Buried in paper 🤨☠️✍️

These requests for documentation come in waves, usually 4 times a year, And I hate every second of it. Digging through old records, deciphering the legal speak, rushing to copy and deliver. It never arrives singlely, typically it's multiple requests from different sources. 

The pension plan paperwork from a past employer has a total of 33 pages designed to make your mind whirl like a rabbit being chased by a fox. I've spoken with both my bank and said pension company and still don't know what to do. I need expert advice. I've left a message for my uncle for a call back. He's a finance whiz, but I'm not sure if he will be up to the task due to health issues.

The other one is a quarterly request from Medicaid because they somehow feel that I'm a millionaire taking advantage of the system. This time was car title, pension and bank account info just in case I die, since I will be 65 next month and they want my leftovers. I didn't know that 65 was a death number, I've always thought it was just another year.

So yeah, I hate paperwork. That's not going to change, ever. In past jobs paperwork was part of the battle but I didn't hate it. I just hate my own.

Kel

24-24 hours a day I want to be sedated

 So I had my second arteriogram and WOW was it different. In March I woke up (fiddling with my nasal cannula) while the doctor spoke in pig Latin (well to me it was as I didn't understand a word) telling me that I needed a bypass. On Friday I had a different experience entirely. Instead of gibberish it was me screaming "I want to be sedated!" I was later told that I snored in between bellowing for drugs.

Cut me a break, I didn't want to feel pain, and someone pushing a balloon through my arteries hurt like hell. I didn't expect it as it was far from what I had previously experienced. So now I have stents in my left leg, 3 in total. I also was gifted with a grapefruit sized hematoma (bruise) in my right groin area. It looks worse than it feels. The actual pain is the left leg where the stents were manipulated into my arteries.

I'm imprisoned in the apartment as the steps of pain and my manual transmission are no-no's right now. Follow up next week with the surgeon. And for some reason my PC wants to see me as well. Some policy regarding post op. 

I'm praying that this cures my drunken gait. So hoping that it brings my leg back to normal. I still have body parts misbehaving, namely the tumor on my parathyroid. There seems to be no hurrying happening with the endocrinologist. November was the  earliest appointment available. I'd really like to approach the New Year without a tumor. 

That's all for now. Below is my in living color bruise. I guess I should be grateful that both of my legs don't look like this.

Kel