September 30, 2010 - Pain Level 9

Where did September go?  This week has been full of me realizing it was the end of September. The house note had to be paid by the 29th and even though I had reminders written down in several places, I almost forgot to pay it.  The only way I remembered was that I looked on line at the bank account and saw where my LTD check had been deposited and I knew that it had to go to pay the house note.  Yes, house notes are usually due by the 15th.  However, when fibro fog and cognitive problems are running rampant, you tend to forget things.  Well several months ago, I completely forgot to pay the house note. Yep, didn't even think about it until the mortgage company called and asked if we'd like to continue living here.  Fortunately, they were really good about working out a way for us to get caught up over several months and allowed us to make the payment each month when my check came in. 

My next realization that it was the end of  September came when I realized the light bill was due October 1 and that was Friday!  My pain level is so high today because it's been a very long, humiliating and humbling day with me either sitting for hours stiffening up or standing and causing my legs to start swelling.  Because I can't work and my LTD is only 50% of what I made and medicine had to be purchased to the tune of almost $500 this month, we can't pay the light bill.  There's just no way to make less than $50 pay a $550 light bill.  So this morning I was at a local agency by 7:30 to get in line for my chance at part of the funds they have to help the many people that need it these days.  Mornings are my worse time of the day. I can barely walk normally.  Picture the shuffling feet of a 90 year old woman.  That's me in the morning.  I got there almost on time and then proceeded to sit for over 2 hours.  We were packed into the waiting area so tight, there was no getting up to move around.  This resulted in the little old lady shuffle being even worse when I was called back because I was still stiff.

As the social worker was interviewing me, I could tell by the look on her face that I was not making sense. I stopped talking, gathered my thoughts and explained my problems to her.  She understood and we started over with her talking slower and me stopping to think about how I was going to answer before I opened my mouth.  That was much more successful. 

So here I sit stiff and hurting and hoping that tomorrow is a better day in more ways than one.