Hallelujah

SUMMER'S DONE!

Well, if the weather forecast is any indication, it looks like this summer is finally history and none too soon if you ask me. Days in the upper 60s or lower 70s, chance of rain (of course, the day I will be wheeling myself to the doctor -- bet it rains) but the heat is gone.

I'm back to sleeping nights and hopefully things will settle down. I've picked up a stack of puzzles on the cheap from Goodwill and a garage sale. It's been years since I worked puzzles and I forgot how much I enjoy them, but then they do take up the entire dining room table. It's hard to understand, but this apartment has always felt small and tight. I can't imagine setting up a card table for the puzzle. Where would I put it?!?

I'm probably watching fewer movies these days and even though I do have trouble with my eyes, I'm eagerly trying to read more. I continue studying Shakespeare though Macbeth is taking a long time since there has been a lot written about Macbeth. I guess Hamlet will also take a few months to work through. Hmm, maybe that will be my next definitive ranking -- The works of Shakespeare From Best to Worst.

Still, the dog doesn't get the exercise he wants and needs. My legs have been doing better than they were, say, a year ago, but recently trouble sleeping has lead to a huge increase in weakness and pain. It all stems from that 12 hours of sleep a night...

And that's really why I'm happy summer's gone.

Thoughts on Trying to Rest

For those readers who wonder how I could write so wryly about facing death down a couple nights ago and feeling only disappointment when it did not arrive, I only can point to today as an example. I only managed to sleep for a few hours before waking in the early hours of the morning the rumbling of the neighbor's truck to the south of us. His schedule is quite odd, but I'm sure it can't be helped that he has to leave at 2:30am. But do we really need to be treated to 5 minutes of warmup and pealing tires as he heads out?

As I started to relax again, the cops chased someone through the neighborhood with a constant quick bursts on the siren. I'm sure the bursts of sound is better than just running the damn thing, but it seems pretty clear that the perpetrator was unable to hear it. No wonder considering how many play they car stereos so loudly that we are treated to the thumps through the neighborhood all day long. Or maybe this one was jabbering on the phone? But I'd be willing to bet, given the hour of the morning, that they had a few too many.

The pain had decreased substantially, but rolling over the wrong way was still uncomfortable and deep breaths were painful. Sleep was impossible to regain though mostly because my lower body aches from being so tired -- this is a regular part of my disease and not directly the result of the flu attack. As I would relax, the muscle twitches and jerks were much more severe than they have been in a long time. Once while laying on my back, everything but my bum was lifted off the bed. [On a side note, I can't imagine anyone being able to sleep next to me without being physically hurt as I kick and punch though I hope it subsides once sleep takes me. I just don't know.]

Soon it was late enough that it hardly made sense to fall asleep since I'd only have to wake up after a short while to take my morning meds. But by then, I was so tired sleep came fairly quickly and easily. I then slept on and off until something like 4:30pm so that made about 7 hours of deep enough sleep if only the neighbors didn't constantly wake me up. Oh, there was the usual calling from neighbor to neighbor and short chats on the back deck, but that hardly compares with the all day yipping of the dog across the street. [And the apartment owner got upset because my dog barked when he parked in front of my apartment and insisted that I keep him from barking "for my neighbor's benefit". But considering he only barks when they do something...]

But I digress, the worst started up about noon when the screamer started throwing chunks of metal around his backyard. After 45 minutes or so of that the pounding started as he broke and beat the scrap. I thought about getting up and watching TV, but I knew that if it didn't last too long, I would need to go back to sleep. Luckily today there was no screaming tirade. No "fucking nigger, I hate you ass hole" yelled at the top of his lungs. No "goddamn mother fuckers what the fuck are you looking at" shouted at the kids as they walk past his house on the way home. No screaming at the barking dogs which so clearly bark at the noise he makes. And no screaming like a banshee for who knows what reason. So as soon as his attention was taken elsewhere, I was deep in dreamland once again.

