With the changing of the new year came new parity laws with insurance. Earlier in the year I mentioned, with humor to my supervisor, with chagrin to my coworkers and with dread to my husband - this affects only me. Only my job and my stress levels.
And it did. Four weeks in dreary gray of January I sped and bled like a speed demon on the devil track, attempting to get insurance to bend to my will. To make their bed with our company, with our sickest clients. Most refused. A few of the nicer ones - and within the first minute I could usually tell which ones still cared - admitted that 30 years of depression isn't taken care of in 12 three hour groups.
And I cared for the clients when I let myself think about it - because of all the things to inhibit their improvement, insurance shouldn't be the biggest. But often enough, it is. Men with sex addictions and past trauma and a failing job and rising debt should not have to deal with disenchanted wives and impervious insurance companies. And lord knows I wouldn't dare try to approach the wife, but the insurance company has no right, dammit, to get involved! To even presume they knew what is best is ridiculous.
One week I got so incensed that my supervisor had to come in and calm both me and the insurance dog down over speaker. And many weeks I cried.
I didn't realize that the stress of my job bled into the halls until, four months in, I calculated that about 10 of my therapists and coworkers had asked what I did for stress management. Of course, that was a very therapist-y thing to say. I got a cat, listened to audio books, went to plays, watched movies, read crappy romance novels, and ate lots of sugar. I joined two book clubs, a writer's workshop and a yoga class. The downtown public library is surprisingly clean and organized for taking up a whole block, and this helps me soak in the calm that a library always seems to emanate. And the yoga class made me feel as calm as I feel when I visit my childhood home back in southwest Kansas, where the closest neighbor is a mile or so away and even the trees try not to disrupt the flat landscape. I didn't think that calm was something that could be found in the midst of big city skyscraper mess. But it seems I've found a place in it's lap. Or I'm getting more familiar with it, as time goes by. And slowly I am getting into a rhythm with insurance and the new laws.
Part of me hates my job, or maybe all of me hates my job part of the time. Then other days I love fighting for justice. Giving people the green light that they can change their situation, if they are brave enough to face their demons. Sometimes outside forces, like insurance, are the only thing that's keeping a person from doing that. That's where I come in, to fight for them. And after reading progress notes week after week on some client's situation, I would rather face the insurance demons anyday than the personal demons that others face. I've had a bit of a wonderful life; it seems okay that I take on a little stress so those who haven't had it so lucky can find a bit of happiness.
And if it means that I am then justified in indulging myself in extra sugar and as many crappy romances as I want, then so be it.
5 comments:
I read this post and found it (1) advances praiseworthy thoughts and (2) expresses ideas in a unique and skillful way and (3) caused a big course HA! to thunder up from my belly.* It may not be the first post I've ever triple-liked, but there can't be more than one or two others.
*Yes, the concluding remark about crappy romance novels and sugar got me. It may have been an entirely inappropriate thing for me to HA! over, but it's done and I can't take it back. If this were Facebook, Jon would probably chime in next, I'd reply with something even more meta-y and off-topic...and within 10 minutes the whole thread would be completely hijacked.
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Two on-topic thoughts: I'm glad you've found a few fountains of calm in Chicago....doubly so because something in the way you've described your work situation reminds me of Bartleby the Scrivener. It's either a very short novella or a very long short story by Herman Melville...I either never knew about it or completely forgot it until Joe Kaufman mentioned it on FB yesterday. It's a depressing story and I won't spoil the whole plot, but the last lines explain a relevant bit about the title character:
Conceive a man by nature and misfortune prone to a pallid hopelessness, can any business seem more fitted to heighten it than that of continually handling these dead letters and assorting them for the flames? For by the cart-load they are annually burned. Sometimes from out the folded paper the pale clerk takes a ring:—the finger it was meant for, perhaps, moulders in the grave; a bank-note sent in swiftest charity:—he whom it would relieve, nor eats nor hungers any more; pardon for those who died despairing; hope for those who died unhoping; good tidings for those who died stifled by unrelieved calamities. On errands of life, these letters speed to death.
Super-depressing, right? But I mention it because I want to encourage you to keep writing. While the subject matter in your post isn't all sunshine and lollipops, I've certainly never known either you or Melville to be "prone to a pallid hopelessness." What you decided to write about this stuff is in no way like a dead letter...it speeds to life.
You do good work. Keep at it and don't let the bastards grind you down.
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Now, where's Jon? There's no way I can hijack this thing by myself.
Angie,
This post, in my opinion, communicates to me two things: your heart and actions to help the oppressed, and the subsequent burden this lays upon you.
It sounds like you are doing your best to be a voice for these people.
"The wicked frustrate the plans of the oppressed, but the Lord will protect his people." (Psalm 14:6)
"You stand up to judge those who do evil, O God, and to rescue the oppressed of the earth." (Psalm 76:9)
"He gives justice to the oppressed and food to the hungry. The Lord frees the prisoners." (Psalm 146:7)
Peace to you.
Dave
Hey darlin. Glad you found the public library to be somewhat of a solace...I always find peace amongst books (albeit more often amongst a clean and organized place of books). You have a big, deep heart, and care about those who are trying to get a leg up on their lives. And obviously you know the stress you feel and sometimes hate some moments in your job. But don't overlook the importance of self care - whether it's an easy read with a crappy romance novel, or a handful of reese's chocolate easter eggs (my recent coping sugar of choice), or a snuggle with your kitty.
And I agree with Doc, don't let the bastards get you down.
I am so proud to be your mother-in-law!!! You are the only person I know who can look at filing insurance claims and recognize it as a work of justice. What an awesome woman you are!
I wanted to add this to my post from yesterday . . .
Jeremiah 22:16 "He defended the cause of the poor and needy, and so all went well. Is that not what it means to know me?" declares the LORD.
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