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Jett Superior laid this on you on || September 18, 2002 || 9:50 am

I am trying like hell not to host a pity party for myself.

I believe in being proactive rather than prone when the chips are down. I am one of those buffoons that people like to make fun of; you know the kind: They believe that if they try like hell and don’t give up and have an earnest heart coupled with their efforts, then God is gonna take care of the situation(s). I am that person, generally.

The way things are going as of late, however, make me think that even this post will go belly-up before it sees the light of day. I want to throw my hands up, heave a big sob and go outside to lie in a mud puddle (face down, y’all) and let the rain pelt my tired skin.

Scout broke her arm on Thursday evening. We were informed that she would have to suffer with it until Monday when she visited the orthopedic guy. They said they’d prescribe her Motrin (WOO!) for pain, but upon seeing the x-rays, I balked. “You give my baby something so that she doesn’t have to hurt for four fucking days. Motrin, my ass.” She awoke with a stomach virus the next day, making the liquid Lortab they gave her useless.

Friday afternoon, unbeknownst to us, Mathias let Baxter outside. Hell, he didn’t know any better; he just saw us doing it when Bax went to sit next to the door patiently, so Mathias thought he was ‘hepping’. One hour later we got to wondering where the dog was and found him on the porch, shaking and bleeding. Profusely. He had two huge holes in his left hind leg and I could see bone and tendon and before all was said and done my bathroom (and some of me) was covered in blood and dog vomit. Poor thing was shocky and I couldn’t ascertain the extent of damage for all the blood and goo.

Sam, though, he was great. He was better than great. “Mom, why are you crying?” he asked calmly and levelly. Normally I am the epitome of calm in a yucky situation, but I didn’t know how badly hurt the dog was. I could just picture having to line up three little pet-loving faces and tell them that their dog was no more.

I told the vet flat out, “If this is gonna be more than a hundred and fifty bucks, doc, I’m asking you to tell me now so that arrangements can be made to put this dog down and so I can break it to those three kids out there in the waiting room.” Bax came home yesterday, limping and car-shy, but basically okay. The holes are still there and he requires fresh dressings and antibiotics daily. He’s a little down in the mouth, but hopefully we’ll be able to restore his frisky spirit, since he’s so young, and he’ll forget about all this. No baths for awhile, though, so we will have a stinky dog for a bit.

I got word on Sunday –too late to make the funeral– that a friend of mine died during the week. His name was Mark and he was an exceptionally talented person, accomplished as an actor, choreographer and fashion designer. He was only 31 and had a bone disease. He died on the operating table in the midst of a bone marrow transplant. *sigh* Such a good, good person….

Scout’s bone was broken and buckled, but the orthopedist said that her age is an advantage. Apparently if she were 10 years older the injury would be problematic, but as she’s a mere 9 it’s largely self-correcting if set properly. Whew. I wrote, “Remember to take your calcium!” on her cast. Her dad wrote, “Stay away from monkey bars!” I am normally one who advises those who’ve been bucked to get back up there and ride, but I agree with Scouty’s dad on this one. The monkey bars are No Friend Of Hers.

This morning Sam woke up with a sore throat. In most kids, this isn’t a big deal, but Sam has TS and a case of strep it could exacerbate his tics to such an extent that he could be rendered largely unable to function (if you recall the episode toward the end of school last year…that’s what I’m talking about). Upon calling his physician, I received word that there are problems with his insurance. Essentially his provider is refusing to see him, even if I pay cash for the visit. If you know me at all, then you know the sense of outrage that this evoked. To me it’s moral affront that a doctor would refuse care knowing that my son’s –or anyone’s child, for that matter– quality of life could be affected (I’m sure it fucking happens EVERY fucking DAY, and I believe that we should be able to storm their offices and string them up when it does). Then there is the completely seperate issue that bitchyouarefuckingwithMYkid and that, as you may or may not know, is completely unacceptable. I just don’t understand it. We are model patients; we don’t use the doctor unnecessarily (“Uh, my kid has sniffles. I need to see you immediately and I insist that you prescribe antibiotics”), we comply with medical instruction and advice, we are respectful of both them and their offices when there and dealing with them via phone….I just don’t get it. I am earnestly considering taking this one to my attorney; doesn’t my child have a right to be treated in this situation? Do we have legal recourse?

