"Life is
only something taken for a moment, rubbed warm and held back from the chill…
Winter waits and finds all life. In the end, each of us stares through the dark
eyes of winter.”
- Richard
Nelson, The Island Within
I have lamented
at length before about the state of customer service and how people now work for
computers instead of vice versa. So let’s not talk about the trials and
tribulations I’ve had with Blue Shield so-called health insurance; or with USAA
bank, of all places.
Except to
say that Blue Shield was the only coverage I was unfairly permitted to “elect”
by my retirement system and, although allegedly covered since 12/1, I have paid
for most of my medical, dental and pharmaceutical care since I moved here in
November and still have no proof of coverage.
As for USAA,
they found the large deposit of the proceeds from the sale of my house
confusing and after I transferred a large portion of the escrow deposit from my
primary account to my household account their reaction was to simply initiate
an investigation of possible fraud. The bank progressively inactivated my debit cards, then disabled the credit function of said cards, then declined my checks, and finally shut me out of both accounts. A week long death by a thousand fiscal cuts. They
almost certainly notified me of the security alert, but since I had been
locked out of online access, I have been unable to retrieve the messages I can
see are waiting for me.
Let's just say that repeated phone calls to so-called customer service representatives have been not only frustrating but fruitless.
Finally
yesterday, I was able to sort out both problems. I was assured the check I
wrote to the plumber would be honored. Today I was able to withdraw $500 to pay
the yard guy who graciously waited a week for payment. As a bonus, during the 45 cumulative minutes
on hold with USAA, I was able to master the steps required to un-encrypt the
proof of coverage Blue Shill has e-mailed me several times.
Instead
of carping about the necessity of resorting to profanity to obtain customer
service, I could blog about the cardiologist I waited 6 weeks to see only to
miss the appointment by a day because I’d written it down wrong. When I called
to apologize and reschedule I was told that they wouldn’t make an appointment for me because I
was a no-show. I said that was probably just as well because the doctor was an
asshole, and it turns out I was looking for somebody with compassion.
Another 40 days to see another cardiologist.
I could blather about the degree to which mood swings have overtaken my life, but I
have no constructive observations about how to avoid dizziness and palpitations
when they leave me momentarily suspended over the precipice. I just hold on
when things tip sideways, and take great comfort in feline companionship and
hard cider. Nor can I impart words of wisdom for defending against panic
attacks, or less severe quiet smothering of all confidence in dealing with the
world. When I went to the gym this morning, I realized I hadn’t left the house
for four days. From the weather, you’d never know. It’s perpetually damp and
rainy, or cold and drizzly, or twilight at noon. Or it’s the middle of another
night spotlighted by neighbors whose houses are too close and who are afraid of
the dark and leave lights glaring in my bedroom windows all night.
Much
other contemporary social media like FB and Instagram are hipstamatically
illustrated, presenting curated lives of love, adventure and happy children; or
posters of banal clichés (is that redundant?) or two sentences worth of
pre-digested and misspelled thoughts some twit incorrectly assumed would
interest the internets. Blogging seems positively relatively primitive anyway and requiring an attention span longer than a TV commercial.
Upon
further thought however, my thoughts this gloomy afternoon can be summarized in
two short sentences: It has been a long time since winter has found me. I had
forgotten how much my mood is influenced by real winter.
2 comments:
The sky is solid gray here, as night and snow approach. Put the snow shovel just outside the door so I can make a path to where I need to go. Moved my follow-up ENT appointment from the end of this month to day after tomorrow, because this is my 33rd day without hearing. There is something bizarrely isolating about that, even when you live alone. I agonize over caller ID, wondering whether I should answer. I CAN hear with the phone cranked up and pressed hard against my head, but it's tiring. Sat through an eight-hour meeting in a conference room last week with my hands mostly cupped behind my ears — which was exhausting — and still caught only a fraction of what was said. Have a meeting in two days where I (along with others) expect to be yelled at a lot, so maybe it is not an affliction without merit. Could really use pix of new life stirring and blooming out there to give me hope.
And I think it is not too soon to introduce a new kitty to the milieu. Don't think you would WANT to survive without a therapy cat. Keep thinking of the stressful period one little family is going through out there, and my reassurances that it won't last forever. Good thought for us, too: This, too, shall pass.
Good Lord, it's a corporate conspiracy! Banks & insurance companies: ruination of us all because you can't avoid either one now. And to think it used to be as simple as death & taxes.
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