say anything about and to each other. Real friends can, anyway. What I've seen of late is that people are no longer allowed this freedom and right. Say anything unflattering and you're blasted.
Anyway, no one could come up with a word for me. My suspicion - then and now - is that the words which came to mine were so unflattering they feared to speak them. Even then. But Betty told me she would give it serious thought, and by the end of the night she had a word she felt happy with: Perseverance. Even at the time I didn't feel especially flattered by it. I had been hoping for something like, Funny, Comical, Friendly. Instead, I got, Perseverance.
Well, maybe she was right. I mean, I'm still here, aren't I? Nobody's laughing, but I'm still here.
It's become a weary burden, though. There must be a reason to go on to the next thing, else why go? Why drive to the next town if there's nothing there? If one has no route, then who cares? If you don't know where you're going then why go anywhere? Here's as good as anyplace.
Only the decision isn't all mine. I'm being dragged to places I don't want to go and being forced to stay in places I don't want to be. I know there are others in and heading to worse places. Unfortunately, it doesn't make my life any happier. And that's the simple truth.
Told you I didn't have anything to say.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Still Alive
One trip remaining to empty the house of things we wish to keep with us. There will still be a few items remaining after this next trip: empty boxes, mucky throw rugs, an old car seat, a few mops, and the garage door openers.
Not a lot of room here. Especially in the shower. Just measured it. It's 2-1/2' square. I'm not square (haven't been called that in years) but I do measure two feet from shoulder to shoulder. So I shower in the bathtub, where the faucet comes out at about chest high. Makes washing my face and hair a bit of a challenge.
Son has done a check and determined we are probably the only people around here over the age of twelve who do not smoke. But the people are friendly enough.
Stairs are a nightmare. No air in the hallway. Not to breathe anyway. I nearly faint going up one flight of seventeen steps. Then I have to make another flight and I nearly die.
We can afford to be here until maybe Christmas. Then we don't even have this.
Sometimes that's just how it goes. You know it's true - there are still people in this world who would trade places with us in a trice.
Not a lot of room here. Especially in the shower. Just measured it. It's 2-1/2' square. I'm not square (haven't been called that in years) but I do measure two feet from shoulder to shoulder. So I shower in the bathtub, where the faucet comes out at about chest high. Makes washing my face and hair a bit of a challenge.
Son has done a check and determined we are probably the only people around here over the age of twelve who do not smoke. But the people are friendly enough.
Stairs are a nightmare. No air in the hallway. Not to breathe anyway. I nearly faint going up one flight of seventeen steps. Then I have to make another flight and I nearly die.
We can afford to be here until maybe Christmas. Then we don't even have this.
Sometimes that's just how it goes. You know it's true - there are still people in this world who would trade places with us in a trice.
Friday, August 7, 2009
It Really was Soft Wood
I wanted to write something funny today. My efforts have not met with success. (So what else is new?) Guess I'm not feeling so silly as I am feeling the need to be silly.
Every get like that? It's like a burp that won't come out. And even when you manage to produce anything it's hardly worth being called a burp. And completely unsatisfying.
Back when I was a child (what do you mean back?) my sister, Helvie, and I would occasionally have days in which we spent an inordinate amount of time saying,
What do you want to do?
I don't know. What do you want to do?
I don't know. What do you want to do?
It drove Mother nuts, and perhaps that made it all worthwhile. Even the getting slapped and being told if we couldn't find anything to do she would find something for us. Inevitably that meant doing something without any redeeming merit whatsoever. Parents just didn't have any imagination back then.
Well, that isn't entirely so.
I don't recall the year, but one winter Mother came up with something to amuse the entire family. It was quite an achievement for her as she was not generally one to participate in games and things like that. Daddy did. Daddy loved table games and teasing and things like that. No so Mother.
But this one year she wrote a series of stories. I don't recall what any of them were. Probably because Mother deliberately left out a whole slew of nouns. Then she cut up about four dozen little rectangle pieces of paper, wrote the name of a noun on each, and shuffled them up. After supper, we sat around the table and she dealt out an equal number of pieces of paper to each. You see, our television was on the blink. Maybe the electricity was even out again. Don't remember. Just remember sitting around the table. Mother, Daddy, Mickey, Lynahr, Judayl, Gayanne, Helvie, and me. Ranell was up north.
