Journal: 10/13/06

There are days that just aren’t worth waking up for—this was one of them. Moreover, Friday the 13^th doesn’t bode well either.

Appealing Denial at Social Security

Bill and I made the early morning trek out to Salinas today to file an appeal of my social security claim denial. This, I knew, would be a fruitless attempt, but I wanted some questions answered and I had to complete this step before I could qualify for general assistance from Monterey County. I chose the morning hour because I work today at the front desk in the afternoon and couldn’t afford to be late, and usually getting to the Social Security office early guarantees a quick in-out timeframe.

The main question I had to ask was: Why was my original claim application put under Joann’s name? The answer was surprising, if a little disconcerting. Apparently, since my original disability in June of 1997, I hadn’t been on the government’s radar. As far as they were concerned, I haven’t worked since then, and certainly at no job where taxes were withheld. Joann’s own social security was more recent, and I was entitled to it when I turned sixty anyway. To qualify on my own behalf, I would have had to work (on their watch) within a five-year time-period from the date of application.

As for the denial of my claim—no matter how sick I am I can’t be working at any type of job making any type of income. This puts me in something of a quandary. Social Security won’t even look at my medical results, which, (the doctors who examined me said) qualify me for disability payments and medical support (Medicare), unless I live in a shelter. Catch-22. I’m too old to start living on the streets and have adjusted to the concept that running water and a toilet are things no one needs to have to hunt for daily in city parks. Summation: I’m not giving up my home for the right to be sick. As it is, I already have to pay for taking a sick day because that day doesn’t go against my rent.

Frustrated and Ineffectual

So, the events of the day has left me feeling frustrated, ineffectual and a little angry. The frustrated part comes from knowing the end result of the endeavor, if not the reason. The ineffectual part comes from knowing I’m unable to turn the course of future attempts to my advantage without putting myself at a large disadvantage first. Obviously, having a stable roof and functioning toilet are going to win out over physical pain, leastways for the next couple of years or until something puts me in the hospital again.

The anger part is just the idea that I’ve had to go through all this in the first place. On a working day. On Friday the Thirteenth.

At least I did complete the last requirement for my general assistance application to the County and that should be coming through shortly. The additional money will help pay for some badly needed medications and other necessities I can’t get any other way without begging from friends.