Fibro fog, pain, writing sandwiched in between. Quotes. Sermon notes. Encouragement. |
I filed for disability way back in mid-2003. I had a back injury in 1997 and a knee injury in 2002, making it difficult - if not impossible - to sit or stand for more than 3-4 hours at a time. My claim was denied and my disability advocate dropped the ball. We didn't respond in the 60 days as required. (Hey, I didn't even know it had been denied until over a year later!!!) The Social Security Administration decided that I could be a secretary. That was their formal response to me. I refiled in February 2005. By then, I had also been diagnosed with fibromyalgia, chronic fatigue and depression. (Plus IBS, spastic veins and arteries, palmaplantar pustulosis, chemical sensitivities, stomach ailments...and the list goes on.) It was denied again, almost immediately, even though Social Security admitted that I have all of the above mentioned maladies. This time, I had an attorney who did respond in 60 days as required, and even since we've been waiting and waiting and waiting. Today I received a notice that I will finally have a hearing on July 6. Yippee. Supposedly, now that I have reached the "magical" age of 55, there shouldn't be much question. But with the way things have gone so far.... I will have a mountain of medical reports to back up my condition. I will have the opinions of my treating doctors. They will have a vocational expert who will testify about whether or not she thinks I can work and whether or not the spefic "job" that she thinks I can perform actually exists in the market place. I've been meaning to make up a job description for the job that I can perform. Perhaps it is time. Hey, I know I can write. But I also know that I cannot handle deadlines. I never know when I won't be able to get out of bed or when my "fog" will be so thick that I can't remember what I wanted to do 30 seconds ago. Hubby is experiencing more and more of what I've been dealing with for years. The other day, he started describing how he could hardly walk up our driveway. I understood. Sometimes the legs just don't seem to understand the concept of walking. It's as if you have to will them to take each step and as if you're not even sure that your legs are capable of holding you up. I didn't tell him that I have to do the same thing sometimes at night with my heart and lungs. It's as if I have to remind my heart to beat and my lungs to breath. Oh, I'm sure they would do so without my prompting. But that's the feeling that I get sometimes. The first time that happened, it was quite frightening. Now it's just "normal." |