I Won.
This is what I posted on Facebook:
"I did it. I got approved. We won. I had the sweetest, kindest judge who asked about my cats and he commended me on my strength and he was so happy that my marriage and support system was beautiful and powerful, and he really cared about me. I can barely talk, but I wanted to let you all know. I did it. I won."
Now, for the longer part.
Adam and I reached the Office of Disability Adjucation and Review right on time despite Stupid Traffic. Mitch, the lawyer, had also been in Stupid Traffic. He sat with us and explained what would happen in the court room. He said that Judge Arthur was a very kind, sweet, gentle elderly man with whom Mitch had worked for over twenty years. He said, "He's so nice you'd want him as your psychologist." But, Judge Arthur also knew everything about my case and my issues and needed no explanation, and he had been doing this for decades and knew truth when he saw it.
When we entered the small room, the smiling, white-haired man behind the judge's bench looked at me with kind eyes and told me that the chairs were new and very comfortable. I agreed as I sat in one and did my best to stop crying. Judge Arthur, softspoken, told me that it was okay, that I should relax, that nothing bad would happen. He introduced the vocational advocate and the woman who would be recording the session. Then he... well, it wasn't so much that he asked me direct questions, it was more that he said things in ways that put me at ease. "Let's see, I believe you were born on April the sixth in 1979, so that would make you... 33, yes?" And I agreed into the microphone. Other odd but gentle questions followed: "And what is your husband's name?" "I understand that you have three cats. What are their names? Ah, Jupiter, Rose, and Luna? Very lovely names. Are they all friendly?" I told him that Rose comforted me during seizures and that Luna sat in my lap when I tried to write. He asked me if I had a solid marriage, and when I said "Yes" firmly and without hesitation, he smiled wider.
He said, "I must commend you on your amazing strength, how you've kept going all these years. I know what it's like to work in law firms!" He asked me what percentage of the time I had spent on my feet during those work days, and I said about forty percent. He reviewed my files quickly, said that he had read everything thoroughly and with great sympathy, said that he enjoyed reading my blog posts about how epilepsy and cerebral palsy affected me. He was thrilled to see that I had such a good support group of friends and family. All the while, his voice was gentle and soft, lulling me into a comfort zone. He said, "I really care about you, because of your strength through all this adversity; I find you an incredible young lady."
He then said that his decision would be mailed to me in three to four weeks, and Mitch escorted me and Adam out, into another room. I was very puzzled, until Mitch began talking about how money would be deposited into my account soon and that soon after the decision letter, an award letter would arrive, and then I would start receiving monthly payments, and then in 2013 I would receive my Medicare card and benefits. It was then that it truly hit me: Judge Arthur had been saying it all along. I was approved. I had been approved from the moment he spoke with me. He hadn't asked me how, why, what, when. He already knew I was severely disabled and unable to pay for real medical help. He made sure I would get help.
Now, I'm not sure how much back pay I will receive. I'll know in a month when the letter comes. I believe my monthly payments will be at least $1200, which is average for someone with a work history like mine. But it will be enough. Even with Mitch getting one fourth as well as payment for the psychologist he sent me to with his own money, it will be more than enough. We will pay bills, save money, get me to my doctors, find me genuine prescribed orthotics and physical therapy and a psychiatrist.
There is a strict adherence I must follow: See my primary doctor every couple of months. See a psychiatrist several times per year. See my neurologist at least once a year. Prove that I am getting therapy and medical help as much as possible.
So, for anyone who has been thinking of applying for disability, just keep in mind that nothing is a free ride or an easy ride. I will not, nor never, just sit back with this. My goal is to get to a good place with my health, to get as much medical help as I can, so that eventually, one year, one day, I can find a part time job that will accept and compensate for my disabilities. I will be able to keep Medicare depending on that job's payment.
However, that is something to think about much later.
Right now, I am kind of still in shock. It hasn't really sunk in; it's kind of floating around the top of my head casually: Oh, hey, look, you won, you were approved, it was easy, it was pleasant, you didn't need to be afraid, wasn't it lovely?
I don't think it will really truly hit me for several weeks, when benefits start happening. I may find myself randomly gasping, "Oh shit, I won. Oh my gods, I did it. Wow. Oh." at random times on random days.
Adam kept telling me to breathe. Because I was barely breathing. Even after we left DC, I was tense and spasming and in pain and barely breathing. I couldn't even, I can't even, put into words exactly how I am feeling. Nothing here, nothing I can say, even touches how indescribable I feel, as I breathe.
I am breathing now.
I won.