It wasn't until 7pm though that I decided I was ready to get up. I figured the dog wanted to go out and do some business and I was feeling a bit hungry -- the first time since Saturday. I mostly feel recovered though I feel pretty run down, but I know that will be cured with a few more nights of good, long sleep. If only the rains would return that might even be guaranteed, but with dry, clear weather the neighbors are encouraged to be out and about and noise carries. It's not that I truly begrudge them their joys, whatever they might be, it's just that I find my own joy in was that seem quite different. Peace and quiet are at the top of my list, especially when I'm recovering from intense, if short lived, illness.

So why not move? Well, I moved here to escape an even worse apartment complex with even more troubling noise issues, if that can be believed. Since I lost my house in 2003, I've tried to make it in these apartments, but even when I was young and healthy enough to be working full-time and out on the town when I wasn't, I've hated living in apartments and worked towards the day I would have a house. I had viewed the rental as the last step before buying a place of my own, but I was never quite able to get all the pieces together to make that happen. Now it seems so far away, and rentals of houses in Washington County are so expensive as to be out of my budget, that it shall never happen and I will die in a crappy apartment I detest surrounded by noisy neighbors I share so little in common with.

And minus the good foundation of a house I love, I lack the strength to reach out and do much of anything else. I'm so mentally ready to try my hand at fiction, even if it means dealing with the addition of pain in my hands and arms as I now have in my legs and feet. But I will need to be able to concentrate and there are only a few hours during the day when that is even in the realm of possibility, but still there is the speeding car screaming down the road, the horn of the freight train as it moves slowly through Hillsboro, the ever present sirens of the police, fire trucks, and ambulances, and of course, there is always someone who needs to share whatever is on his mind with everyone no matter the hour of the day.

I can paint myself as retired, but I'm not working and am not exactly rolling in cash. That must make me one of the most eligible bachelors this side of the Pacific. Let's see, there are my dashing good looks, my ample figure which owes so little to hours spent in the gyms where today's hip and motivated worship in addition or in stead of the churches I no longer believe in. So even if a potential suitor can get past my poverty, my disability, my middle aged looks, and my unintentionally combative arms and legs as I wait to for sleep to overtake my eager mind, I can only live with another man IF he can qualify for the same housing program I'm on in Washington County.

So the best I could ever hope for is some kind of separate life shared with someone else on a part-time basis. There's no hope for a house and it's clear that my condition is going to continue to deteriorate, So you see, one can't even say "at least you've got your health." There is nothing in my present life that makes putting up with the pain and life's troubles worthwhile any longer. I'm completely tired of fighting with agencies for 'care' and having people with files sticking their beak in telling me how I'm supposed to live. With no one and nothing to live for, it's little wonder that I lay down to sleep a couple nights ago and hoped that I would not wake up again. But clearly, my life rarely works as I would see fit.

This is provided as an attempt to document my current state of mind and little else. Both this entry and the prior have been written and posted as is with no rewrites or edits. Together they describe what has happened to me in the last couple of days. They simply exist as I do.

I Didn't Die Last Night

Well, I've been hit with my first bug of the season and I can hardly believe I've survived. I guess it started on Saturday since that was about the only time I could have been exposed. My caregiver came up as usual but it was clear he had been ill but promised me he was over the worst of it and not contagious. HUH! That's a laugh.

Oddly enough, on Saturday night, I had a terrible time keeping my feet warm though for the most part I felt fine, just a bit tired. But all things considered, that's not much of surprise. On Sunday I had little appetite. I basically ate rice and had some before bed some cheese and crackers and a banana.

I slept maybe an hour or so and then seemed to toss and turn finding it hard to be comfortable and always drifting between hot and cold. But considering the weather was changing from cloudy and rainy to clear and dry, I figured this wasn't really unusually. I seem to be quite uncomfortable physically whenever the weather changes dramatically (thus why this past summer was so hard on me).

