As I've probably written before, I used to be a productive employee. For years, my husband and I owned and ran an office equipment business; I was the office/human resources manager. We eventually were offered a deal too good to resist to sell the business to a Fortune 500 company, and were officially free to follow our dreams.
I had just finished a degree in Paralegal Studies when negotiations for selling our business began; I thought that my interest in the law, my love of research and my overall wonderful people skills would land me a great job in a law office, and it eventually did. I worked for a personal injury lawyer, and while I loved certain aspects of my job (my boss was great and once I learned the ropes I pretty much ran the case right up until settlement), I quickly grew tired of the deadbeats looking to make a fast buck. All in all, I really loved my job.
I had been diagnosed with Fibromyalgia in 1992 and I was very fortunate that when we owned our company, I could keep a very flexible schedule and take off early, or work from home when I was having a rough time of it. I even had a sleeping bag and pillow in my office and there were many days when I would turn off my phone, turn off the lights and take an afternoon nap. Once I began working for someone else, however understanding he might be, that changed. I had a fairly long daily commute-45 minutes each way-and driving is one of my stressors. Once I got into a flare, it was almost impossible to get out. I was sleeping very poorly, driving, working, driving, sleeping very poorly... you get the idea. There were days when I would tell the secretary to call me on my cell phone and I would take my lunch hour sleeping in my car. I was exhausted and very depressed because I really didn't want to have to get done work, but it was becoming clear to me that my health was more important to me than my job.
I gave my notice on the last day of August; I would work another two weeks and then I would just let my body rest and recoup as much as it could. I ended up working an extra week, and cried all the way home on my last day; pain and frustration had such a grip on me. What would I do with myself, I wondered? I had claimed a nice paycheck of my own for many years and the prospect of having to rely on my husband for money felt pretty heavy on my heart.
I filed for SSDI (Social Security Disability), knowing full well I had the medical records to back up my claim, and I had my doctor's support, as well as a second opinion. I waited six months for the first rejection and filed an appeal. They sent me to a pshchologist who determined that I definately had depression and memory impairmant; six months later I was rejected again. At this point, I was "in for a dime, in for a dollar" as my grandmother used to say, and filed for a hearing. I waited four months and then was given a date eight months later. I decided that I should get an attorney, since by law an attorney can collect ONLY if you win, and I had absolutely nothing to lose.
My hearing date came and I went to virtual court. It was really strange; here I was talking to a judge on a big screen TV, an occupational therapist sat on one side of me and my lawyer on the other. The judge asked me a lot of questions and I answered them truthfully, and told him how much I hated to give up a job that I loved. He asked the OT if there were jobs that she felt I could do, and I gulped. Oh, oh; here it comes, I thought. I'm about to hear that I can be a ....
She simply said that given my pain level, my psychological limitations, my sleep deprivation and need for daily naps, there would be no jobs that she could recommend that I could do on a consistent basis. My lawyer gave a closing statement, and I thanked the judge.
He then did the unthinkable and issued a bench decision; he felt he had enough evidence that he could determine then and there that I should receive SSDI, and awarded it to me. I was completely shocked, as was my lawyer.
It took three months for me to get my first check, but it was a big one, because it was partially retroactive. To have my own money again was an amazing feeling. A lot of people had tried to discourage me from persuing my case after they turned my down the first two times, but I am so glad I listened to my instinct and followed through with it.
Now I write. I can keep my own schedule, get my daily nap and actually make a few extra dollars occasionally. No longer having to start my day in a rush to get to the office has helped immeasurably, as well as not having to commute.
As awful as fibromyalgia is, God has truly blessed me.
No comments:
Post a Comment