Then Mother began reading her story. When she got to a missing noun she turned to the first person to her left. They flipped over their piece of paper and read the noun. It made for some interesting reading. This was especially so when someone flipped over the piece of paper and read, "Sour Owl Sh*t". Mother could be quite earthy.
Finding something to do back then always seemed to be an exercise in creative thinking. Living in the country it was really impossible to get anywhere. I mean anywhere different. I would hop on my bicycle and go ten miles and not see anything I couldn't see from own back yard. I used to do that, too. I'd get on my bike and go, not caring so much about where I was going, just that I was going. It wasn't the destination that mattered. It wasn't even the journey. It was just the feeling I was moving. Oh. How interesting a choice of word. Moving.
That's exactly how I feel at the moment: like I'm moving. But then I am - whether I want to or not. (I don't, by the way.) But this is the wrong kind of moving. Feels more like falling. Like when I was about forty or fifty feet up in that willow tree. I heard the snap and remember wondering about it as I fell. I turned (like a cat) as I dropped and so I saw the arms stretched out to catch me. I landed in them softly, and my weight brought both them and me down to the water's edge (the willow was growing in a swamp). There was a moment's pause before I was lifted back up to the arms' normal posture. I don't remember if that tree is still there. It had soft arms. That all I remember.
I don't know if there are any arms to catch me this time. I turn, but I can't see the bottom. I don't know what's down there, but it's coming up fast. Where are the soft arms to save me? I don't want to go splat.
Every get like that? It's like a burp that won't come out. And even when you manage to produce anything it's hardly worth being called a burp. And completely unsatisfying.
Back when I was a child (what do you mean back?) my sister, Helvie, and I would occasionally have days in which we spent an inordinate amount of time saying,
What do you want to do?
I don't know. What do you want to do?
I don't know. What do you want to do?
It drove Mother nuts, and perhaps that made it all worthwhile. Even the getting slapped and being told if we couldn't find anything to do she would find something for us. Inevitably that meant doing something without any redeeming merit whatsoever. Parents just didn't have any imagination back then.
Well, that isn't entirely so.
I don't recall the year, but one winter Mother came up with something to amuse the entire family. It was quite an achievement for her as she was not generally one to participate in games and things like that. Daddy did. Daddy loved table games and teasing and things like that. No so Mother.
But this one year she wrote a series of stories. I don't recall what any of them were. Probably because Mother deliberately left out a whole slew of nouns. Then she cut up about four dozen little rectangle pieces of paper, wrote the name of a noun on each, and shuffled them up. After supper, we sat around the table and she dealt out an equal number of pieces of paper to each. You see, our television was on the blink. Maybe the electricity was even out again. Don't remember. Just remember sitting around the table. Mother, Daddy, Mickey, Lynahr, Judayl, Gayanne, Helvie, and me. Ranell was up north.
Then Mother began reading her story. When she got to a missing noun she turned to the first person to her left. They flipped over their piece of paper and read the noun. It made for some interesting reading. This was especially so when someone flipped over the piece of paper and read, "Sour Owl Sh*t". Mother could be quite earthy.
Finding something to do back then always seemed to be an exercise in creative thinking. Living in the country it was really impossible to get anywhere. I mean anywhere different. I would hop on my bicycle and go ten miles and not see anything I couldn't see from own back yard. I used to do that, too. I'd get on my bike and go, not caring so much about where I was going, just that I was going. It wasn't the destination that mattered. It wasn't even the journey. It was just the feeling I was moving. Oh. How interesting a choice of word. Moving.
That's exactly how I feel at the moment: like I'm moving. But then I am - whether I want to or not. (I don't, by the way.) But this is the wrong kind of moving. Feels more like falling. Like when I was about forty or fifty feet up in that willow tree. I heard the snap and remember wondering about it as I fell. I turned (like a cat) as I dropped and so I saw the arms stretched out to catch me. I landed in them softly, and my weight brought both them and me down to the water's edge (the willow was growing in a swamp). There was a moment's pause before I was lifted back up to the arms' normal posture. I don't remember if that tree is still there. It had soft arms. That all I remember.
