Weakened Shenanigans and the Mom Report

Spelled it that way on purpose. 
In case you wondered.

It's been 13 years since my knee got wrecked working for those ungrateful assholes at Champions, a division of KinderCare. 

They don't take care of injured workers, instead they hire attorneys to avoid taking care of the people who work for them. I had to get a lawyer because otherwise, I wouldn't have been helped at all, like a couple of former co-workers I could tell you about. My god. Criminal mistreatment. 

Toxic to work there on almost every level. All they seemed to care about is how much money they could make to keep the shareholders happy and how to crap on their employees. 

They restructure every few years, spending millions. I have been told it's to get out from under the lawsuits filed by people who have been discriminated against. 

PSA: Don't work there. Not for any division. They're monsters. 
I would never leave my child(ren) or grandchildren in any KC facility, either.

So I had the knee surgeries, but by the time I could get someone to listen to me, the damage was done. The ACL graft didn't take and within a year or so, there was nothing but bone inside both knees.

And having been gaslighted (gaslit?) by several doctors by then, and more or less by my own lawyer I resolved to just live with the pain and decided against pursuing a knee replacement later on. I am just not willing to go through any of that again.

But going through the amount of pain I have on a daily basis isn't a great deal of fun. In case you wondered. Add to that my arthritis in my ankles and other stuff going on and I have to assume that my warranty has expired. My back hurts. I take Excedrin, although under the maximum amount. I'm not trying to blow up my liver.

It's exhausting. 
That's worse than the discomfort, really. 
Perpetually wiped out is not a fun way to live.

I have other things going on as well, but that's enough.

Lots of people have it worse. I'm still able to work and do the laundry. Although I need breaks during those things. 

Anyway. This weekend Lyssa and Mason were here to do some dyeing. 
They went out to breakfast with Eric and I stayed home and got ready to mix dyes and found the things I needed for our projects. They were here until around 1, then we had to go do the grocery shopping. By the time we were finished with that, I was finished, too. Then I moaned and groaned and made barky noises every time I had to get up and walk around, lol. It sucks, but it's also humorous. Both of us are barking these days. Amazing how fast 'someday getting old' catches ya!

I had been wanting to try some reverse dye, which is just using bleach to discharge color from a garment and then dye those sections a different color. I have a chemical called Bleach Stop that you're supposed to use after bleaching because otherwise the chlorine in the bleach just keeps breaking down fibers. Your shirt or whatever you're dyeing will end up with holes in it. Not what you want after putting in all that work.

I wasn't happy with the results of the discharge dye. 
An aside here, every couple weeks I see a query on social media asking for information about how to remove bleach stains.

Sorry Charlie, those aren't stains, those are spots where the color died and you'll never get it back. 

So today I tried re-bleaching the black t shirt. It did lose a bit more color, but still not enough that I can over-dye and have the new colors actually show up. A bit disappointing. But since I ordered the long sleeved shirts to wear under my work tees, the way the shirt turns out isn't that important, no one will see it.

I also tried a new design under ice, so it will be tomorrow or the next day before the ice melts and I see how that turns out. I still have dye (A LOT of dye) so I'll be doing a couple more shirts, one gigantic big men's shirt for sleeping, one blue that I don't like so I'm adding a spiral and using black and a different blue on it. 

Eric cooked for me this weekend, so that means I get to do the dishes tomorrow. I have to work a couple different days this week and have an invitation to go out to my school in a couple weeks for setup.

It's amazing how fast summer went by. There are two more weeks of summer camp, I packed the supplies for this week on Wednesday of last week, and will get over to the office this week, not sure which day, and pack the last order for camp.

I've been collecting new ideas for projects and crafty stuff all summer, as well as some things for kids to do with their parents during our open house/family night thing.

I have a small but hopefully sturdy foosball table for Eric to assemble. When I worked for the Y, they purchased one for the school I was unceremoniously dropped into and when he put it together, he put wood glue in every single screw hole. It was holding up beautifully after a full six months of use. I did try to teach them to treat it carefully, but they were used to the ignorant dipstick who'd been in charge there and didn't have the habit of trying to keep stuff nice. They did pretty well, often a few explanations are needed, but the kids start explaining it to other kids and eventually, it works.

I started my October order for work, too.

Meanwhile, the house, while better, isn't great because every thing I do has to be done  a little bit at a time because EVERYDAMNTHING hurts. I get up, work for 10 minutes or so, then my back hurts or my knee or whatever and I go back to sitting.

Haha, I'm fine. Everything is fine.

I called my mom twice this week. (We also text most evenings)
She sounded a bit better tonight, more with it than she has been. 
I hope she continues to improve, I know she's had a big fear of living years after her mind melts, the way her mother did. 

She has an advance directive and has given it a good deal of thought. I'm proud of her for that, my dad never did it and it caused some worry about whether or not she'd done the right thing when he stopped eating and she said no IV nutrition. His brain was basic oatmeal by then, she didn't want him to linger in that state. All of us agreed with her.

But she's been very confused since the fall until we spoke tonight. She definitely sounds better than she has.

