Da Goddess

Not that we were, but kind of we were…

Talking about things going on with me, that is. (See previous post. No, I’m not going to link it. You can scroll down the page. You can! I know you can.)

Physical therapy has been both awesome and brutal. I’m working harder than I thought I’d have to, but I kind of like it. Not so much the day after I do two shoots in a row with me hunkering down, crawling on the ground, and basically sweating my brains out, yet I do like it. They’ve been adding exercises, which is a good sign that I’m making progress. However, I’m not doing so well that I’m sailing through any of it without a few “you totally kicked my ass” comments thrown at my therapist. And still, I do make her work just as hard. She comes up with exercise 3a. I can’t do it. So she goes to 3b. That doesn’t work either. My knees, you know. On to 3c. Ah, yes, that’ll do the job. I make her earn my progress every bit as much as she makes me earn it.

The insurance company is proving to be a big challenge, too. I sent in my mileage form. I should have had my check already. Not so much. (If I disappear for a couple days…it’s because the cable bill hasn’t been paid since the meanies have delayed delayed delayed payment for so long. Just so you know, okay? Call if you’re really worried. Those of you who know me have my number.) They also messed with my meds. Denied me my Ambien. I know. You’d think I’d be past needing it by now, but it’s a rare night that I can fall asleep and stay asleep without it. Sure, I fall asleep, but it’s a troubled, uneasy sleep that sees me tossing and turning, trying to find the sweet spot where things hurt less. Without a good night’s sleep, I look like a freakin’ panda with the dark circles under the eyes and there’s a rather dead look to them as well. Sleep is important to healing. It’s when your body is supposed to recover and re-energize, revitalize, relax. I haven’t been doing much of that. The gals at the pharmacy said, “well, if you wanted to pay, it’s only x number of dollars. Insurance would reimburse you.” I laughed and then cried. 1) The insurance company would delay that repayment, too, and B) I don’t have x number of dollars. It was a funny exchange (I can say that now…now that I have my Ambien back).

Dealing with attorneys as the go-between isn’t that much fun either. Work comp attorneys don’t make any money anymore, so there are precious few of them around. This means I get what I get. Can’t be too picky in this situation. The one paralegal at the office that I liked most left late last year. He was the easiest to talk to and the one who made sure messages got where they needed to go. Now I call and leave multiple messages and pray the right person eventually gets them. It could be another month before I’m reimbursed for mileage. It could be three. Cable doesn’t care. Neither does AT&T. (Hey, here’s an idea, all of you click on my ads and then tell your friends to come click my ads and let’s see if adsense yields me anything more than the $0.35 it has in the year it’s been there.)

And don’t even ask me what’s up with my cracked crown. I still have no solution for that one right now.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not just bitching to bitch. Okay, I am. But there’s a point here. Despite all the crap being flung my way, I’m still kinda happy. What’s up with that?

P.S. There’s more to it than that…I promise I’ll have another post about this and why I feel so stupid about writing another piss and moan post. I’ve been humbled big time. It just deserves its own post and more thought than me babbling on.