I don't know if there are any arms to catch me this time. I turn, but I can't see the bottom. I don't know what's down there, but it's coming up fast. Where are the soft arms to save me? I don't want to go splat.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
An Unpleasant Countdown
Less than a week to go now in this house. Legally, I believe we have until some time in September before we have to leave, but the movers will be here next Monday to take our possessions away. Hopefully, they won't keep them for themselves.
When Spouse and I got married we had the ceremony in eastern Wisconsin. At the time we would be living in eastern Minnesota. But Spouse's family was where we had the ceremony. One of my close friends at the time actually drove the 300 miles one way to attend the wedding. He, my mother, and a two sisters rented a van and he did the driving. After the wedding they brought back all of the wedding gifts while Spouse and I went off to spend some time together.
Two years later my friend got married. As I walked the receiving line to shake his hand (and his bride's) he introduced me to her.
DAN: This is my friend, Bevie. We're good friends.
ME: Yes. So good, in fact, that I let him take charge of our wedding gifts. How are they, by the way?
They're really nice. The toaster's broken. It was just cheap garbage.
Wasn't that your gift to us?
Yes. I believe it was.
That's one of the things I liked about Dan. He just flowed with a joke as though he were in on it from the first. But it's been nearly 30 years since I've seen him. Life goes on and often we head in separate directions from those we care about today.
Which brings me back to the point of this post. Less than a week to go in this house. When we move we will have at least interrupted telephone service. I receive my internet service via telephone. Don't know what kind of telephone service we will have. We'll have to have something, but whether that service includes an internet connection is not known at this time. So, what I'm trying to say is that I may be on a countdown to signing off for a very long time. Possibly permanently.
In the meantime Spouse and Son are all excited and moving things early. They're in the process of loading up for their third trip in as many days. Saving the movers work next week. Just as well. They charge by the hour. How can we afford to hire movers? We can't afford not to. We are moving to a third floor apartment/flat. I get wore out just walking the stairs carrying my own weight. No one we know is able and willing to help. The cost of renting a moving truck I could drive is almost as much as hiring someone else to do the work. Besides, we're keeping someone employed. Doing our part, you know.
Myself? I have not returned to the place since we signed the lease. I'm in no hurry. Once I get there I'm not going to want to come down. It just means having to climb back up. (No elevators. This place is not exactly the Ritz.)
Fortunately, we're nearly out of furniture. Unfortunately, the furniture which remains is heavy. I have a beautiful cedar desk which weighs more than I do. We have the pool table, which nobody would buy. That's going to cost an extra $150 to move. And they won't set it up. Just as well. Son as a really nice dresser which is almost as heavy as me, and we have a nice one about half my weight. Other than those things our furniture consists of folding tables and chairs, a glider rocker we purchased when we learned Son was coming, three mattresses, two swivel office chairs, and a round bumper pool table. Everything else has long since been sold.
What we have are several dozen boxes filled with things from VHS movies to old record albums, my writing Archives, books (lots of these), knick knack things (I love these things), plush animals (I love these, too) and music cds. Basically, junk. But it's our junk. And so we keep it. As much because we couldn't sell it at the garage sale as any other reason. Which reminds me: we also have several boxes containing items from our gift business. Boy, didn't we get rich doing that?
So, I'll try to post daily through the week. After all, I may be signing off for good come Sunday or Monday.
When Spouse and I got married we had the ceremony in eastern Wisconsin. At the time we would be living in eastern Minnesota. But Spouse's family was where we had the ceremony. One of my close friends at the time actually drove the 300 miles one way to attend the wedding. He, my mother, and a two sisters rented a van and he did the driving. After the wedding they brought back all of the wedding gifts while Spouse and I went off to spend some time together.
Two years later my friend got married. As I walked the receiving line to shake his hand (and his bride's) he introduced me to her.
DAN: This is my friend, Bevie. We're good friends.