I know that general anesthesia is not good for elderly people, that the body doesn't process things the same way and that cognition is affected, sometimes permanently.

The biggest obstacle to our conversations is something I would not have thought about. She's in a nursing home, not assisted living. That means many of the residents there are ill. She said that she hasn't really met anyone to converse with, that most of them are not doing well cognitively.

Her neighbor across the hall has a monitor that goes beeeeeeeeep beeeeeeeep 24/7.

Mom can't hear it. She *is* wearing her hearing aids, but I guess the frequency of the beeeeeeeps is either above or below her hearing range, so she isn't affected by it. I sure as hell wish I weren't.
So our conversations are very short.

Also, even though she says her hearing aids are in and that the staff there charges them every night, she's constantly saying, "Hwut?? Hwut??" to me. I have to (loudly) repeat nearly everything I say. It's annoying but it's funny, too. I could see it being a comedy sketch on some show or another. 

I do a lot of shout/reapeating inane information that would be better via text message.

Tomorrow, one of my last days of summer freedom, I'll finish the dyeing and put alllllll the stuff away again. I enjoy the creative process, and am always happy with the results of my efforts, but it's a gigantic pain in the ass to clean up afterward.

I'm excited to see the shirt that's in the ice, though. It melts slowly, distributing the colors like a watercolor painting. I learn from each new project, so if this one isn't great, the next one will be better.

With that, I'm off to bed. I got up at 4, again at 6 and couldn't get back to sleep. I feel like a lump. A tired one.

What I Really Think

Q: Where do vampires go to learn to suck blood?
A: Law school.

I haven't had anything to say about the work comp shit lately.
Unless I forget something, this will be the last full post about it.

I reserve the right to complain whenever I want to, though.

Of course I still am living with chronic pain and a broken and permanently damaged knee*, it's often full of water, too.

And I'm still just.. gobsmacked at how horrible the whole thing was.

*Damaged until I choose to have it replaced. They try to keep you going years and years and years on the ruined joint, as a replacement only lasts about 12 years. It's gonna be a long road. Much longer than the 5+ years I've been on it already. Thanks, you fucking assholes.

I had never had occasion to look into the whole sordid work comp business before all this shit happened, you see.

Now that I have, I'll tell you and anyone else who is hurt at work, GET A LAWYER. Do it first. In fact, it might be a good idea to research work comp attorneys now, just in case you ever are injured at work. That way, you know who to call. That will take one thing off your plate, and believe me, that's a good thing.

I am not completely thrilled with my choice of attorney, but could have done worse.

Although I think her intentions were good, there were things my attorney did not tell me.
A lot of them.
That lack of knowledge ended up being detrimental to me, because if I knew then what I know now...

I think this is due to the fact that all she does is work comp and takes for granted that people know things that they do not.

And because she's too busy. Too many cases and none of them are personally important to anyone but the person who's been injured and his or her family. There is no one looking out for your best interests but you. No one cares how much pain you're in, no one is going to listen to you unless you yell really, really loud.

Trust me on this.

I will be sending her a letter to try to explain what it would have helped for me to know.

Sort of as a public service for the next person who gets hurt on the job and doesn't know what really happens.

That they're about to be slammed with even more pain and suffering and humongous piles of bullshit. That the attorney(s) who work for the comp insurer (and the comp insurer) don't give a fuck whether you're hurt, what you need, how they can best help make you whole again. All they care about is doing whatever they can to avoid taking care of your injuries in the first place.

In addition, they want you to just take it.
Say nothing.
Go away, be quiet.
Suffer in silence, as it were.

The opposing attorney didn't like me speaking up on my blog.
They started reading it quite early in the proceedings.

It wasn't long before they subscribed via email to avoid showing up in my stats, but I knew they were reading.

The conventional wisdom about knowing your audience and writing for them was not lost on me. ;)

That post kept me from having to attend still another redundant exam.
Idiots.
Left hand, meet right hand.

The comp attorney made vague rumblings about libel. There were comments about me 'badmouthing' my employer.
Which is a complete crock of shit.
I have taken great care not to do that.
I am invested in my program with all my heart and not a small amount of my own damn money.

Is it a perfect company?
No. It's a large corporation, and there's a great deal of left hand not knowing what right hand is doing, but it's not a bad place to work.

I think for the most part, they do a decent job with benefits etc. It *is* hard to be heard, because peons can't talk to anyone, but that's kind of okay, too.

I'm out on my own little island, hanging out with my kids and doing my job. Getting paid to play.

I think Mr. comp attorney was projecting... I'm sure he's not much fun to work for.

No reason for me to say bad things about my company.
My company doesn't take care of their injured workers anyway.
Instead, they've hired an insurance company who doesn't take care of them.

I'm sure once they've handed off to the insurer, they don't even know what's going on. That's why you hire someone else to do things... so you don't have to. Right? Oh, they might get a very sanitized update now and then, but they don't really *know*.

If I ran the world, though,(or at least my own company) I'd assign someone from the company to monitor work comp cases and make sure the people who work for me are being taken care of properly.

And if not, find out why. Make things right.