As evening approached on Monday things started to change. I felt tightness in my chest: nothing major, just a discomfort. However, being a middle aged male in poor health and caring extra weight, it's pretty much been drilled into me what this stuff means. As the pain started to radiate out from right under my breastbone towards my right arm, I really began to wonder. But I figured with the stress of the last couple of weeks, it was probably nothing to worry about. The doctor has rushed me off to the hospital with chest pains before and nothing has been found so when it happened again a year or so ago, I figured it wasn't worth the expense.

I figured since I slept so poorly Sunday night, I just needed to get to sleep early even though I napped a bit during the day. So I was in bed about 9:30, but had trouble getting comfortable. The chest pains grew dramatically and there was just no way to get comfortable, but a couple hours later I drifted off for about an hour.

When I woke next I was in horrible pain. It felt like Superman and my heart and trachea in his hands and was squeezing for all it's worth. Would anyone be surprised if I said I grew quite anxious and so tried to concentrating on taking slow, deep breaths. But this was difficult and painful. My hands and arms had been outside the covers and were stone cold. My feet were as well even though they were under a blanket. I curled up in a ball, trying to get warm, but the pain was too much.

I got up to go to the bathroom, the pain was now quite severe in my upper back and my head ached. While the house seemed no colder than usual, I started to shiver horribly. Back under the covers it took at least 15 minutes to warm myself up enough to stop the shivering. By now I was convinced I had a fever but the thermometer read 99.7F. I adjusted the bed and readjusted my position.

By now my neck was arched backwards and my mouth gaped open as I lay gasping for breath. I knew I should call the doctor -- you know to get permission from my managed care gatekeeper so that I could call for an ambulance. But last time I had to sit on hold so long that I just knew there was no way I could do that with the phone this time around. I figured it was time to screw the doctors and make peace with what I figured was coming.

Honestly, closing your eyes and waiting to die isn't half as difficult as one might think -- but it requires both no fear of death and a readiness to leave what surrounds you. I had both. I decided though that I didn't want to be found naked so I got up and put on a pair of shorts. I told the dog I loved him and closed my eyes.

Clearly, the worst thing about death is the pain, suffering and waiting. Why couldn't it come swiftly? I thought about doing something to either ease my anxiety or decrease the pain, but what? And worst of all, I didn't want to mess things up and make it look like a suicide when it wasn't that. So I just lay there until finally my eyes closed again and darkness overcame me.

I saw no shafts of white light nor heard any voices. Actually, I doubt I dreamed at all. I didn't sleep longer than 90 minutes before I was up again. I decided that the fever was much worse now. I got up, and decided to use another method to take my temperature and sure enough, this time it was 102F. Not as bad as I might have expected given the chest pain. I did notice that the pain was least severe when I was standing, but I was a bit dizzy.

I went back to bed, but it was quite futile. Every position just seemed to crush my chest. Some made it quite impossible to breath. After an hour of this misery I finally got up and went out to the recliner figuring it was the best way to sit upright comfortably. I slept for another hour.

Waking just before sun up, I still felt as though I were fighting for every breath. I started to wonder who I should call -- the doctor, my caregiver, no one? By this time, I knew without a doubt that I wasn't having some sort of massive heart attack coupled with severe blockage of the pipes. I was pretty confident that I was fighting with a vicious virus and had to hope that what is left of my immune system could handle it.

I sipped some apple juice and tried to get comfortable. I just couldn't seem to get back to sleep so I got up and took the dog out for a leak. Walking was horrendous and I couldn't get him to go slow enough. We made it back inside and I settled back in but couldn't manage to find sleep.

I managed to down my meds at the usual time and then waited a bit to cancel the electrician from coming in a few hours. I then tried my caregiver at his office, but they said he'd called in ill again today, so I left a message for his wife figuring I didn't want to be the one to wake him if were sleeping. She left me a message which I got a numbers of hour later saying that he basically had a chest cold, headache and was coughing a bit. So it was clear we were affected quite differently if it is his bug I shared.