ME: Yes. So good, in fact, that I let him take charge of our wedding gifts. How are they, by the way?
They're really nice. The toaster's broken. It was just cheap garbage.
Wasn't that your gift to us?
Yes. I believe it was.
That's one of the things I liked about Dan. He just flowed with a joke as though he were in on it from the first. But it's been nearly 30 years since I've seen him. Life goes on and often we head in separate directions from those we care about today.
Which brings me back to the point of this post. Less than a week to go in this house. When we move we will have at least interrupted telephone service. I receive my internet service via telephone. Don't know what kind of telephone service we will have. We'll have to have something, but whether that service includes an internet connection is not known at this time. So, what I'm trying to say is that I may be on a countdown to signing off for a very long time. Possibly permanently.
In the meantime Spouse and Son are all excited and moving things early. They're in the process of loading up for their third trip in as many days. Saving the movers work next week. Just as well. They charge by the hour. How can we afford to hire movers? We can't afford not to. We are moving to a third floor apartment/flat. I get wore out just walking the stairs carrying my own weight. No one we know is able and willing to help. The cost of renting a moving truck I could drive is almost as much as hiring someone else to do the work. Besides, we're keeping someone employed. Doing our part, you know.
Myself? I have not returned to the place since we signed the lease. I'm in no hurry. Once I get there I'm not going to want to come down. It just means having to climb back up. (No elevators. This place is not exactly the Ritz.)
Fortunately, we're nearly out of furniture. Unfortunately, the furniture which remains is heavy. I have a beautiful cedar desk which weighs more than I do. We have the pool table, which nobody would buy. That's going to cost an extra $150 to move. And they won't set it up. Just as well. Son as a really nice dresser which is almost as heavy as me, and we have a nice one about half my weight. Other than those things our furniture consists of folding tables and chairs, a glider rocker we purchased when we learned Son was coming, three mattresses, two swivel office chairs, and a round bumper pool table. Everything else has long since been sold.
What we have are several dozen boxes filled with things from VHS movies to old record albums, my writing Archives, books (lots of these), knick knack things (I love these things), plush animals (I love these, too) and music cds. Basically, junk. But it's our junk. And so we keep it. As much because we couldn't sell it at the garage sale as any other reason. Which reminds me: we also have several boxes containing items from our gift business. Boy, didn't we get rich doing that?
So, I'll try to post daily through the week. After all, I may be signing off for good come Sunday or Monday.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
I'm Tall - But Time is Short
Unless something extraordinary occurs, we have today and eight others remaining in this house. Then we're out. Forever. The demise will have entered its next phase.
I would like to say the downward trend has been stopped, if not reversed, but that would not be true. We've just lost our current place to stay. Estimates are we will have four months at the apartment/flat. Then we lose that. Where we go then I don't know.
Was at the digestive doctor this past week. He's a very nice man. Been going to him since the early 1990s. He gives me free medicine. It only lasts a few weeks, but hey, that's like putting money in my pocket.
Generally, he's an upbeat kind of person, but this time he was low. You see, I'm not his only patient who has crumbled under the current economic collapse. He has dozens of them. Literally. And because there are so many people he knows personally who are in trouble, he favors the current health care reforms being proposed in Washington. I didn't go into details with him about them. I'm not sure I am.
It's not that I don't acknowledge the current system of health care in the United States s*cks so bad it's nearly incomprehensible as it is I just don't trust anyone to do it right. I don't trust politicians and I don't trust insurance carriers. I would trust the doctors and nurses, but they have no real power to make decisions. They can treat patients, but only within the limits set by government, insurance, and administrators.
The concept of requiring people to buy health insurance bothers me. People like me just cannot afford it. So what will government do when we don't buy it? Fine us. Brilliant thinking. Like the banks who punish people who can't afford to pay credit card bills. They raise the interest rate, thereby increasing the payments. It's just another way to torture the poor and say it's their own fault.
The theory is that for those who cannot really afford to pay for health care, subsidies will be provided. Right. I know what kind of health care that is. I've got it now. I simply don't believe in it. It will not work, but it will make a lot of people feel self-satisfied that they did something and now don't have to do anything else.