Anyway, those fucking humanitarians and statesmen of the ever-popular putz and assbite Inc. didn't like me talking about MY injuries on MY FUCKING BLOG. They didn't like the scrutiny and honesty about what was going on and what was being done, er, NOT being done for me.

If me telling the truth was detrimental to them... if the m.i.t.s.c.s was so afraid that one small blog, out of millions of small blogs would shine unwanted light on his operation, then maybe he should consider changing the way he does business.

As for libel, he'd have to prove I damaged his reputation (oh good god... seriously???)
And that I somehow affected his earnings.
Again, nope. The only damages were the ones done to me.

And if the things I wrote about were true (they were, to the best of my knowledge) there *is* no libel anyway. He knew/knows that. He was just doing the standard intimidation that has helped him and people like him be the flowers of humanity they are.

I chose to remove his name from my blog because I was sick and tired of that asshole.

I found even the act of reading his name abhorrent and disgusting.
Like stepping in dog shit.

I didn't want him here anymore.

But gee whiz, I can't imagine why he didn't like me writing about what was going on.

The tens of people who read my blog would never have need of his services, and if a simple google search by someone who was considering retaining him found my blog, why, wouldn't that be to his benefit?

So when I made the decision to scrub the shit off remove his name from my blog, it was for me.
Not him.
He can rot in hell.

I sent a letter to my attorney. Told her to feel free to send it on to him. Instead, she sanitized it and sent him a condensed version.

I've always been sorry about that, I thought he should have seen the whole letter. My guess is that he's still paying some poor asshole to monitor my blog, so perhaps he will see this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear My Attorney,

I received your recent letter in which you passed on the requests made by whosit regarding my personal blog and the comments about libel and/or other possible legal action.

As a public figure who earns a living by doing his best to make sure injured workers aren't compensated for their on-the-job injuries, I'm sure this isn't the first time whosit has been recognized for how splendidly he functions within those parameters.

As the injured party in this particular case, I have gone through and will continue to suffer extra years of pain and disability due in part to his efforts to help the insurer avoid covering my injuries in a timely manner.

I can't imagine why he finds it odd that I don't appreciate his help in keeping me from the care I deserved.

Partly due to whosit's efforts, I will eventually have to have my knee replaced, when if I'd been listened to by my doctors and they hadn't been repeatedly pressured by the insurer and their lawyers to close my case, it may have been possible to salvage my knee.

Nothing I can do about it now.

The irreversible damage to my knee and my mobility is now just another fact of life. It affects nearly everything I do, actually.

I can't imagine how anyone could feel good about that.

But strictly as a courtesy, I have done my best to remove his name and the name of his law firm from my blog.

If one searches my blog now, they will find whosit and his law firm renamed, some old posts changed, and some sections sanitized.

I know my employer is aware of my blog.
In fact, I have discussed it with my employer at great length on several occasions over the past few years.

There are many reasons I have never mentioned the name of the company I work for or our location, and never connected my own name with my blog.

Most of those reasons have to do with the privacy and security of the children I care for, but I also love my job.

The heroic efforts I've put forth to continue working through some horrendous pain probably show that in ways that words cannot.

I don't care if they want to monitor my blog until Hell freezes over.

If instructions for craft projects, stories about the children I care for, and occasional pictures of my family or my artwork are interesting enough to him to continue paying someone to read my blog, then by all means they should feel free to do so. It will add to my tens of readers.

Finally, I may have overlooked something. If I didn't catch all the posts or mentions of whosit or his firm, I will immediately remove those things if notified.

That is much more than was necessary.
And shows far more courtesy to him than he has ever shown to me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And from the other letter I sent to her...

I received the copy of the letter you sent to whosit regarding my blog.

I may have removed his name and references to his firm, but I will always  wonder how someone who hurts people for a living feels okay about it.

I'm sure he thinks I was sufficiently intimidated by his blustering and his thinly veiled threats about libel to remove his name from my writings.

Not so.

He'd have a hell of a time proving I damaged his reputation. If anything, someone trying to decide whether or not to hire him to represent their company would be pleased to see how devoid of humanity he is.
That cold-hearted lawyer stereotype exists for a reason.
I enhanced his reputation.

And let's be realistic.
About 20 people a day read my writings.
18 of those are repeat customers.

I'm simply... weary. Ready to dismiss him from my universe.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And with this post, that's my plan. Obviously the constant and unrelenting pain I have will cause me to remember him from time to time and send out a wish that everyone he comes in contact with will treat him exactly as he deserves. And I know that hurting people does eventually come back and bite you in the ass... I'm sorry I will probably never know when that happens.

Okay. On to better things. I'd mention them here, but I don't want to taint the good things in my life with even a hint of the filth that's surrounded me for the past 5 years.

Shopping and Soap and Really Happy Feet

First, sorry for not keeping up better.
Spring break may be over, but there's always something to be either getting ready to take to work or bringing home from work or organizing for work.

Tomorrow, for example, I am taking a car full of pool noodles to work with me. I will cut them in half and on Tuesday afternoon, the kids will be able to build the world's biggest marble run in the cafeteria.