Shortly after leaving her a message, I fell asleep in the chair and finally stayed asleep for about 3 hours. Oh, if only the neighbors could have been quiet and not woken me for once! But I felt a bit better -- the fever felt less incendiary and the grip on my chest had lessened. I found I could even move around in the chair comfortably. But it was too damn bright to try and sleep in it again, so now I figured it was off to bed.

Sure enough, 5 hours of sleep and the worst had passed. I even ate a bit of chicken soup when I took my meds this evening. I watched a movie and got the dog out again for some more complete relief. I think it's time to feed him and head to bed for the night. I just hope I sleep well. I still have some minor body aches and feel unnaturally warm, my neck is rather stiff and deep breaths are still painful, but otherwise it's hard to believe that a short 12 hours ago I thought for sure I was dying.

I'll need to sleep well for the next couple of days and let my body finish getting rid of whatever has attacked me. If my caregiver was well, I might even rush off to the doctor in the next day or so to see if she's got any good test for this heart of mine. I can't help but wonder if it hasn't been damaged somehow during this attack. Additionally the key veins and arteries in and out as well as the place where the trachea splits towards each long seem to have been impacted though oddly enough I haven't coughed once nor do I feel like my lungs have fluid in them.

I wish I could report that I feel a new zest for life and feel lucky that I made it but alas, it's more like disappointment since I know that I've missed a chance to abandon this life I don't enjoy living. There hardly seems to be a reason to rush off to the doctor since she won't be able to give me a flu shot until I've been over this for some time and she can't write a prescription that will make my apartment quieter or safer. Well, maybe I will share a bit more about that tomorrow -- I think I need to go to sleep quite soon. I'm very tired.

Doing a bit better

Even though it was hotter than hell in Hillsboro today, I think I'm finally getting much needed sleep. A good 12 hours on Monday and almost as much today. I would have probably gotten a bit more except someone came banging on a door -- I don't know if it was mine or the neighbors' since no one was at mine. But I know it wasn't a hallucination since Robin was barking loudly and quite upset.

Didn't do much -- couldn't do much -- due to the heat. Watered the garden and that was about it. Poor Robin is quite uncomfortable as well. During the day he was constantly changing position and getting up and plopping down again. As long as he doesn't look at me though when he pants, I don't have any but pity for him.

Well, not much else to say at this point. I'm actually tired enough that I want to go to bed fairly soon. It's pretty incredible, but I do go to bed about the same time every night if left to my own devices.

Oh, the one other thing I wanted to record was that I've been having a bit more trouble with dizziness, especially when working in the garden as of late. I believe it is also related to the lack of sleep. And actually, just about everything is affected by it one way or the other. So I've come up with a plan and will have to see if how it works out.

I don't think it will cool down much tonight, so tomorrow will be a rough day. Oh, my legs are in horrible shape from the itching -- I don't know why, but now whenever I get a mosquito bite it turns a horrible shade of black.

VCS Returns

It's clear that I will be unable to escape a return of Villa Crappy Syndrome (VCS). It is much as I feared and tried to warn people about -- construction, heat, noise, fireworks, airshow -- all take a very terrible toll on my health. It's clear no one wants to hear about it since they feel there is nothing they can do and heaven forbid my poor health should cause them any discomfort.

It's been made quite clear to me that it's horrible form to talk about one's own problems -- we are only allowed to brag about how we overcome them. And of course we must always brag about how much money we spend on the stuff that counters unhappiness. My job is listen indulgently and suffer miserably in silence always pretending that other's happiness more than makes up for my lack of any.

No more sleeping for 12 hours. No more waking up free of pain. Instead I fight for 4 - 6 hours of sleep a night though to get that I seem to have to spend at least 12 hours in bed. The pain has spread up my legs and I even woke up with it in my hands.

