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This is what my disability is like.
Feb. 25th, 2015 11:05 amA week or so ago, I lost the small wallet that I was taking to the YMCA. (My usual one barely fits in the small lockers.) I had to replace my driver's license, bank card, Medicare card, Anthem Blue Clross card, and of course my YMCA membership card. All of those were easy, if time consuming in some cases.
I'm looking at you, California DMV.
There was one more thing to replace: my California Medi-Cal ID card. I checked the website. After all, getting a new Medicare card was simple couple of clicks on the federal site. Hmm. No way to order a replacement card. I called the state, and was told that the state program was administered by the counties. I was given a phone number. I called it. Navigated an endless, confusing phone tree. Then got cut off.
Several times.
Finally, in frustration, I decided to look up where the nearest county office was so I could go waste a day getting a little plastic card. Amazingly, the only way to find office locations was in a .pdf. I opened that. Then saw, to my amazement, a completely different phone number to call for a replacement card. This morning I called that number. And sat on hold for 35 minutes listening to the 54 second soft jazz loop.
Yes, I timed it.
When I finally got through, the woman on the other end had such a thick accent that my relatively simple transaction took three times longer than it should have. It was punctuated three times by this woman telling me to hold then putting the phone done on her desk while she asked someone something. Friends, the "hold" button was invented many decades ago. Instead, I got to hear to women discussing lunch plans. I voted for Chipolte, but they couldn't hear me.
Mmm... burritos.
What made this even more annoying was that I had entered my SSN right at the beginning of the call, "too speed service" and still had to repeat it (twice!) when I reached the operator form Ulan-Bator. Finally, I got confirmation that a new card would be sent to me.
And I'm done for the day. The stress and difficulty in doing the simple task of ordering a replacement card has used up all my spoons. This is what my disability is. My brain can't handle that many cycles of work. The emotional investment in not screaming at this woman exhausted me. I literally cannot function in any meaningful fashion after dealing with this. That's what has changed on the inside. My brain can no longer rebound and get on with things like it used to.
And that pisses me off even more.
I'm looking at you, California DMV.
There was one more thing to replace: my California Medi-Cal ID card. I checked the website. After all, getting a new Medicare card was simple couple of clicks on the federal site. Hmm. No way to order a replacement card. I called the state, and was told that the state program was administered by the counties. I was given a phone number. I called it. Navigated an endless, confusing phone tree. Then got cut off.
Several times.
Finally, in frustration, I decided to look up where the nearest county office was so I could go waste a day getting a little plastic card. Amazingly, the only way to find office locations was in a .pdf. I opened that. Then saw, to my amazement, a completely different phone number to call for a replacement card. This morning I called that number. And sat on hold for 35 minutes listening to the 54 second soft jazz loop.
Yes, I timed it.
When I finally got through, the woman on the other end had such a thick accent that my relatively simple transaction took three times longer than it should have. It was punctuated three times by this woman telling me to hold then putting the phone done on her desk while she asked someone something. Friends, the "hold" button was invented many decades ago. Instead, I got to hear to women discussing lunch plans. I voted for Chipolte, but they couldn't hear me.
Mmm... burritos.
What made this even more annoying was that I had entered my SSN right at the beginning of the call, "too speed service" and still had to repeat it (twice!) when I reached the operator form Ulan-Bator. Finally, I got confirmation that a new card would be sent to me.
And I'm done for the day. The stress and difficulty in doing the simple task of ordering a replacement card has used up all my spoons. This is what my disability is. My brain can't handle that many cycles of work. The emotional investment in not screaming at this woman exhausted me. I literally cannot function in any meaningful fashion after dealing with this. That's what has changed on the inside. My brain can no longer rebound and get on with things like it used to.
And that pisses me off even more.
