Friday, July 23, 2021

I'm About To Lose My Crap Sandwich

I'm a little queasy at the moment, and it's not from feasting on the crap sandwich Even Steven has somehow found necessary to feed me this week. Y'all could have helped me, you know, when I offered to share my treat with you. Then I wouldn't be so stuffed, and about to refund my crap sandwich due to this crazy roller coaster ride of a week. So many ups and downs! My head is spinning. Although that might be from scratching the inside of my ear with the tip of a Bic fine-point pen lid.
 
As I write this on Thursday night, ONE WEEK AFTER THE PONY BROKE HIS ANKLE AT WORK... he still has not been able to get an appointment with an orthopedic specialist. Still no cast, just the soft brace and wrap put on at Urgent Care last Thursday.

Every day, we get our hopes up that something is being done. And every day, we plummet to the depths of despair that it is not. FINALLY, after contact with the regional office that handles the workers' comp issues, The Pony's acting supervisor found out what paperwork was missing from the report they'd compiled. We stopped by and signed it Wednesday. It was submitted that evening to the regional office. 

The Pony has been in contact with his union rep. Everything seemed to be coalescing to lead to a NUMBER that was needed by Urgent Care to refer him to an orthopedic doctor. The union rep said The Pony should ask for a copy of that specific form, which should have been given to him, and to make sure everything on it was correct. If not, to submit one online.

Here's the roller coaster drop for the day. The Pony had put in a call and a text early in the morning. By noon, he still hadn't heard anything back about getting a copy to look at. THEN he got a response from his acting supervisor.

"Mom, she said she'd send me a copy as soon as she gets back to the office. She's at the doctor. She didn't say if it was MY doctor, or her own. Do you think she was over at Urgent Care giving them my stuff?"

"Um. NO. I'm pretty sure any doctor she's at would be for herself. Otherwise, she would have said 'your Urgent Care.' To get you off her back with the texting."

"Oh. Maybe something happened at work. I'll just have to wait."

"Yeah. You've waited THIS long. Obviously it's not getting done again today. One thing's for sure: SHE BETTER NOT SHOW UP FOR WORK WITH A FRESH CAST ON HER ANKLE!"

Sometimes, ya gotta laugh, or you'll cry.
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The Pony got his copy of the form. It was indeed filled out correctly. It HAS been sent to the regional office, whose contact name and phone number he also got. He's calling Friday morning to see if a claim number has been issued. At which point he will call Urgent Care with the info.

Can't say I'm overly optimistic...
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4 comments:

  1. Good grief. Thankfully it takes a shorter time to get our mail than it does for our mail carriers to get medical attention.

    Newman never got injured, did he? The way he pranced around, that's surprising.

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  2. I hope the supervisor wasn't at her doctor because she thinks she has Covid.
    I'll keep my fingers crossed for The Pony getting casted very soon.

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  3. Sioux,
    I KNOW! Even counting my DISH bill, which I got on the 21st, and is due on the 25th, even though it was supposedly sent out on the 10th...

    Newman never got injured. Not even that time he shinnied up a tree like a ring-tailed lemur, to get Joe Mayo's fur man-coat that Elaine had tossed out the bedroom window, even though her job at Joe Mayo's party was watching the coats.

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  4. River,
    That's what I told The Pony! "All this time, we've been fine, and now I'm going to get the VIRUS from your dang supervisor breathing across the counter on me for something we shouldn't have needed to be there for!" So far, we're still kickin'! I don't know what issue put that gal at the doctor. She didn't look or sound sick while we were there on Wednesday at 1:00.

    If Farmer H was here, he could have whipped up some plaster, and wrapped some old shop towels around that ankle to harden!

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