More problematic is the return to hallucinations and terrifying dreams. If I don't keep my mind well occupied, it screams along with conversations, stories, sounds, all sorts of non-existent stimuli. It reminds me a lot of when my family was here last year and we went out for dinner late. They would return me home past my bedtime after being at The Grand Lodge with the omnipresent loud music and I would try to go to sleep and could. I would see non-stop flashing lights, much like being at a disco, even though there is nothing other than tasteful dining lighting at The Grand Lodge.

I learned then that all the input does something to my brain -- most likely aggravated by at least one or more of the medications I take daily -- which basically causes a type of overload. It then continues to process for some time. I also learned that if I did something like watch a movie for a couple of hours, I could 'come down' and have a better chance to sleep.

It's now my belief that summertime provides a similar abundance of stimulation -- fireworks, running fans, screaming freaks, barking dogs, screeching children, coughing neighbors, etc. It's not as severe as going to Grand Lodge, but it is definately present.

Such feelings then tend to be followed by terrible sleep. It's quite hard for me to tell when I'm asleep and when I'm not and then I have these horribly vivid dreams which feel like I live an entire real though equally fictious life. I have to deal with people who do not exist but with whom I have a long history and there is a certain amount of persecution. I fear for my life constantly and feel like I scream in my sleep, but I have no real way to know for sure.

It's also apparent that sleeping with windows open not only reinforces a lack of privacy but also a sesne of vulnerability. Therefore I don't sleep as well. I basically wake up frequently until it's time to close up the place. For whatever reason that's just enough 'work' that it makes it almost impossible for me to return to sleep no matter what I do.

It's also now clear that I now have a cycle which I describe as "feeling almost human" that starts in about 8:00 and tapers off about 2:00. I've been aware of the nighttime cycle for some time, but have been able to basically avoid the morning cycle by rolling over, taking my meds, and going right back to sleep. Getting up and closing windows is too much to be able to accomplish such, especially with the accompanying neighborhood soundtrack.

This morning it took almost 5 hours before I finally returned to sleep. I then slept another couple hours -- that's after sleeping a couple hours prior to being woken up for meds.

So What the Hell Am I To Do?

I can call the fine folks at Washington County Health, go off and fill out another ream of paperwork, and then informed that I'm depressed and must take whatever medications they fancy. Of course they have NO EXPERIENCE with AIDS patients, but plenty with substance abuse and domestic violence. I will have to prove I don't have those problems and then I will be dumped in the "all others" category.

The best possible outcome I can hope for is that they inform my primary care physican of their treatment so she can 'fix' it later on and that I'm medicated into enough of stupor that I somehow make it through until the rains start again. Of course then I will have to battle to get off the medications at that point -- after all the environmental cause will abate -- but since I will be diagnosed as 'mentally ill' they wil fight that and they will also have the ability to declare me 'likely to cause harm to self or others' and then what rights will I have.

Is it clear that I don't have any trust in the public mental health system? This is based entirely on my own prior experiences and those of people I have known who are in much the same situation as I -- relying on Medicaid for healthcare.

I don't know if the HIV Clinic is currently offering any mental health care or not. They've had a very difficult time keeping services available even though it is quite clear that HIV patients often need different treatment than the public at large -- if for no other reason than to avoid drug interactions with the assortment of medications we already take. I could also try to get back into the naturopathic clinic I used to attend, but given the difficulty in traveling, how exactly is that going be any easier now than it was when I stopped going?

So why not just try and get through the summer -- you know, suffer in silence -- as I feel myself descending into madness. It might start to ease in as soon as 2 months. Then, if we have solid rain day in and day out, I might be back to my normal self by November. Then I'll have 4 months to enjoy before the gradual slide back into hell.

Can't I Just Get Inoperable Cancer, Please?

I don't know how long I can continue if something should happen to Robin. I feel like he's the only reason I'm going on at this point and I honestly don't believe I would act to save my life if I had a heart attack or some other such critical medical condition.