I've been planning it for awhile, I think they'll love it. I'm looking forward to seeing what they come up with. Life is busy. About to get busier, the school year is winding down, meaning it's time to figure out this year's tie dye week, start closing down my site for summer, consolidate all the stuff I've collected for summer already, clean this, do that.

Of course things never really slow down, do they?

It's all good, though.
You already know I love my job.
I've certainly fought hard enough to keep it.

Yesterday morning, Eric and I were out the door a little after 8. We needed to visit our local Sprawlmart, which is a task best accomplished early in the morning. Seems that a lot of the crazies sleep in or at least aren't out and about that early.

We had to be out of there a bit after 9 so I could stop by my soap lady's house. My one luxury is Calendula soap. Lightly scented without the harsh chemicals and paint thinner that makes my old lady skin feel like sandpaper. I don't know how many bars I bought. I called her from the car to let her know I was on the way, she is dog-sitting and right now there are seven in her house. She doesn't like them charging the door, so she met us at the curb. I pulled up, handed her two twenties, and she handed me a paper bag. It occurred to me that it would probably look funny to anyone watching, but I don't actually care that much about how things look.

If you were to see the shoes I wear, for example, you'd know.
Men's shoes with tie dyed girly laces. I'm going to need to dye some more soon, too.

I have mentioned my big chunky orthotics before. $400.00 worth of custom orthotics have helped my feet feel better than they did in years. Pronated ankles and no understanding of anatomy contributed to some pretty serious foot pain, necessitating the manufacture of the things I must wear in my shoes at all times.

Actually didn't notice it for awhile, thanks to knee pain replacing the foot pain. Apparently your body can only feel one horrible pain at a time. Since my knee isn't right and won't be until I get the knee replaced, something I am putting off for as many years as possible, the knee pain pretty much rules every waking hour and many hours when I should be sleeping.

Feet feel pretty good, although it's time to visit the podiatrist again. My shoes are wearing unevenly at a pretty fast pace. I'm walking on the outside of my feet and I have no idea why. In addition, there's something odd in my right foot that locks up and causes an amazing amount of pain at unpredictable times. Makes it a lot of fun to walk long distances (like in airports) without having to stop and wait for it to slack off a bit.
Happened when I came back from Phoenix.
Fun.

But I have to wear only certain types of shoes. Okay *a* certain type. I wear men's 4E mesh shoes, usually New Balance, as they seem to fit best. The footbed in a woman's shoe isn't deep enough to accommodate the orthotics.

So yesterday, we went to Big 5 sporting goods. It was early, about 10 AM, not long after they opened. There was one kid working in the shoe department, and he was trying his best to find a specific boot in a specific size for a customer. Making phone calls to other stores to see if they had it. He was busy. I understand that. I was waiting patiently. Then an elderly lady and her about-my-age daughter came to the shoe department, followed by a family with three kids. A store manager came to the back of the store to help 'whoever was next' and the "gentleman" with the family tried to say he was next.

I didn't allow that to happen, saying, "No, I was here first. And those ladies," gesturing to my left, "were here just after me."

The guy who'd tried to say he was first let his children smack the price checker electronic thingy, climb on the tables and racks of shoes and run around the back of the store like little beasts while they waited. They actually left after about 10 minutes, bringing peace to our little corner.

The manager apologized to me for the wait. I assured him that the wait wasn't an issue, I could see that the kid was trying to help the other customer, but that I didn't like someone trying to jump ahead of me.

After trying on three different pairs of shoes, painstakingly putting the orthotics in and trying each of them out, I was about to give up. Asked him if he had anything else in 4E, preferably mesh.

He presented me with a pair of shoes that actually fit, although at $59.99, it was more than I had intended to spend. I asked if he had another pair of them, though, because it *is* so hard to find the right fit. He did. And I've never had anyone do for me what he did next. He said that they'd been on sale last week. And that if I wanted three pairs, he would give them to me for the $39.99 sale price from last week. And would give me a 10% off coupon as well. I ended up with three pairs of shoes that fit for $107.00 and change.

So my feet are happy.

I have a post fermenting... it's about foster care kids and compassion. I'll try to manage it this week while events are still fresh in my mind.

And that's it. Off to finish the laundry. Or fight it to a draw for now.

Posting may be sporadic this week, Tami. Don't be alarmed. Lots going on. A lot of busy-ness.

Okay. Washing.

Settlement?

We have sent an offer of settlement to the comp insurer's attorney.

I have never been motivated by money in my life aside from in the most logical way... I work so I can pay the bills. There is a rather large part of me that hopes they will either say no, we don't want to settle, let's go to hearing on the 17th or that they'll come back with such a low offer that I can laugh at them and say 'you and the horse you rode in on, buddy'  and we'll go to hearing on the 17th.

I've had long exhaustive conversations with everyone who knows anything about work comp and about my case in particular.

Evidently going to hearing would not be in the opposing side's best interest, but you know, that hasn't stopped them yet. They have lost every time there's been conversation with a judge, and they'd lose this time, too.

Had the system just taken care of business the way they were supposed to in the first place, this would have been settled and over a long time ago.