And Scout has pinkeye. She needed to be seen as well.

Not to mention the orthopedic referrals. The primary physician was supposed to be handling this. I’m pretty sure that they will not now. And if the insurance glitch is long-term, what then? I can’t afford it. I just can’t. One big bill (the orthopedic guy, Sam’s neurologist, etc) or short-term hospital stay (two days or less) would just mow us under financially. We could –and would, in all probability– lose everything. Everything. We are of that segment of society that is not poor enough to merit this-and-that assistance, and I’ve not checked the ‘official’ figures, but I’m sure we barely float above the poverty line as well.

We try, and sometimes it doesn’t seem like the effort is acknowlegded, that it even matters.

Today, right now as I type this, I’m falling under the wagon wheels and am sorta not inclined to get up. Days like today bring back the itch, the one that is ever-present and tenuously held at bay. On these days I want to run right out and score the biggest baggie of anything available and wallow in junkiedom once again. I think too much and I feel too acutely.

I think too much and feel too much and I’m tired of being a grown-up and I know in my heart of hearts and head of heads that this is not viewed as okay, but the prevailing sentiment is one of not wanting to be an adult any fucking more.

12 worked it out »

  1. Jo-Ann 9.18.2002

    I’m with you hun. I hope it all works out for you. And sue the doctor! But first, ask for a reason in writing why they refuse to see your child. Then go see a lawyer.

     
  2. tel 9.18.2002

    Who sent you the big box of DAMN when it was supposed to go to Eunice Stone? You can’t trust the postal service for anything these days… Anyway, hang on and keep having faith. It will turn around.

     
  3. kd 9.18.2002

    oh man. i don’t know what to say except, well, i just don’t know. yeah, see a lawyer about that doctor, give your injured kiddos and pets a big hug for me, and hang in there.

     
  4. kalee 9.18.2002

    awwwww…sheeeeeeeit.

    I’m sorry.

     
  5. delmer 9.19.2002

    wow…perhaps we should start calling you “JobeSuperior”.

    My Jett just went through a bit of a trial herself, ( broken leg,surgery, plate and 5 screws) and you might be surprised at the safety net for issues like this. It took me hours of calls, but we got her taken care of, and things look good that the state will cover it. ..and this being one of the worst state’s in the nation for assistance, I can’t imagine yours being worse. bear down and don’t let it wrack you out shape…it’s not easy, but it’s better than the alternatives. And on the doctor issue, there has to be something else up…I would certainly call your lawyer at least for guidance, see if you can get your son into another physician who isn’t opposed to cash, and in the meantiome….pump him full of c, e, zinc (lozenges) and b vities…st johns and echinacia wouldn’t hurt if he can take herbal sup’s….but you know all this.

    as for you, take care of yourself, eat well and take your vitties!!!

     
  6. laura 9.19.2002

    argh, why do these things always pile on top of each other like this? one at a time is managable. all at once is maddening.

     
  7. clayton 9.19.2002

    coocoocachoo kitten… ain’t life grand?

    you’re in my thoughts…

     
  8. stephanie 9.19.2002

    i know how easy it is to get down in situations like this. keep your chin up, hug your kids, and hope for the best.

    *fingers crossed*

     
  9. waistdog 9.19.2002

    Well CRAP!

    I’ve got guns.

    Give me your doctors name.

    Laura and I will deal with that asshole.

    He won’t treat your damned kid, even though you’ve got cash?

    FUCKHEAD!

    Take him to a lawyer, and then when the lawyer sends you HIS bill.

    I’ll track HIS ass down.

    Because you just KNOW lawyers are assholes.

    This makes me mad.

    You don’t need this.

    Keep the dog off the monkey bars, and Scout out of the street.

    If both eyes turn pink….tell her she’s part rabbit.

     
  10. G. Oldielocks 9.20.2002

    Dearest Jett,

    I was in the midst of my own pity party, but I have quickly canceled it since it lacks merit after hearing your story. Thinking of you.

     
  11. Johnny T 9.20.2002

    You can add my, “Dang that sucks” to everyone elses. I hope the sun comes out soon for you.

     
  12. April Love 9.23.2002

    Keep your head up girl! Much Love!

     

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