I find myself fantasizing about all the crazy way people die -- maybe I could find one of those roofing nails in the back and have it imbedded in my body by accident. If I slap a dirty bandage on it and allow it fester, what's the possibility of tetnus or septasemia? And with all the mosquitoes outside, maybe I can also contract West Nile or some other wonderful sickness.

When I get a cancer diagnosis, I am clear I don't want to seek any treatment. If it wasn't so iffy, I'd just dump my HIV meds down the toilet or try and find someone to give them to who actually wants to live and can't get medication.

I don't have a place in this world any longer and few will honestly miss me when I'm gone, so why prolong this? This summer has been worse than I had imagined and we still have weeks to go. I have no reason to believe that next summer will be much better.

I've only had a handful of blueberries so I guess I need to have something to eat. I really have very little appetite these days (also a sign of VCS). I'm also tired of writing at this point.

Given 6 More Months to Live

Well, it's not completely, totally official since I don't have it in writing, but the Oregon Department of Human Services automated system says my medical coverage is now set to end in January 2006. So that should mean I've cleared the hurdles, processing problems aside. I always feel so much better when that's out of the way. Now it's just a couple of months before the housing applications but at least I don't have to do all the paperwork over with the landlord (like at Villa Crappy).

It's getting warm again after a nice, cooler weekend. I finally broke down and took some sleeping medication Saturday and Sunday to knock myself out but good. I worked. I got loads of sleep and felt quite a bit better. I'm also working at getting back on my normal schedule, which means I need to get to bed here quick.

One other thing of some import, as I get these damn drugs out of my system, I'm finding that I want to do things. A couple days ago I walked up to the Goodwill store (though I've yet to see one worse than the one in Hillsboro - NOTHING and EXPENSIVE!!! It's like they only have small men's clothes though it seems like racks and racks of women's stuff.) The exercise was good but it was a waste of time otherwise. I also rode my bike to the Health Dept for a TB Test and decided to ride up into the NW part of town since I've never been up there. Nothing exciting but it was good to ride a bit, even if it was no more than 30 blocks or so. I still have yet to find anything out here like my beloved Springwater Corridor though...

I've also been trying to locate some classes or groups that might be of interest so that I can get out and meet some people in this community, but it seems that if you don't have kids or cash, there is little to do. I have to say I'm not holding up much hope that I'm going to find anything. I don't really want to get involved in any more volunteer things though since I'm pretty much volunteered out.

Sleeping Some Again

Well, on Tuesday afternoon I knew things were about to change. I have no 'proof' but it felt like my body chemistry was different and I started dropping off while watching a video a bit after noon. Unlike the prior few days, such sleep seemed somehow easier to maintain and repeat so when I finally went to bed later in the evening, (once it had cooled sufficiently to start up the fans for the night) I actually did sleep fairly well. I got something like 12 - 14 hours of sleep total though I still did wake up a handful of times during that. At least I didn't have any trouble returning to sleep.

Last night wasn't as good, but it still was substantially better. It was a tiny bit harder to go to sleep but at least I felt tired and ready for bed. I seemed to wake up a bit more last night but overall the dreams weren't troublesome and I slept okay. I do feel rather tired though today. I don't believe I got much more than 6 hours of sleep last night.

I finally heard back from the doctor responsible for mental health drugs and she was neither able to talk to my primary care provider nor do the paperwork for CareOregon. I feel like I should be a bit more demanding but it's difficult when it seems pretty clear that she is overworked and I don't know if she gets any assistance internally with this sort of stuff like the County Clinic provides for clinicians. It's frustrating, but what can one expect when one gets to go to the clinic of last resort as something of a special favor because they can no longer charge the healthplan? I'm just waiting for CareOregon to say something like, "we can't pay for you to see this provider since she's not in Washington County (where there are no providers available who have experience working with HIV) so we won't pay for any prescriptions she writes."