If we go to hearing this time, I am ready.
And I will be heard.
Isn't that why they call it a hearing?

I didn't understand last time. Didn't understand the procedure, didn't know what sort of opportunity to speak I'd have, didn't know much of anything about it. This time I do.

I am prepared.

I am ready to talk about asking everyone involved with my case for help and how I've been treated.

Ready to tell the judge about many things that have occurred.

I am absolutely ready.

Being able to tell a judge exactly what's gone on would be cathartic for me and provide me with immense satisfaction on a visceral level.

So like I said, mixed feelings.

At this point, I don't know what will happen. And I mostly don't care. Either they'll settle or I will finally get my opportunity to say what needs to be said.

I am glad that money isn't what motivates me, as my indifference toward it causes me to be able to have a clear head. To be thoughtful and analytical without the craziness.

If I can pay the electric bill, and I have gas in my car so I can get to work, my needs are pretty much met. Oh, and the internet. That's fairly important.

But I have those things now. :)

Anyway, if nothing else, this has been quite instructive. I've learned a lot about all kinds of things.

Now I'm heading off to bed.
I have been sleeping pretty well since I got past the insomnia after being so sick, but did the reflux thing last night. I'd prefer not to do that again for awhile.

Tomorrow I'll tell you a funny story from Thursday's program. No school Thursday or Friday this week. We combine all our programs at one location. It's a lot of fun to connect with kids I see only occasionally and to get to know ones I haven't met before.

I love my job. :)

What did you do with your weekend?

I was boring. I did dishes and laundry and domestic stuff.
I changed the bed, something I like to do every week, but usually manage to do every two weeks or so.

Put the new electric blanket on the bed. My old one was tired and not working very well anymore. Time to retire it.
Matt came over Saturday to go hiking with Eric, and ended up staying for dinner. I cooked tacos. 
Sunday I made a pot of chili. Cornbread.
We went grocery shopping. I loaded some boxes in the car flat and can't wait to fill them up with crap from my site that I'm not ever going to use. I am tired of the mess, tired of not being able to put anything away, and tired in general. It will be easier for me to get stuff done and be a little more organized.

My attorney's office actually called yesterday (Saturday) and that really helped with peace of mind over the weekend. I'm glad I didn't have to spend the weekend worrying over legal shit.

I have done a fair amount of reading over the weekend, too.

And I'm sure you'll be shocked (just like I was) that when the ACL is torn, there is a lot of degenerative effect in the knee joint. Evidently spending the last four years walking around on a torn ACL has done exactly that... ruined my knee.

Now what I am is mostly angry.
And I'm ready for a fight.

It's probably a good idea right about now not to piss me off.

I'm almost angry enough to be irresponsible and start firing off letters and emails in various directions. A whole lot of 'fuck yous' are in order.

I'm keeping a list.
Those letters will go out.
Of course the people who don't care still won't care after they get a letter from me.
That's fine.
I am still going to say it.
I plan to make as much noise as I can.
Eventually.

Told ya.

I've been saying it since July of 2010.

The knee isn't right. Still hurts.
Still isn't stable. Still hurts. Still isn't stable. I may have mentioned that it hurts. Grinds. Pops. Hurts.

I said it to medical professionals. I said it to my family. I said it to my friends. I wrote about it on my blog.

When I said it to the doctor who performed the surgery in the first place, he explained to me that I'm fat. And that I have arthritis. (a word here about arthritis... you can translate that into 'ordinary wear and tear' and assume that a huge portion of the population has some degree of it.)

I tried.
I did.
I said, "I know I am overweight.
I know that I have arthritis. But this isn't that."

By the time I got to the third or fourth word, his eyes had glazed over. I could hear him thinking. I've stopped listening, why haven't you stopped talking? You're fine. I did a great job. Go away.

By the way, he did that same thing with regards to the tear in the meniscus of my right knee and I ended up getting another surgeon to fix it.

In the deposition I read, Dr. Slice and Dice said that the tear 'was not obvious' to him.

It sure as hell was to me.

I told Dr. Pain that it still hurt. He was sympathetic but sort of shrugged. He couldn't overrule an orthopedic surgeon, after all.

I talked and talked and talked.
And then I was written off.

On September 13th this year, as I was reaching for something under a table, a bigger kid walked by and tripped over my extended-behind-me-for-balance left foot, which twisted my knee and added another layer of pain to the pain that's been constantly there since the surgery.

I'm glad to have had an adult witness, unrelated to me.

Because the man in the smeg colored suit! And his thundering herd of Ass Clowns!!

I waited a week before seeking medical attention although I filed an incident/accident report right away.

Knees are.. weird.
And sometimes they heal up just fine.
Didn't happen.

Went to Urgent Care to have it checked. They had me come back once a week for three weeks. I finally balked the third week when the nurselike person suggested I change into my shorts (again) so the doctor could see my knee (again).

"No. I need to go to an orthopedic doctor and find out what's going on. There is nothing this doctor can do for me at this point except prescribe pain medication."

So the doctor came in, we chatted, I told him who I wanted to see.
I had received recommendations from a few people about a particular doctor, and the appointment was made for me.

