(Dis)able was I ere I saw Elba,Sid

Well, I had quite a week. I spent about 4 hours per day in a classroom at Woodlawn studying the intricacies of how to gather and present the medical evidence needed to make the case or reject requests for disability. It is a very involved process and it requires scouring all of the information that is sent to the chart and then deciding if the documented information is consistent with the government's definition for the presence of a medical problem severe enough to preclude the client from engaging in gainful employment. If it does not, then I have to make a determination of the type of activities (with respect to cardiac problems since that is my specialty) the client is able to handle. They apparently employ several battalions (perhaps even regiments) of quality assurance testers who comb through the final reports to see if all the questions have been answered properly and if the conclusions are supported by the evidence. Then there are cadres of administrative law judges employed by SSA to hear appeals and reverse medical decisions. I can't wait to start.

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If I ruled the world...

Finally, the definitive answer to those who think Jews control the world and who lose sleep (May they lose a lot of sleep-Amen!) about a universal Jewish conspiracy. This week is Passover. There's a lot of cooking and baking that needs to be done in preparation. Unbeknownst to virtually everyone, the manufacturers of stick margarine which was Kosher for Passover (when there are special restrictions on food more stringent than the usual laws of Kashrut (pronounced kosh-as in gosh-root) decided not to produce any this year. This became evident just a few days before the holiday started and caused otherwise (sort of) rational women to panic and begin pulling out their hair (or pulling fibers from their Shaitlach-whichever the case). There was, in fact, an article in the Wall Street Journal about it. Only tub based margarine was available and who knows how to cook with that? All those recipes and no way to make them work! So, How is it (if we are all-powerful and "rule the world"), that we couldn't even get the margarine we needed? And how is it (if all the Jews in the world are connected and in cahoots), that virtually NO ONE knew about this nefarious plot that (trust me) had a great deal of impact on the lives of many of us, until it was too late to do anything about it? Res Ipsa Loquitor I rest my case.

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Meet and Greet

I finally got there! I received the call that my security clearance had gone through. I was to meet one of the supervisors at 7:30 on Monday morning for an orientation session. The facility at Woodlawn is 10 miles from my home, but I had no idea how long it would take to get there. For 25 years I had passed under the Baltimore Beltway on my way to the office and hospital. That underpass is about 4 miles from Social Security and there were very few days I recall over those years that the traffic overhead was not backed up. I left 45 minutes for the drive but got there in 15, despite the rolling backup for the final 5 miles. I had a book to read so I had something to do with the half hour I found myself with. Of course, once 7:30 rolled around my contact person was nowhere to be seen. (Note to self: Never have a third party arrange where you will meet a second party). I finally started wandering around the outside of the building and found my contract officer waiting for me at another entrance. I received a quick tour of the first floor and was taken to the security office where I had my id badge picture taken. Of course, she spelled my name wrong on the first attempt and that card had to be destroyed. I also found out later in the day that she had kept my driver's license, so I had to drive the 10 miles again on Tuesday to pick it up. We took the elevator up to my new department, and I began meeting people. It was actually a bit amusing, each one of them greeting me with: "It's so good to finally meet you!" I guess so. My name had been kicking around that office for 8 months.
I remained attentive and tried to listen carefully for the things they were saying and what they weren't saying overtly. I was cautioned that I would be controlling millions of dollars in funding on a regular basis. What flashed through my mind? Well, for 25 years my career involved taking care of people and making small and large decisions that had major impact on their lives and health. Many of those decisions resulted in worry and lost sleep for me. I'm predicting from the outset that, though I intend on being fair and thorough in the evaluative process, I will not lose any sleep over this job, nor will I worry about my decisions. Let's see how that works out. Anyway, I ran into a number of docs of other specialties who work there. There were a few of my old professors, now VERY gray, and there was a friend just a few years older than me. We actually went to camp together back in the 1960's. He had the distinction back then of being able to swim three complete pool lengths underwater. I'm bettin' he can't do that now. I'll be starting formal orientation on the 22nd.

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You are what you....

A somewhat scary trip today. I've spoken of my mother-in-law on these pages before. It's become my responsibility to keep an eye on her during the week. Well, today I needed to clean her refrigerator and ended up taking a journey deep into the valley of forgotten food. It was nasty. I'm very familiar with that refrigerator, having snacked and grazed from its cheery interior since I first met my bride back in 1971. It's been like a second home to me, albeit a cold one. But, in any case, I've always looked forward to tugging on the magnetically fastened door, feeling that reassuring pop as it opened with a flash of light and a rush of chilled air-a cool yet warm place-eagerly anticipating my next nosh.

Today I approached it from a different perspective. "Bubbie" is just not herself anymore and needs help. The once gleaming grotto of gustatory delight still cycles on and off as before, but now as merely a pathetic caricature of its former self. No longer a place of delicacies and caloric wonderment, it's just cold storage; a cruel reminder of the glorious galley that Bubbie commanded in her salad days (sorry).