My attitude is you don't have to do anything anyway. Just leave us the h*ll alone. Life's bad enough without you a*sholes making it worse with laws that serve you and not us.
People with money b*itch and complain how people like me cost them so much money with our poor health and no health insurance. Bullsh*t! The free medicine my doctor gives me? The pharmaceutical companies get huge tax write-offs for donating the medicine. It says right on the package it cannot be sold. That it's solely for doctors to give away. And doctors don't just give it away to the poor. Back when I had money and insurance and all kinds of good things I still got free medicine every time I saw this doctor. My being poor and not having insurance did not change anything.
The insurance I "enjoyed" over the past year served two purposes: it paid a good portion of my medicine, and it was there should I have been hospitalized. But the co-pays were so high I still could not have procedures done which my doctors were demanding. I had no money to pay my portion. And so I had no procedures.
The lie is purported that people like me go to the doctor anyway and don't pay. That's a lie! The truth is, we don't go to the doctor when we can't pay. Yes, we get worse. And then we don't go to the doctor because we can't afford that. I went this time because I needed a new prescription. Don't know what it cost me, but the plan is to use some of our housing money to pay for it.
I went two years with four broken teeth because I had no insurance or money to get them fixed. When I got insurance I went. Higher insurance premiums for everyone else? Why? Turns out insurance hardly covered anything at all and I wound up spending the entire spring tax return on my teeth. Bad insurance does not save poor people anything. It gives them a false sense of hope which is dashed when they get their bill.
Life in America is about money. If you have it, you will do well. If you don't, you become a tool for the Democrats and a burden to Republicans. I resent being a tool, but it is the Republicans who truly offend me. They claim they are "God's party" because they are anti-abortion. But this is what God says "his people", regardless of race, creed, or religion, are like:
But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such there is no law.
That is from Galatians, chapter five. Be honest now. Does any of that remind you of Republicans, or Democrats, or any other political group? It doesn't me. I see none of that in the Republican Party. They show hate, anger, strife, impatience, meanness, cruelty, disloyalty, harshness, reckless abandon. And all they want are more laws.
They're certainly not god-like. Which leaves who to resemble?
No matter. In just over a week I enter the next phase of my demise.
I would like to say the downward trend has been stopped, if not reversed, but that would not be true. We've just lost our current place to stay. Estimates are we will have four months at the apartment/flat. Then we lose that. Where we go then I don't know.
Was at the digestive doctor this past week. He's a very nice man. Been going to him since the early 1990s. He gives me free medicine. It only lasts a few weeks, but hey, that's like putting money in my pocket.
Generally, he's an upbeat kind of person, but this time he was low. You see, I'm not his only patient who has crumbled under the current economic collapse. He has dozens of them. Literally. And because there are so many people he knows personally who are in trouble, he favors the current health care reforms being proposed in Washington. I didn't go into details with him about them. I'm not sure I am.
It's not that I don't acknowledge the current system of health care in the United States s*cks so bad it's nearly incomprehensible as it is I just don't trust anyone to do it right. I don't trust politicians and I don't trust insurance carriers. I would trust the doctors and nurses, but they have no real power to make decisions. They can treat patients, but only within the limits set by government, insurance, and administrators.
The concept of requiring people to buy health insurance bothers me. People like me just cannot afford it. So what will government do when we don't buy it? Fine us. Brilliant thinking. Like the banks who punish people who can't afford to pay credit card bills. They raise the interest rate, thereby increasing the payments. It's just another way to torture the poor and say it's their own fault.
The theory is that for those who cannot really afford to pay for health care, subsidies will be provided. Right. I know what kind of health care that is. I've got it now. I simply don't believe in it. It will not work, but it will make a lot of people feel self-satisfied that they did something and now don't have to do anything else.
My attitude is you don't have to do anything anyway. Just leave us the h*ll alone. Life's bad enough without you a*sholes making it worse with laws that serve you and not us.