I saw him in mid-October. He spent about two minutes with me, I was xrayed, he spent another three minutes with me telling me the xray showed zero cartilage left in my knee, told me I needed an MRI, have a nice day, schedule a follow up with the front desk, see ya later, bye bye.

Had the MRI.
And Monday of this last week, I saw the doctor again.

There is no cartilage in my left knee. It's all bone on bone. And the ACL repair? The thing I went through that caused me more agony than anything else I've ever had done to me, including the rotator cuff repair and bicep reattachment that's supposed to be 'the worst'?

The ACL graft didn't take.

I have been walking around on a torn ACL for four years. It's not a wonder there is no cartilage left in my knee. It's not a wonder it hasn't stopped hurting for all that time, not a wonder it still wakes me up at night.

Where do we go from here?

Well, I have been in contact with my attorney.
This certainly isn't over.

I won't be writing too much about the legal aspects as we begin another round of the shit on the injured worker game.

We've already learned that the gang of sharks weren't averse to trying to get me fired from my job by using my blog. I'm sure they haven't changed. And if they're not already reading it again, they will be soon.

So wish me luck. I could use some.

No one ever says

"Wow, I really enjoyed my MRI today!"

I am no exception. It wasn't fun.
First, I was running late. Got there at 9:30 exactly, when that was my appointment time. Ordinarily I arrive at least 15 minutes early for appointments, I don't like last minute stuff. I knew I'd have to fill out some paperwork and answer questions and let them make copies of this and that.

So I didn't get called back until about 9:50.

The technician took me to a changing room and said on the way, "I have some pants for you to change into."

I told him I'd brought my own, if that was okay. "I've been through this once or twice before."

I had to go to the bathroom before the procedure, too. So by the time I got ready for the actual MRI, it was 10.
::sigh::

All the other MRIs I've had, I've been given a headset to wear. It serves a dual purpose. It blocks out the noise of the machine (necessary- if you've never had one, the noise is incredible. Very loud and very deep. The vibration pounds into your bones and internal organs. The other purpose of the headset is so the technician can communicate with you. They say things like, "Okay, next set of photos is 4 minutes. How are you doing so far?" or, "You have about seven minutes left. Doing okay?"

What I got today were shooter's earmuffs. Did great in blocking out some of the noise, but they were uncomfortably tight. In addition, some of my hair was over my ears, so it was making me itchy. My arms were at my sides and I was squished into the tunnel, but I managed to move them out during one of the intervals when the machine was pausing and at least get my hair tucked behind my ears.

I had no idea how long it was going to take, how far along in the procedure we were or what progress had been made. There was no comforting commentary from the guy at all.
My knee was immobilized in the tightest damn thing I've ever had it squashed into. It was completely straight for the entire 40 minutes. My back is still a little sore and I was lying mostly flat on my back, too. It was cold in the room, and although I was wearing socks with my pajammie pants and a long sleeved thermal shirt, I was chilly. A blanket would have been nice. He hadn't offered, and I wasn't cold until about halfway through. Too late then.

Also, by the time were about half done, I had to pee. Of course.

When it was over, my back was so stiff and my knee hurt so much that I could hardly get up. I slipped my shoes on without tying them to shuffle back to the dressing room, that way I didn't have to bend down twice to tie.

Didn't get home from work until nearly eleven. Managed a short nap. I was pretty wiped out.

I'm not thrilled about any of this, in case you should wonder.

I know what the results of the MRI will be already.
::sigh::

But I got through it, claustrophobia and all. It helped that my head wasn't in the machine, but I was squashed on all sides by the tunnel, something that isn't pleasant for a person like me.

So now I wait a day or two, then communicate with my doctor about our next step.

Wahoo.

And because I can't just leave it at this, I am adding a link that should make you laugh. Or at least it made ME laugh.

NOT suitable for work or small children. But hilarious.
food porn

::sigh::: Another Clusterfuck.

A week ago, when I saw the work comp doctor, he asked if I had a preference for orthopedic doctors. I gave him the name and phone number of the one I wanted to see.

He told me yesterday that they'd contacted the doctor's office, sent authorization via fax and that someone would be contacting me.

So I thanked him and did my usual activities... nap and all that, back to work in the afternoon.

Today I had a chance to look at my paperwork.
And for whatever reason, they'd sent my chart and information to the doctor I saw for the shoulder and ACL repair.

I think because he's local (just about 10 minutes away) and they automatically refer everyone there... so they didn't even bother looking at what I'd asked for.

What's wrong with that doctor? Well, nothing. If you like being dismissed and ignored, which is what he did when I kept telling him there was something wrong with the right knee. I even got angry. I told him, "I don't appreciate being written off as if there's nothing wrong with this knee."

He was conciliatory (or condescending... or a combination of the two) and gave me some suggestions to help the knee 'get better'. None of which would have worked since the fucking problem in the first place was a torn meniscus. Which kept waking me up at night. And so I went and found a surgeon who'd listen to me, had the knee fixed and worried about the fallout later.

So no. I don't have any wish to go see him again. And I won't.