Speaking of stupid people, the Dept of Human disService seems bent on fucking up my case yet again. The mess started when I called the Washington County Processing Center to request they mail out an reapplication for food stamps. (They won't do it automatically - they complain they don't serve enough people but they won't send out reapplications automatically). The agent was kind enough to tell me to call and schedule an time because I'd absolutely have to go into an office for a face to face (see if he's still breathing) interview though better way to explain the process is "we want to confuse things even more since we know you now do things the way we want them done so by going to an office where they will do it differently the likelihood that you lose benefits goes up."

So I called the Hillsboro Self-Sufficiency Office. But this office refuses to schedule interviews. I tried to explain that I needed to schedule transportation, that I was unable to sit around (or worse yet stand) for any length of time, etc. No dice. They had no idea how long I would be there so that made scheduling a ride with an agency pretty much out of the question. I tried to use "reasonable accommodation" and they refused that as well responding "then show up any day but Tuesday at 9am." Of course still no idea of how long it would take.

Luckily after some effort I found a friend who was free and she took me in last Wednesday. We get there and there is no parking so she drops me off at the disabled entrance. I have to press a button a declare to the whole world I'm disabled so they will let me in to use the elevator. I exited and am inside the lobby of some stupid office park type building with no office names on doors. Nowhere does it say entrance though some doors say things like "people we like only" and "don't you even think about opening this door, slacker."

Finally I find a directory and it says the Hillsboro Self-Sufficiency Office is in Suite 110 and I get lucky when I open that door though it looks like I'm entering a hallway with bathrooms and cubicles. I explore and suddenly find myself in a very crowded room. Of course there is no employee available to talk to new arrivals just a couple cryptic signs "stand here if you have a scheduled appointment" and "take a number". Hmmm, I guess I take a number since they refused to schedule an appointment, right. So I fight my way through the crowd.

After I get the number (09 and 00 is listed on the tote board), I then have to climb across the crowd to the opposite side of the room to get to two open chairs so my friend can find me after she parks the car. I'm sitting next to the copier so people are constantly banging into me which feels great given the pain I was already in by that point.

I guess I was there about 15 minutes before they called my number. I climb back across the screaming kids running around afraid they will go on to the next number before I get up there. I can't really tell who called me or where I'm supposed to go but try the only window without a poor person standing in front of it. I ask, "can we go some place to sit? I can not stand here at the window..." She looks at me like I asked her how much she charges for a quick handjob and I have to try and explain that I'm disabled, unable to stand, in pain (like the walk and cane didn't somehow indicate that I wasn't a track star) so finally she says, "how 'bout I get you a chair?" Finally, we are on track though the desk of the window now comes up at neck level.

I hand over the paperwork and she starts going through it. "You did this wrong, you should not have used the OHP application but marked that you want medical on the food stamps application..." Hmmm, I did it the way I always do it and used the forms sent to me by the processing center for the purpose intended, but of course they had to find something wrong. Then she hands me what looks basically like a job application, "fill this out." I again explain that I'm unable to work (like it doesn't already say that multiple times in the paperwork), have never seen nor completed this paperwork before, so why should I start now? Her response was a snide, "well you must be right."

I don't know exactly how many times we were interrupted during this process. It seemed that the woman in the booth next to her had to train the woman helping me how to help her own clients instead of letting her just get me taken care of. Nothing like constant, detailed interrutptions to insure quality work gets done. By this time I'm starting to shrivel up and hide under the window - the noise, they yelling, the chaos have been more than I can take. I've heard how the couple next to me are legal aliens and they have to schedule an interview to go to work and how the person on the other side, who I'm certain got there before me, didn't have a number before 11 so she'd have to come back tomorrow. She tried to tell them it was very far for her, ect but all the employee would say is, "each morning we go out and pull a number at 9am. We give appointments to people who have numbers before that and everyone else has to come back the next day..." That's quality service with the privacy touch!

