Silver and Gold

     In my last posting, I said I had been doing little but "lazying around like a slug." Not completely true.  While I certainly have been un-ambitious on lots of fronts, I have been very diligent in maintaining something of tremendous importance: friendships.
     I spent a couple of days in the City with a dear and long-time friend (and I do mean "long" -- she was my attendant at my nearly-30-years-ago wedding) from New Hampshire.  Although we hadn't seen each other in years, we didn't skip a beat, just plunged back into our friendship as if not a day had passed. Calls, letters and e-mails have flown back and forth since, constantly refreshing and reinforcing our closeness.


Self-portrait with Deb and Monarchs

      I had lunch with a long-lost friend and co-worker, found through Facebook. We caught up on work friends, spouses (new, ex and same-ol'), plans, adventures, and, above all, we re-discovered the links that had made us friends in the first place.  Many more lunches are in the works.
     I hijacked my best friend for a road trip to Monterey Bay where we crossed something off my bucket list by seeing the over-wintering monarch butterflies. Even though we were too late in the season for the masses of monarchs I'd been hoping for,  it was still pretty impressive -- and a wonderful girls' day out (plus da kine manapua and spam musubi: ono!).
     I exchange phone calls with friends far away -- pals from our Hawaii days, now in New Mexico; my husband's sister and my heart's friend in western New York -- and near at hand -- former co-workers with whom I have a special, far-beyond-work bond; chance acquaintances who've become dear companions. We plan future get-togethers, we reminisce about the past, we meet for drinks, they come over for dinner, we go off on adventures, we just talk.  They give me support and understanding and hope.
     In other words, we are friends.
     Many, many years ago when I was a youngster at Girl Scout camp, we used to sing a song around the campfire, a lovely little three part round that stays on my mind and in my heart: "Make new friends," it went, "But keep the old./ One is silver and the other gold."
         

Fun and Games with Social Security

     Well, today I had my official appointment with Social Security to sign up for disability and Medicare.  I have to admit, I did not have high hopes.
     My SS experience did not start out well: misinformation, misunderstanding and downright rudeness from reps at my local office, both in person and on the phone.  No, said one during my preliminary in-person interview, you do not get Medicare immediately, ALS or no. Yes, said another, to whom I spoke on the phone trying to rectify First Guy's error, you do get Medicare right away, but only after your disability case has been "adjudicated," which can often take up two years.  Yes, he emphasized, two years, even for ALS: "I've seen that happen often, ma'am."   No, he then argued, most emphatically, I did not ask the question I thought I asked, but the one he wanted to answer. Two years. Absolutely.
    I hung up hyperventilating.
    So, even though I was armed with all requested documents and full medical reports, I was fairly pessimistic about today's visit.  Luckily, I was quickly proven wrong.
    I met with Amy, a cordial, professional and very helpful young woman who offered nothing but encouragement.  She looked through my on-line claim, reviewed the other paperwork I had brought, told me about options, praised me for the completeness and thoroughness of my application and documentation, told me Medicare would automatically go into effect as soon as disability was approved, and assured me my case would be reviewed as promptly as possible.
    She was even very apologetic when she explained the time frame for review: I may not get a notification for as much as 120 days.
    Some two years.
    A couple of tips for SS staff everywhere: 1) try to be like Amy, and 2) never, never tell someone with ALS they have to wait two years for your help. They may not have that long to live, and your insistence amounts to nothing less than cruelty.