So I contacted the office of the doctor I want to see, I have to call them tomorrow with one more piece of information, and then I'll get an appointment.

I should have looked at those damn papers yesterday, but just sort of pushed them aside and figured it was all taken care of.

I actually have the day off on Thursday, so could have possibly gotten an appointment for that day, but I doubt I will be able to get in that soon by calling on Wednesday.

::sigh::

Whatever.

Will get it looked at and get some kind of diagnostic work as soon as I can. And I will stop assuming that anyone is paying attention to what I want. Since they're not.

I'm off

A referral to see an orthopedic specialist came my way today.
So as soon as I can, I will get in to see him.

He was highly recommended by a couple people I know and trust. Good enough.

I've been told he listens before he ever even touches a person. And that he has a sense of humor, is an all-around decent guy, and that he is a very good surgeon, too.

I don't know at this point if I will need to have surgery. (Please no... no no no no no...) but if I do, it sounds like I'd be in good hands.

The doctor once again suggested that I take time off work. And once again I said, "No. Thank you. I prefer to be at work. If I took off because my knee hurts, well, I'd have a sore knee AND I'd be stressed out. So I promise to be careful with what I'm doing. And take sitting breaks. And not do anything stupid."

He said, "You're the one who knows your limitations. Pay attention to them."

Okay. Will do.

I'm working. Sitting. Being careful.
And tonight, going to bed on time.

So that's it.

I'm off to the specialist. I don't want him to find anything structurally wrong, but if he does, it sounds like he would know what to do about it.

Dear Comp Insurer,

Right now I am doing what the doctor told me to do (except I asked him if he would PLEASE allow me to be at work, as I don't like missing work for any reason. My job is very important to me, I've worked through a lot of painful, debilitating injuries over the last few years.)

I received your large packet containing an intrusive questionnaire on Saturday. Page after page of questions about whether I've ever been on welfare, if I've received veteran's benefits... a ton of stuff that is none of your business and not germane to this claim.

I won't be filling it out.

And I'll be contacting my attorney this week and turning all of this over to her.

I was going to wait until we found out if there was any structural damage from the recent incident at work, but due to the crazy shit you just sent me, I've decided that I'll be retaining counsel from the beginning.

Here's what you need to know.

Some kid tripped over my extended leg as I leaned down and picked up an item off the floor in the cafeteria on the morning of September 13th. His foot caught on mine and twisted my knee. I didn't fall down, instead I abruptly sat on the bench of the table I'd been standing next to.

I sat there until I was sufficiently recovered enough to finish putting away my program.

I am very, very glad there was an adult witness, unrelated to me. She saw the entire incident.

And whether or not I've ever collected veteran's benefits or welfare payments has nothing to do with that.

So take your packet, fold it up into a nice bundle with a bunch of sharp edges and shove it up your ass.

You'll be hearing from my lawyer.

Have a nice day.

What do you call it when it's not from the randomizer?

Not really capable of linear thought because I took something to help me sleep tonight, that was about an hour ago, and I'm still sitting here in front of the computer.

I keep making typos. Slowing down helps a little, but I'm going to wear out my backspace button if I keep going too long.

We had Matt and Amy over for dinner this evening. I made shredded bbq beef sandwiches in the crock pot for dinner. It's easy to do, get a 3 lb or so chuck roast or brisket and pour a bottle of bbq sauce on it. Cook it until it's done (about 11 hours on low) and take the meat out. Shred with forks and toss it back into the sauce. Serve on hot toasted buns.

Of course I can't do commercially prepared bbq sauces, so I have to make my own. Pretty tasty stuff, though.

Lyssa made a rolled up cake. She's pretty creative with the baking stuff, makes it all from scratch and is pretty generous with letting me taste the batter, the icing etc.. :)

Matt seems so happy with Amy. Which of course makes us happy. He chose a good person to add to the family. :)

I have nothing exciting to report. There is a stack of unopened mail on my kitchen table that I won't be opening until Monday. That way if there's anything in the mess that will upset me (couple of legal documents in there) I won't be sitting here stressing and not able to call to sort it out.

I'm not looking forward to having my knee looked at. I despise the whole new doctor, tell the whole story and go through more of the crap that I've already gone through in the last few years.

I know that fucker Al won't rest until he's done everything he can to take my job away from me. Disappointing that that's how we protect injured workers, isn't it? I'd really love to confront him sometime. Just ask him WHY or maybe HOW he can do what he does. Maybe accuse him of being a sociopath. Or just a fuckwit/reprobate/asshole who does mean things to his dog/cat/hamster.

Ah well. Going to go brush teeth and try to sleep.

Crabby as fuck.

I can't even tell you why everything is pushing my buttons right now.
I know that when I am having pain, it magnifies the things that are bothering me, and my knee is now waking me up a couple times per night.

There are reasons I don't care to go into on my blog, but I canceled the Thursday appointment and am seeing someone on Monday. I am hopeful (even though it's not realistic) that there isn't any structural damage, but I've been through this enough times that I have a sinking feeling.

Because it's not enough for MY knee to hurt, Eric has hurt his. HIS is nasty painful, keeping us both awake for a long time at night last night and ending sleep for the day at 4 AM. Yippee.