I'm given a different piece of paper to fill out to say yet again "I'm disabled" and we are closing in on the end. She stamps my 'receipt' which shows that I did my face to face interview (in other words, that I came in to give them my paperwork) she staples it all together and says I'm done. I ask, "don't you usually ask for any more documentation other than driver's license and social security card?" Again, I'm way past her comfort zone here but know that in all likelihood the processing center won't be happy if they don't have proof. Still, I prefer to let them ask for stuff rather than try to second guess them and give them too much (or something that will get me in trouble since that's what really makes them happy).

I then ask what happens next and was told I'm all done, my paperwork would go to the processing center for processing, and I would not need to speak to anyone else (I had done my face to face 'interview' already) unless there was a problem. I then remind her that because of my illness, my paperwork should be 'expedited' (so I can go to the doctor and pharmacy in two weeks rather than waiting the usual 45 days for a OHP answer). She takes care of that and asks if there is anything else. I thanked her for her help and then had to yell across the room to get my friend's attention. Glad I could start breathing again, I made my way out of the office and was thrilled that my friend was actually able to get the car to the place she could meet me before I could get there. I hoped it was all taken care of and all I'd need to do was wait for the letters saying my benefits were now set to expire Jan 31, 2006.

But I went to the Hillsboro Self-Sufficiency Office so that was NOT to be the case. Late Monday afternoon, during one of the two half hour periods when I did sleep, someone calls and leaves a hard to understand message that she needs to speak to me about my medical. She gives me a number to call, says she doesn't have an answering machine but that I'd should leave a message and she'd call me back. After listening to the message 3 times I think it might be from a Karen. When I call the number left there is a message like "Mr Garcia is no longer at this number, do not leave a message, press 0 and leave a message in the general (office wide) voice mail." I'm not comfortable with these general voice mail boxes because I've NEVER had a call back from a single one at DHS EVER! I do the research and find that there is in deed a Karen at that office and get her direct number but get a message, "I don't work with clients, don't leave a message, dial 0 for an operator and they will tell you who to talk to."

So I'm off. I talk to the operator and she says I need to leave a message for Karen that I didn't check the box on my food stamps application for OHP and since I didn't tell them by the 15th that I wanted to continue my OHP my coverage would end at the end of the month. I then proceeded to tell her my experience of only a few days earlier when I came to their lovely working environment and left two applications - I had proof in the form of their stamped receipt... Well, "you need to talk to Karen," if she doesn't answer (like they ever do) then leave her a voice mail." "But I tried and her voice mail is pretty specific that we do NOT leave messages." So I was transferred to someone else's voice mail. I left a message Tuesday at about 8:30 am and have heard NOTHING back.

Nervous that I was now really in danger of losing my health coverage (and would probably NEVER be allowed to have it again since the program is closed to new enrollees and always under Republican pressure for termination) I called the Governor's Advocacy Office. She looked over the case and was concerned that even though through no fault of my own, it didn't look like they had my OHP application and even if I had proof I turned it in and the loss was their fault, if they didn't have an application by the 31st I'd lose my OHP forever. [Seriously, those were her words.] She wanted to make some calls to double check and she'd call me back if there was a problem (ie, no one could find the actual application). She didn't call back so I'm slightly more hopeful - that office has always been pretty good about doing what they say and solving any problem that doesn't require Superman or an act of fucking legislature.

She also said that she really thought it was important that I put my experiences in writing on one of the department's complaint forms so that the issues could be addressed. (Phone calls just don't get things done over there.) She felt that they had not done a very good job in helping me nor had they addressed my special needs let alone how they now had us both worried I was going to lose my health coverage.

So, now I wait for 8am. I will then start the round of phone calls and "do not leave voice mail" when that's of course all I'll get. I will just keep at it until I get to someone but at least I have the office manager and operations managers to talk to now as well. If I can't talk to anyone else, I will be happy to ask them the hard questions when I call for my grievance form.

The beat goes on.