The task was before me. It was full. Well, perhaps packed is a better description. At the base, on each of the spill encrusted shelves, lived a layer of containers and bottles of various shapes and heights forming a sort of skyline, if you will. Balanced between the towering spires of poly and glass, plates were suspended-defying gravity's pull with cirque-like precision- each plate sporting a crumpled sheet of contents-concealing aluminum foil, camouflaging the inevitable decomposition within. I opened a few. It's a shame we don't have any kids around who need a science project. Mold is always a good back up when the Lego cyclotron doesn't pan out. As I unfurled (aluminum furl, you see) the little packages, I was flooded with memories of all the recent dinners we've eaten with Bubbie. Ah--Last week's brisket...The kishke from the end of February... I thought of giving a call to the crew down at the Smithsonian who, I believe, are still trying to work out how the ancient Egyptians preserved corpses. Problem solved. All they need do is drive up here and I can show them Bubbie's mummified chicken from sometime last winter. Sad. Then came the parade of pickles. Little Sweeties, Half Done Dills, Gherkins (what are gherkins, anyway?) They were pathetic. Not crisp and crunchy..mushy and (like many of us) past their prime.

Way in the back was a big plastic tub. I saw a few dozen pale lumps inside, some of which appeared to be fermenting. I think they were left over cookie dough balls. Bubbie last made cookies about the time I first applied for that SSA job back in September. The tub was snuggled close to a plastic bag of ready to bake Nestle's cookie dough bits. It was stamped: "Best used before February 2001". Hmmm..6 tubs of cream cheese, some borsht and a box of dried up dried prunes from God knows when. There was a box of Weight Watcher's chocolate power bars. I ate one of those. There were also little containers of rice pudding. I had one. Then I saw that all of the other pudding containers were bloated and started wondering just how long I had before the Botulinum toxin started shutting down my diaphragm and intercostal muscles. It's been a long time since Med School, but I did remember just how little of the toxin can kill you. Then there was the tub of olives that I think someone sent over when we were sitting shiva for my father-in-law in 1995 and a few bottles of relish that he had bought and opened a few years before that. Sounds crazy, right? I guess it's no different than cleaning out a closet where you wouldn't think twice about coming across something from 15 years ago. Well, maybe a refrigerator is different.

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Just say Uncle...

Life is funny, is it not? I finally heard from Social Security. My clearance came through. I guess nothing from my "permanent record" at school had any influence on the outcome. I'm also relieved that my little jaunt through the abandoned missile base and subsequent apprehension when I was in college has not fouled up my chances for this retirement position. I suspect that all of that was cancelled out by the fact that my hotel room was "tossed" by the KGB when my bride and I visited the Soviet Union in 1984. I probably got points for that. We were visiting refuseniks at the time- but that's another story altogether. Of course when I was called today (after approximately 8 months of jumping through hoops to get the job) and was told that I would be starting on the 21st of April, I had to tell them "Sorry-it's the second day of Passover and I will not be able to work." I felt a little silly, but ya' gotta' do what ya' gotta' do. The administrator said she understood and that it was not a problem. So now I'll be working for Uncle. I make a promise to all of my U.S. readers that I will not abuse the privilege of working for the government. I will not abuse the credit card, nor will I travel first class nor charge expensive meals. I will not be bribed by any lobbyists. You have my word.

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Anticipation...

We're workin' on 4 weeks now. I'm still waiting for my security clearance to go through so I can begin the job at SSA. You need to realize I started this process last September. Really, that's when I contacted them and the application process began. It's nearly 8 months. Does the rest of the government work like this?

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Close one!

It was only by chance that I stopped at my mother-in-law's today. She's been slowly failing-generally showing poor judgement and not keeping things together very well. She's always forgetting to add some key ingredient to her recipes, and she loses track of time. My job is to make sure she gets her medicines every day and to try and stop over to make sure she gets out of bed, gets dressed, cleans the kitchen, etc., etc.
I arrived for my random house check and saw that her car was there. I walked up the porch steps, noticing the screen door was unlocked. The front door was ajar. As I walked in, I called out to her but stopped when I noticed she was sitting at the dining room table with a man I did not recognize. There were papers spread about. "Oh good! You're here," she said. "Sit down." In a flash I ascertained that she was in earnest discussion with a dreaded INSURANCE MAN! It was clear she didn't know him. He was trying to sell her a policy that would pay for interim home care "mainly to preserve your dignity". I was not actually listening to his pitch, but was more interested in figuring out how he got to her. At the same time, I was trying to fathom the disappointment he felt now that someone under 80 was present. In general this must be like shooting fish in a barrel for these guys. Frankly, I don't know whether this guy was legit or not, but it's clear how the elderly are at risk for getting scammed. Speak with an air of authority, be compassionate, and play to their fears. He knew there would be no commission today. He did share that he was having a heart catheterization tomorrow. I didn't out myself as a Cardiologist. Mercifully, he left after about 15 minutes of double talk. Finally I got to ask her: "Where did he come from?" "Oh, I sent in a card from a magazine," she confessed. I informed her that that was the last time she would be doing something like that.

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