People with money b*itch and complain how people like me cost them so much money with our poor health and no health insurance. Bullsh*t! The free medicine my doctor gives me? The pharmaceutical companies get huge tax write-offs for donating the medicine. It says right on the package it cannot be sold. That it's solely for doctors to give away. And doctors don't just give it away to the poor. Back when I had money and insurance and all kinds of good things I still got free medicine every time I saw this doctor. My being poor and not having insurance did not change anything.
The insurance I "enjoyed" over the past year served two purposes: it paid a good portion of my medicine, and it was there should I have been hospitalized. But the co-pays were so high I still could not have procedures done which my doctors were demanding. I had no money to pay my portion. And so I had no procedures.
The lie is purported that people like me go to the doctor anyway and don't pay. That's a lie! The truth is, we don't go to the doctor when we can't pay. Yes, we get worse. And then we don't go to the doctor because we can't afford that. I went this time because I needed a new prescription. Don't know what it cost me, but the plan is to use some of our housing money to pay for it.
I went two years with four broken teeth because I had no insurance or money to get them fixed. When I got insurance I went. Higher insurance premiums for everyone else? Why? Turns out insurance hardly covered anything at all and I wound up spending the entire spring tax return on my teeth. Bad insurance does not save poor people anything. It gives them a false sense of hope which is dashed when they get their bill.
Life in America is about money. If you have it, you will do well. If you don't, you become a tool for the Democrats and a burden to Republicans. I resent being a tool, but it is the Republicans who truly offend me. They claim they are "God's party" because they are anti-abortion. But this is what God says "his people", regardless of race, creed, or religion, are like:
But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such there is no law.
That is from Galatians, chapter five. Be honest now. Does any of that remind you of Republicans, or Democrats, or any other political group? It doesn't me. I see none of that in the Republican Party. They show hate, anger, strife, impatience, meanness, cruelty, disloyalty, harshness, reckless abandon. And all they want are more laws.
They're certainly not god-like. Which leaves who to resemble?
No matter. In just over a week I enter the next phase of my demise.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
What's a Man to Do
In a poetry mood today. Wrote one for one blog, and now this one, too. Trying to get in touch with feelings, I guess.
My poetry is not the best. Hopefully, it's not the worst. I tend to maintain the same cadences, so all of my poems eventually sound the same, I suppose. Doesn't matter. Poetry is a direct expression of the heart - when it works. This one only kind of works. It didn't express everything I wanted, but I'm not up to revising it. It's a first go. Seldom will I revise a poem.
What's a Man to Do
by Bevie James
There was a time when I was young and fate was in my fingers
That time is gone now, long since past, yet memory still lingers
Young and strong, invincible, that’s what I was in youth
Now old and feeble, that I am, at last I face the truth
When hope was something I wore each day, I did not fear the days
Now hope is stretched, and needs are strong, I cannot find my way
To trade today for yesterday, sometimes I think I would
But I knew not then what I know now, there’s no way that I could
Suffering life’s realities, that’s what aging means
Hope, belief in one’s own strength, from that is what I’m weaned
Though cynically I face my life, a spark of life remains
For hope will never die in me, it is my life’s refrain
So when I cry and feel down, a frown upon my heart
I prune myself like shrubs in my yard, and then I just restart
Perhaps that is what life’s about, the seasons of a soul
Spring and summer wend to fall, and then through winter’s low
But winter warms and what’s frozen melts, and life begins anew
So periodically I cry, just what’s a man to do
My poetry is not the best. Hopefully, it's not the worst. I tend to maintain the same cadences, so all of my poems eventually sound the same, I suppose. Doesn't matter. Poetry is a direct expression of the heart - when it works. This one only kind of works. It didn't express everything I wanted, but I'm not up to revising it. It's a first go. Seldom will I revise a poem.
