Thursday, March 9, 2006

Things You Learn With A Bad Back - Volume 12

Well it was an interesting afternoon to say the least after I wrote my blog and went to the Quacks office for my “mystery cure” that was going to send me back to work despite the fact that nothing has really been done to change my condition. I was ready for something terrifying because I was about to be sitting in that room with two people I have treated like mortal enemies in my Superdaddyman stories, and the truth is much scarier than my comic book stories. I have had no luck in dealing with the Quack, because I always am sentenced to see him when he is in too much of a hurry to give me adequate care {usually show up at least a half hour late, and often over an hour, and always in a very pissy mood} and this totally inept nurse that I have to deal with as my go between with myself and the insurance company. At this point I have gotten the confirmation pretty much that she has never once told the “actual” truth to myself, my therapist, or my employer, which left the Quack and the insurance company as the other two entities that she gathered the information from and either gave it correctly, bungled it, or worse yet was just satisfying an agenda on behalf of the insurance company. The Quack kinda settled those questions immediately.

I was forced to sit in a room with the nurse so that she could ask me targeted questions of one sort or another, as we waited for the Quack. Every one of the questions was geared in a sort of way to get me to say something dumb, but I have become the master of 1 word answers since dealing with this bitch. I was rather surprised to see the Quack come in on time for a change, and he immediately started asking me how I felt and where the pain was now. I told him honestly, and then he asked about the therapy, which I also answered honestly, that it was causing me to regress a bit. The second the nurse tried to interject the Quack looked right at her and said “Was I talking to you?” and I could see right away that it is like one of those things you hear about terrorist groups, and that was that these two might not like me, but they obviously hate each other more. When the nurse asked about when my final diagnosis was going to be ready the Quack looked right at her and said “I gave it 3 months ago, and you still seem to not understand that, and I am giving a rare second final diagnosis, just so that both of you are in here to hear it at the same time” and she appeared to be done talking now.

I asked the Quack if I could start going back to the gym, because I was told that it was a violation of my restrictions, and I was going to lose my comp if I went back there. He inquired if I still had my membership {which I let lapse since I was quite sure that if I walked in there anyway, pictures of it would surface} and after finding out I hadn't pulled out his prescription pad and said, “Oh I think you should go to the gym and I am writing you out this prescription for one year with 3 refills,” and then handed it to the nurse, and said “Just call the insurance company and tell them what gym you want to go to because it is comp related now, so they have to pay for it” and then I could have sworn I saw him smirk at her. I really didn't have to say much at all, it was mostly a battle between these two and I was getting the spoils of victory.

I did find out some good information from the nurse, because they so desperately {now that they can't label me “cured”} want me out of the Pink Mafia, that comp is now willing to get me some education of some sort {surprise surprise} and that if I were to look for another job, that any potential employer is NOT allowed to ask me any questions about my back. With a dead to knee lifting capacity of 60 pounds now {yet a knee to shoulder of only 40} I am at least cleared for the maximum amount that you are allowed to ask in this state by law {50 pounds} “Are you capable of lifting X amount of pounds” which I will consider a light at the end of the tunnel. Of course secretly we all know I will miss sitting in one of the abandoned offices or my closet here at Pink Mafia headquarters getting my writing done, but then again, I also miss earning a decent wage ;8o)

*Update Since This Morning When I Wrote This – The Insurance Company informed my employer that they are “deciding” whether to honor my claim any further. I was alerted to this right before I left work. The Pink Mafia, at the same time through the HR director, has decided that they have NO jobs that meet my criteria and that the Insurance Company and them are going to discus their options on what to do with me and inform me, hopefully tomorrow. Stay Tuned, because I have a feeling that this is going to get really ugly. In the meantime they changed my hours at work again {just to remind me that that is how they operate I assume} … here’s hoping for the best, but I doubt it … J~

Have a question you want answered? Feel free to ask this sicko! Post any question you want Jeremy Crow to answer in the comments section of this blog and he will answer it totally honestly and to the best of his ability A.S.A.P. {One Question & One Answer per Blog, and no answers will be given to things that will harm others!}

Other Crap This Weirdo Publishes ...
Mental Notes & Random Musings {Daily Blog}
Mental Notes - TagWorld Edition {Whenevah!}
Mental Notes - MySpace Edition {Weekends}
Mental Notes - Yahell 369 Edition {Weekends}
The Crow's Nest {The Homepage of J~ Crow}

Nothing that was printed here was intended to offend anyone, and if it did, you begged for it. If you believe that there are some measures that can be taken to change me, then please feel free to pray for me, and while you are at it yourself, because you read this far, and if you hated every minute of it, then you are an idiot, not me, or the other people who like what I have to say! .. JC~

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Jeremy Fink and The Crow's Nest