Rejection Is A Bitch

There isn't a better way to say it. Even when you're expecting it, rejection is one hell of a bitch. As some of you may know, I had my mental evaluation with the Social Security Psychiatrist on January fourth. It didn't go that well in my opinion, but, he told me to expect a response from the SS(that's what I've decided to call them from now on), within the next two to three months.

Imagine my surprise when I opened my mailbox yesterday to find a thick envelope from the SS postmarked the 27th of January. "Fuck", I thought, "This can't be good". I have to admit, I was waiting for this letter to come, just not so soon. In my mind, three months meant three months....OK....two months....hell, at least sit on the paper work for six weeks to make me think I have a chance. The SS doctor didn't even turn his paperwork in until the 8th of January. That gives me what? Seventeen...eightte...NINETEEN DAYS?!? COME ON!!!

I read through the the first paragraph of the letter so fast I entirely missed the part were I was rejected. I assumed it, but kept reading. I came across a list of the doctors whose information was taken into consideration. Missing from the list, of course, was my biggest cheerleader, my therapist. He had so many pages of info to send them, it could have made your head spin. They never called to request it. Instead, I had the two neurologists that misdiagnosed me to begin with, A gastro doctor that I haven't seen since April, and my primary physician. She was great years ago, but her practice has gotten to the point that if you're not in there for botox, you're not worth her time. Haven't been in there since July.

So, right off the bat, those four doctors worthless. Here's what got me. The letter said that according to the information that was given to them, that I have made such an improvement that I should be able to return back to work by 04/10/2010. BACK THE TRUCK UP. APRIL 4TH? OF THIS YEAR? Who said that? Couldn't be my psychiatrist. He just prescribed me Xanax to help me get more than two hours of sleep per night, an increase of one anti-depressant, and an additional anti-depressant to hopefully help stop the nightmares I have about my family at night.

And my neurologist, couldn't be him. He has even suggested drilling holes in my head to place electrodes on my brain to stop my Tourette's tics. I still have tics where I speak in an Irish accent. I've started a new tic where I have to touch the top of my head. He has also increased my Invega because I have started to have "super tics" where my head and neck seize up and I stop breathing mid tic for up to 60 seconds. Yeah, I'll be fine in two months(sarcasm).

I wonder if it was that SS doctor that saw me for a total of 45 minutes that made that assessment. That is what pissed me off about the whole situation to begin with. The thought of having someone that you have no history with, telling a government agency whether or not you're sick enough to be disabled or not. The day that I saw him in particular, I had a migraine at about a level 9.5. I was very quiet. I wasn't ticking much because my migraine is my tic when I have one. The whole situation just frustrates me.

I knew this was coming, but it doesn't make it easier. I have 60 days to appeal the decision, and you bet your ass I'm appealing. In the meantime, it's a waiting game.