What's a Man to Do
by Bevie James
There was a time when I was young and fate was in my fingers
That time is gone now, long since past, yet memory still lingers
Young and strong, invincible, that’s what I was in youth
Now old and feeble, that I am, at last I face the truth
When hope was something I wore each day, I did not fear the days
Now hope is stretched, and needs are strong, I cannot find my way
To trade today for yesterday, sometimes I think I would
But I knew not then what I know now, there’s no way that I could
Suffering life’s realities, that’s what aging means
Hope, belief in one’s own strength, from that is what I’m weaned
Though cynically I face my life, a spark of life remains
For hope will never die in me, it is my life’s refrain
So when I cry and feel down, a frown upon my heart
I prune myself like shrubs in my yard, and then I just restart
Perhaps that is what life’s about, the seasons of a soul
Spring and summer wend to fall, and then through winter’s low
But winter warms and what’s frozen melts, and life begins anew
So periodically I cry, just what’s a man to do
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Is My Road a Cul-de-sac, Or is the Bridge Just Out
Been to the sleep apnea doctor. That was an ordeal. They sent us directions, but to the wrong place. We got sent to Edina. The appointment was set up for Plymouth. Fortunately, we had arrived early - but at the wrong place - so we were only fifteen minutes late getting to the place we were supposed to be.
No CPAP machine at this time. In order to get one I will have to go through the night of torture. It's been too long since I was last tested for him to grant the machine without testing. Not sure why. It's the same machine for everyone.
Not that it matters. My insurance runs out in a very short while, and the insurance won't agree to purchase a machine for sixty days. By the time the insurance will buy the machine, my insurance will have run out. We certainly won't be buying it on our own. Last fall I lost the argument about whether to keep COBRA or let it go. Lost each of the succeeding arguments which followed. Could certainly use that money now. Not sure that the benefits of having COBRA have outweighed the loss of money. That's always been my argument and why I wouldn't have it now were the choice solely mine.
As things are now, I will not be taking the test and I will not be going on the CPAP machine. I see no advantage in doing either anymore.
Looking for a place to live right now. In fact, Spouse is on the telephone with a place recommended by the city building inspector. Doesn't sound like it's going well. We checked out some townhouses for rent in our sister city, but the places within our budget are already gone. In fact, the "many places for rent" has been reduced to one. One too expensive for us.
No need to panic at this time. We've still got eight weeks before we're on the street.
What I find most amazing about all of what is going on in our lives right now is that, miserable as it seems sometimes, we needn't look hard to find people who would love to change places with us. It kind of puts things in perspective, doesn't it?
The world is filled with unhappy people, unhealthy people, lonely people, destitute people, fearful people, and so and and so on. I have met people online who are suffering. Wish I could help them, but I don't know how.
I have made more than a few friends online. Lost a couple, too. Found out it hurts as much to lose a friend I've never seen as it does those I've known face-to-face. This is definitely a crossroad year. Whatever I've been expecting to happen is probably going to happen within the next six weeks. Only time will tell what it is.
Life goes on. It waits for no one. Not even me.
No CPAP machine at this time. In order to get one I will have to go through the night of torture. It's been too long since I was last tested for him to grant the machine without testing. Not sure why. It's the same machine for everyone.
Not that it matters. My insurance runs out in a very short while, and the insurance won't agree to purchase a machine for sixty days. By the time the insurance will buy the machine, my insurance will have run out. We certainly won't be buying it on our own. Last fall I lost the argument about whether to keep COBRA or let it go. Lost each of the succeeding arguments which followed. Could certainly use that money now. Not sure that the benefits of having COBRA have outweighed the loss of money. That's always been my argument and why I wouldn't have it now were the choice solely mine.
As things are now, I will not be taking the test and I will not be going on the CPAP machine. I see no advantage in doing either anymore.
Looking for a place to live right now. In fact, Spouse is on the telephone with a place recommended by the city building inspector. Doesn't sound like it's going well. We checked out some townhouses for rent in our sister city, but the places within our budget are already gone. In fact, the "many places for rent" has been reduced to one. One too expensive for us.
No need to panic at this time. We've still got eight weeks before we're on the street.
What I find most amazing about all of what is going on in our lives right now is that, miserable as it seems sometimes, we needn't look hard to find people who would love to change places with us. It kind of puts things in perspective, doesn't it?
The world is filled with unhappy people, unhealthy people, lonely people, destitute people, fearful people, and so and and so on. I have met people online who are suffering. Wish I could help them, but I don't know how.
