Who Knew I’d Need to Remember
I was examined and cross-examined for three days. Two of those days were for my participation in a new medication program for a drug manufacturer as a trial for a new diabetic medication. I had multiple vials of blood taken, a urine sample, and several electrocardiograms. My eyes were examined and bought new glasses. The cost of exam was paid by the medication trial.
The hardest thing for me was the recollection of dates for my past medical history. Who knew I’d be asked after so many years when my first symptoms of my diabetes began? I was expected to recall the date I had a Pilonidal cyst removed or had my carpal tunnel surgeries done. How long ago was I diagnosed with bone spurs in my neck or the deformity of my arthritic little finger? That wasn’t torturous enough, but they wanted to know dates when I started taking my different medications. I could only try to make educated guesses.
My other stressful questioning happened yesterday when I responded to a letter I received in the mail. It was from the PACE program trying to line up seniors with available programs. When I called, I thought it would be a short conversation and they would say that I made too much money. The Veteran’s Affairs once reached out to me with intentions of assisting me after I retired. During the questioning they said I made too much money to qualify for any veteran programs. I thought the telephone call to PACE would be the same; however it was not to be. The gracious lady who answered my call began a litany of questions that lasted for nearly two hours. One set of questions was how I heated my house. Did I own or rent? Did I need weatherization for my house? What was the cost of heating my home? Did I need electricity to heat my house?
Multiple questions were centered on, did I share my home with anyone. Was there anyone who received grants? Was anyone pregnant in my home? Were any felons in my house? I kept saying I was a widower and the sole occupant, but that didn’t discourage her from asking. I wasn’t barbecued, but I felt I was thoroughly grilled before hanging up.
In finishing she said I may qualify for financial assistance in several areas. Soon I’ll receive a plethora of paperwork, asking the same questions, and requiring proof of my taxes, fuel bills, medical bills, etc. I do believe Pandora’s Box has been opened.
President Reagan said it best, “The nine most hated words to hear are, ‘I’m from the government. I’m here to help you.’”