Will Eric go to the doctor? Oh hell no.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My company has decided that we all need to wear a uniform shirt. The argument that 'everyone will know you're with company F when you wear it at work' is a crock. "They" know we're with company F because we're the ones in the cafeteria with the kids running the damn program five days a week. Not to mention we wear big assed name tags on a lanyard. And that this is my 5th year in this location. I'm a fixture.

All of that is moot, though, because they are half polyester. I can't wear it. It makes my skin break out in this fine, bumpy little rash. Contact dermatitis. The same thing that causes me trouble with the adhesive in bandages and wool and nylon. It's a bitch to find bras I can wear. I have to pay attention to the socks I buy, too. Most are a poly blend, so I have to make sure the inside of the sock is cotton. Otherwise, my feet itch.

So I let them know I am allergic to polyester. (And you thought I wore 100% cotton because it takes dye!!) The first suggestion, that I wear two shirts!!! was not well received by me. First of all, you don't tell a woman who's having hot flashes on a semi regular basis that she should wear two shirts. Second... no. Unless everyone has to wear two shirts, I won't do it.

So I did some checking. I'm actually covered under ADA because what happens with the fabric allergy is an immune system response. So they need to provide me with an option I am able to wear.

I don't mind wearing a uniform shirt at work, it's part of the job. But I think it's reasonable to ask for the allergy accommodation.
And I will not wear a uniform shirt while out and about, grocery shopping or stopping at goodwill or whatever.
That's MY time.
Unless they want to pay me to advertise elsewhere, it's not happening.

So now they want a note from my doctor.
Okay. Fine. I have an appointment for that.
It sort of pisses me off, but fine. I'll get them their note.

Meanwhile, my knee hurts, Eric's knee hurts (and how cute... it's HIS left knee, TOO!!) and I'm tired.
And crabby as fuck.

Speaking of fucks. I have a letter sitting here to sign for a small settlement that's two fucking years late. I still haven't decided to sign it. I want to talk to my attorney about it before I make a final decision.

So I'm taking my grumpy self off to brush flush and wash and then hope I can sleep at least a little while before poor Eric wakes me up with his pain or I wake up with mine.

Aren't we a pair?

Gearing Up

The wheels of the shit-on-the-injured-worker machine have begun turning once again.

I got a call today from the compensation insurer regarding my new possible claim. Of course I have no idea yet if there's anything structurally wrong with my knee, have not yet had it looked at. I do have an appointment to do so, however.

She asked me all kinds of questions. I chose not to answer several of them. What the hell do my medications or hobbies have to do with it?

She wanted to know what I do for hobbies. I assured her that I do not go skydiving, bungee jumping, rock climbing or surfing. "I work and I go home, basically." I said.

She wanted to know if I had retained counsel for this injury.
No. And I don't plan to unless there is something structurally wrong... then I will immediately sign papers with my attorney and have her represent me. I'm willing to bet millions I don't have that IF there is something wrong, they will do everything they can to avoid taking care of me. Again. When every time they've pulled that shit they've lost. And it's cost them a buttload of money.

I could tell by her attitude that she has already decided I'm lying. I can even understand why she'd think that way. I realize that I've had a lot of knee injuries at work.

I guess I'll have to wait and see what happens.

::shrug::

She wanted to know if there was a witness.
Yes.
Thank goodness.
Yes.

I'm pretty happy about that, actually.

Here's the thing, though.
I have proven over and over that I am not dishonest. I haven't played any games with this stuff. You can't fool an MRI, ya know?

The doctor who saw me for the right knee originally thought I had a back injury. My back did hurt for a short time, but healed up on its own. Now if I were scamming, that would be the easiest thing to scam on... back injuries are difficult for comp insurers because basically if you say it hurts there's not much they can do to disprove that.

Of course they send someone to follow you around with a camera if you have a back injury so they can take photos if you're water skiing or whatever.

But my back healed up and I didn't even attempt to pursue a claim on it. Why would I, unless I wanted to scam them?

I have read a ton of scam stories and seen how people game the system and rip it off. But that's just not in me. I could never pull that kind of shit. And if they stopped to consider what has happened, the medical proof of the injuries etc, they'd know how illogical it is to suspect me to scam them (or attempt it).

They've proven that logic is a foreign concept, though. And they've spent at least twice what they would have had to spend had they just taken care of business when I filed the original claims.

I am unprincipled enough to find that humorous and say that it serves them right for doubting me.

They have no clue about my work ethic and my dedication and all that. How could they? They don't have any.

Assholes.

I did it...

Filed an accident report.
I didn't want to.

But the normal pain level in my knee (yeah, it always hurts a little) has gone up quite a bit. And it's not feeling better. So even if there's nothing serious wrong, I still need to find out for sure.

Of course I feel intimidated because those comp insurer attorneys and all the people who help run the shit on the injured worker machine aren't going to be happy with me.

I'm very glad I had an adult witness to the incident.

But I wish there hadn't been an incident. ::sigh::

So I have an appointment on Thursday to have it looked at.

Yippee.