Is this what "full of piss and vinegar" feels like?

Today seems to be one of those days that, from the time I got out of bed, every other moment has been so irritating that I find myself fantasizing about ditching it all and heading for some completely unknown region of the world. And (clears throat)  it's just 9:30am

And no, to anyone (any of those random hackers because no one really reads this pathetic blog anymore) who reads that and says "oooh, must be PMS" (another idiotic sexist peeve of mine)...it's not. Sometimes I just get tired of living peacefully in the bureaucratic nightmare that life has become.

The point when I realized that perhaps I should reign in my nearly seething chagrin (just for a moment, mind you) is when I listened to a voice mail from the family member of my favorite resident at work.

Background: as an unofficial part of my job (which today ranked 1st, 3rd and 4th on CNNs ten jobs with high rates of depression) I seem to be the only one here (not the business office, not the billing office, not the administrator and certainly not the office manager) who has ever even attempted to effectively navigate the completely senseless world of INSURANCE (Lord help me here...I feel it bubbling up again). And one kind of insurance is Long Term Care insurance...

[that every relatively healthy 50 year old should consider purchasing now even though healthcare is on a grisly downward spiral and it is reasonable to predict that even if you did invest in an insurance plan they could belly-up, bail-out and leave you more haggard and neglected of basic human rights than you would have been were you actually born into homelessness]....but I digress

Long Term Care insurance is a kind of insurance that you purchase when you are young and healthy to ensure that, if the time comes that you need a private caregiver in your home, or assisted living, or memory care or nursing home care (we in Person-Centered Care call it "clinical" or "skilled" care to avoid the negative stereotype of "the home"), that you will have assistance with paying for these services instead of being financially drained,  forced to forgo your home, your assets and your childrens inheritance in order to qualify for a state Medicaid program (that may or may not exist when you get to that age) that will require you to stay in a "home" that smells like urine and death and is run by overworked untrained and underpaid staff because the government, and society in general, does not care one bit about our elders who paved the way for us while we acted like complete loons raising our children to be selfish, overweight, ignorant, undisciplined and entitled little shits who live by the NIMBY mentality

ahem

So I fax monthly invoices and three or four special forms the LTC Insurance companies for our residents. And this morning I had a voice mail from a daughter who said their insurance still had not paid for June, July and...one would assume, August. So I go back through the file. Yep, there's the FIRST confirmation for June and July, and there is the SECOND time I faxed it when the daughter came to me the first time, and there's the confirmation for August.....hmm...oh, and look, there is documentation of the phone call I made on August 10th following up to make sure the faxes were indeed received by the correct department (a phone call that was never returned)......I think it fair to say that it just doesn't seem the problem is on our end. So I re-fax all the invoices today. And here is where I momentarily lost control. The fax cover sheet for starters, where I made it clear (in a professional yet firm manner) that this was their issue...then I also included all the confirmations from all the faxes I had already sent,

then, out of spite (which  actually made me feel really...really pleased with myself), I faxed them the fax confirmation of the fax I sent today....

At that point I had a mildly frightening vision of me spending the rest of my day in completely uncontrolled frothing-of-the-mouth-craziness, faxing confirmation of confirmation of confirmation and then before 5pm sending a copy of all of it to their office in a FedEx overnight package. Did I unknowingly slip into the cast of Office Space? So I tore myself away and decided some blogging therapy may do me some good.

Thank you little blog. I do, actually, feel much better.

Now, onto my next victim.....mwahahahaah.

when no one is looking, there it is

She is staying with us in the healthcare wing

For stronger lungs and legs

They called me to ask for a room and said

She will be a good patient, but her husband is strange

And I said yes and offered a bed

She is 86 and he comes every day at lunch

For a week now

Today as I walked toward the exit for lunch of my own

He was signing in at the visitor register

Wearing his usual hardware store trucker cap

Khaki shorts, tube socks and old tennis shoes

Holding a grocery bag in his left hand and signing in with the other

I noticed, gripped next to the bag handle, a splash of red

Three tiny sprigs of red snapdragon

And in that instant I felt a deep throb

A penetrating ache

A wish that I could fold quietly into the moment when he,

Turning from his path to the car

Bent into her garden

pulled his pocket knife from his shorts

and clipped those three precious stems

to curl up and live inside

a simple, pure gesture of love

I suppose I am strange too