My Disablist Week

I had some unpleasant disablist experiences this week that I feel I should share. There will be an update on two of them later as they are ongoing. Well, there might be an update on one of them, because I doubt they'll actually get back to me.

The Big One really goes back to last week, when as I mentioned, I had awful conversation with my County Assistance caseworker. On May 1, I received a packet from County Assistance that I had to fill out in order to keep my insurance. Not a problem, I have to do this all the time. We all do, it's part of being In The System. It had to be in the office by May 8, not postmarked, on her desk. I also had the option to fill it out online. Not trusting the post office, I went with that.

So I do the online form on May 7 (I admit I procrastinated a little but I got it done on time), and when I finish I'm confronted with a page that lists all the stuff I need to mail or fax by May 8. Are you fucking kidding me? I did it online so I wouldn't have to mail anything in. And it's a long list, including stuff we don't even have and can't even get. I call my caseworker the next day (May 8 - The Deadline) in a panic - "What do I do? I don't have this. I can't get it. I can't lose my insurance. I can't go off my meds. I can't stop seeing my doctors. I did it online so I wouldn't have to mail it in." Her response was basically "Yea, well, not my problem." She did, though, eventually agree to extend the deadline to May 13 (more on that in a minute), which was something. But she said if I didn't get it in by then I would lose my insurance and "no one wants that to happen." If I can be literary for a second, the word "wants" was practically dripping, that's the only way to describe it.

Over the weekend we rounded up as much of the stuff as we could and bright and early in the morning Monday (May 11), my father-in-law drove almost an hour down to Philly to get me to drive me a half-hour to Trenton to get my birth certificate (he's awesome and I can't thank him enough). After which, my wife faxed what we had to my caseworker from work. Again I say, this was May 11, two days before the new May 13 deadline. I called the caseworker to make sure she got it and had to leave a message on her voice mail. I did this again on Tuesday, May 12, and again on Thursday, May 14.

On Friday, May 15 I received a letter from County Assistance saying that my insurance was to be canceled on May 24 because she did not receive my paperwork. This letter was dated May 12, one day before the new deadline. I called my caseworker and left yet another message. My wife called and left some messages. The caseworker called her back. They continued to play phone tag and never actually spoke to each other. Though the caseworker did eventually say that if we fax over the paperwork again on Monday (May 18) everything will be fine and I won't lose my insurance. My wife saved the voice mail, as I said before, she's awesome. We'll see how this plays out.

Less important, though more embarrassing, was my grocery shopping trip on Thursday. When I go shopping I use one of those folding grocery carts, because, well, I can't really carry anything. Most of the bus drivers let me get on in the back on the bus, where I sit in the seat closest to the back door and hold the cart by said door. It's easy and it's out of everyone's way. Sometimes I get a driver who feels like being a dick. Once a driver wouldn't let me on and made me wait for the next bus. My ice cream melted. This time however, the driver made me unload my cart and put each bag individually on the bus then bring the cart on folded, then do the same in reverse when it was time to get off.

He said it was Septa's policy and that it was a safety issue. How is it safer to make a person on a cane get off and on the bus repeatedly while carrying bags heavier than his doctor wants him to be lifting? Oh, and the driver didn't even kneel the bus when I was getting on and gave me a dirty look when I demanded he kneel it when I was getting off, in fact, the driver was incredibly rude to me throughout the whole incident (which, by the way, is not the first disablist incident I've dealt with from Septa, not by a long shot). I would, however, like to give some points to the woman that helped me get my stuff off the bus, thanks.

When I called Septa's customer service number to complain, the woman I spoke to told me that it was their policy and that is no exception for disabled passengers. Her attitude also told me, not in so many words, to go fuck myself when I pointed out the discriminatory nature of their policies. I simply can't understand why they want to make it hard to disabled people to buy food. When I asked for a number for someone higher up to ask why these policies are in place, she told me someone would be calling me back. I don't think anyone will, my wife and friends think they will though. Again, we'll see what happens.

On a much, much less serious note, on Wednesday, we went to the Franklin Institute. I used a wheelchair because, well, I can't walk for that long. While looking at an exhibit, a man tried explaining said exhibit to me like I was an idiot. Why do people always make that assumption - that if you're in a wheelchair you're stupid? It happens all the time, and from what I hear it happens to everyone. Baffling.

I do have some positive, not-me, health news while I'm posting. My mom got the results back from her PET scan and her cancer's gone. This is obviously very good news.



Right now my bipolar is Kinda Level.
Right now my pain level is 4.