I have made more than a few friends online. Lost a couple, too. Found out it hurts as much to lose a friend I've never seen as it does those I've known face-to-face. This is definitely a crossroad year. Whatever I've been expecting to happen is probably going to happen within the next six weeks. Only time will tell what it is.
Life goes on. It waits for no one. Not even me.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
A Losing Streak
So, it's going to be one of "those days" today. Started a post and deleted it. Been here and done this before. Several times.
Today we return to our garage sale, and if I wasn't enthused about it last week, today makes last week seem like Mardi Gras. (An interesting analogy as I have never been to Mardi Gras.) But I'm not enthused. Probably because this week marks another ending. Starting on Monday we have to shift gears. Got some doctor things to get done. Hate those.
The first visit, on Monday, is really going to s*ck. It's with the sleep apnea doctor. I'm going at the insistence of my heart doctor, who is convinced I have sleep apnea (because my heart has begun to swell) and insists I get the effing machine to help me breath through the night so I'll "sleep better". Right. Wore that effing machine a few years back. Hate it. Never slept so poorly in my life. But doctors don't give a sh*t about that. All they care about is what they know. They know what keeps a person alive, but they haven't a clue about what makes a person happy. Just being alive doesn't do it. I'm sorry. It doesn't.
Next week we need to begin looking in earnest for a place to live. Hate that, too. After all, it's not like we've got any money to live anyplace nice. When the choices are between two kinds of cr*p, does it really matter anymore? But it has to be done.
Health and home. They both kind of s*ck right now. And there are indications I might be losing my online home, too. My computer refused to reboot over the night and this morning. I finally got it to run (obviously), but I'm concerned it's dying, too. My possessions, my body, life in general, seems to be in a constant state of decay.
Oh, good! I just looked out the window and see that it's raining. There's nothing like having a garage sale in the rain. We'll be packing 'em in for sure.
Oh, well. It could be worse, you know. I know this is true because things keep getting worse. Every year since our personal financial collapse I have believed things would get better. And every year things have gotten a little worse. This year is no different. I am convinced that something good is going to happen. I have felt it coming for years, and this year I feel it stronger than ever. Whatever it is I not only hope it is truly wonderful but that it also gets here soon. I've pretty much run out of sustaining energy. Today, I'll be going through the motions. In the rain.
Today we return to our garage sale, and if I wasn't enthused about it last week, today makes last week seem like Mardi Gras. (An interesting analogy as I have never been to Mardi Gras.) But I'm not enthused. Probably because this week marks another ending. Starting on Monday we have to shift gears. Got some doctor things to get done. Hate those.
The first visit, on Monday, is really going to s*ck. It's with the sleep apnea doctor. I'm going at the insistence of my heart doctor, who is convinced I have sleep apnea (because my heart has begun to swell) and insists I get the effing machine to help me breath through the night so I'll "sleep better". Right. Wore that effing machine a few years back. Hate it. Never slept so poorly in my life. But doctors don't give a sh*t about that. All they care about is what they know. They know what keeps a person alive, but they haven't a clue about what makes a person happy. Just being alive doesn't do it. I'm sorry. It doesn't.
Next week we need to begin looking in earnest for a place to live. Hate that, too. After all, it's not like we've got any money to live anyplace nice. When the choices are between two kinds of cr*p, does it really matter anymore? But it has to be done.
Health and home. They both kind of s*ck right now. And there are indications I might be losing my online home, too. My computer refused to reboot over the night and this morning. I finally got it to run (obviously), but I'm concerned it's dying, too. My possessions, my body, life in general, seems to be in a constant state of decay.
Oh, good! I just looked out the window and see that it's raining. There's nothing like having a garage sale in the rain. We'll be packing 'em in for sure.
Oh, well. It could be worse, you know. I know this is true because things keep getting worse. Every year since our personal financial collapse I have believed things would get better. And every year things have gotten a little worse. This year is no different. I am convinced that something good is going to happen. I have felt it coming for years, and this year I feel it stronger than ever. Whatever it is I not only hope it is truly wonderful but that it also gets here soon. I've pretty much run out of sustaining energy. Today, I'll be going through the motions. In the rain.
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