You guys. I won.
"I did it. I got approved. We won. I had the sweetest, kindest judge who asked about my cats and he commended me on my strength and he was so happy that my marriage and support system was beautiful and powerful, and he really cared about me. I can barely talk, but I wanted to let you all know. I did it. I won."
Now, for the longer part.
Adam and I reached the Office of Disability Adjucation and Review right on time despite Stupid Traffic. Mitch, the lawyer, had also been in Stupid Traffic. He sat with us and explained what would happen in the court room. He said that Judge Arthur was a very kind, sweet, gentle elderly man with whom Mitch had worked for over twenty years. He said, "He's so nice you'd want him as your psychologist." But, Judge Arthur also knew everything about my case and my issues and needed no explanation, and he had been doing this for decades and knew truth when he saw it.
When we entered the small room, the smiling, white-haired man behind the judge's bench looked at me with kind eyes and told me that the chairs were new and very comfortable. I agreed as I sat in one and did my best to stop crying. Judge Arthur, softspoken, told me that it was okay, that I should relax, that nothing bad would happen. He introduced the vocational advocate and the woman who would be recording the session. Then he... well, it wasn't so much that he asked me direct questions, it was more that he said things in ways that put me at ease. "Let's see, I believe you were born on April the sixth in 1979, so that would make you... 33, yes?" And I agreed into the microphone. Other odd but gentle questions followed: "And what is your husband's name?" "I understand that you have three cats. What are their names? Ah, Jupiter, Rose, and Luna? Very lovely names. Are they all friendly?" I told him that Rose comforted me during seizures and that Luna sat in my lap when I tried to write. He asked me if I had a solid marriage, and when I said "Yes" firmly and without hesitation, he smiled wider.
He said, "I must commend you on your amazing strength, how you've kept going all these years. I know what it's like to work in law firms!" He asked me what percentage of the time I had spent on my feet during those work days, and I said about forty percent. He reviewed my files quickly, said that he had read everything thoroughly and with great sympathy, said that he enjoyed reading my blog posts about how epilepsy and cerebral palsy affected me. He was thrilled to see that I had such a good support group of friends and family. All the while, his voice was gentle and soft, lulling me into a comfort zone. He said, "I really care about you, because of your strength through all this adversity; I find you an incredible young lady."
He then said that his decision would be mailed to me in three to four weeks, and Mitch escorted me and Adam out, into another room. I was very puzzled, until Mitch began talking about how money would be deposited into my account soon and that soon after the decision letter, an award letter would arrive, and then I would start receiving monthly payments, and then in 2013 I would receive my Medicare card and benefits. It was then that it truly hit me: Judge Arthur had been saying it all along. I was approved. I had been approved from the moment he spoke with me. He hadn't asked me how, why, what, when. He already knew I was severely disabled and unable to pay for real medical help. He made sure I would get help.
Now, I'm not sure how much back pay I will receive. I'll know in a month when the letter comes. I believe my monthly payments will be at least $1200, which is average for someone with a work history like mine. But it will be enough. Even with Mitch getting one fourth as well as payment for the psychologist he sent me to with his own money, it will be more than enough. We will pay bills, save money, get me to my doctors, find me genuine prescribed orthotics and physical therapy and a psychiatrist.
There is a strict adherence I must follow: See my primary doctor every couple of months. See a psychiatrist several times per year. See my neurologist at least once a year. Prove that I am getting therapy and medical help as much as possible.
So, for anyone who has been thinking of applying for disability, just keep in mind that nothing is a free ride or an easy ride. I will not, nor never, just sit back with this. My goal is to get to a good place with my health, to get as much medical help as I can, so that eventually, one year, one day, I can find a part time job that will accept and compensate for my disabilities. I will be able to keep Medicare depending on that job's payment.
However, that is something to think about much later.
Right now, I am kind of still in shock. It hasn't really sunk in; it's kind of floating around the top of my head casually: Oh, hey, look, you won, you were approved, it was easy, it was pleasant, you didn't need to be afraid, wasn't it lovely?
I don't think it will really truly hit me for several weeks, when benefits start happening. I may find myself randomly gasping, "Oh shit, I won. Oh my gods, I did it. Wow. Oh." at random times on random days.
Adam kept telling me to breathe. Because I was barely breathing. Even after we left DC, I was tense and spasming and in pain and barely breathing. I couldn't even, I can't even, put into words exactly how I am feeling. Nothing here, nothing I can say, even touches how indescribable I feel, as I breathe.
I am breathing now.
I won.
You guys. I won.