Since the Fall/Winter of 2009 I have been working at Target. And not more than two months after starting to work there, I developed tennis elbow. The first time it happened - I got a cortisone shot...pain went away. And I told work about it as to file a workers comp claim. (My husband works in workers comp for an insurance company BTW). They told me no, because sale floor as opposed to cashier, is not a repetitive stress job. Really?! Because I do the same damn thing every frickin' day. That's not repetitive stress? WTF. Anyway, I told my husband and he said "That's bullshit". But we let it go, figuring everything would be fine.
Seven months later, pain returned. And I was reminded before that the cortisone shot only masks the pain, doesn't cure it. Instead of giving me another shot, I was given several months physical therapy and an anti-inflammatory. Those didn't really touch the pain much at all. So I was given another shot. (Each time with my husband saying, I'd need surgery if it didn't stop.) But each time, the shot worked for 6-7 months and when I'd go in for another my doctor says "You're not bad enough for surgery."
Today, however, she would not give me a shot. Because this time the shot only lasted from March 7th to about two weeks ago. It's not even been 3 months. She gave me a script for a different anti-inflammatory to see if this one would work better. And told me instead of just an arm band at work, I'd need to wear a wrist guard and the arm band all the time. And for the next month to be off cashiering and not lift over 15 lbs. Well, I have cashier duties three times in the next week, and part of my new position...is managing the checklanes twice a week. While this promotion is good, it also means hoping on the checklanes when they're busy to help out.
I went to work to give them the doctors note and see what we could do to change around my cashier hours and was told, this means I also can't really perform my regular Managing duties either. And had I considered a leave of absence for the month of June to let it try to heal. Otherwise they might really have to do some creative wiggling around to see if I can do any job on the sales floor. I told her I'd need to discuss it with my husband because it was a shock to me and I didn't really know if we can swing me not working for a month (which was my fear of if I need surgery, because I'd be off work for at least two months with no paycheck). So we agreed I'd come in tomorrow with my decision.
So I called Jeff while driving home and he was getting upset. Mainly about how this not being a workers comp claim has been bullshit from the beginning and that we should get a lawyer and file a claim so that I could get surgery, and be paid to be off work for recovery. I'm concerned of a) how long with that take? b)What if we lose? How will I be treated at work if I sue them? etc. etc. And What do we do in the meantime? We agreed to talk more about it tonight when he got home, but now I'm depressed of WTF should I do? None of us have a crystal ball to see the future of if by just taking a month off work would cure it. Jeff doesn't even believe I will rest it at home...because he knows I cook and clean etc. etc. and it all uses my right arm. I don't know if a month off will do much good either. What I do know is while I don't make much, I still do bring in over a grand a month to help with bills. And I fear if I don't take a leave, and they have to find things I can do...does that mean my hours per week drop dramatically because there are so few things there that don't involve bending my wrist or lifting? And by losing my promotion, do I lose the raise too? It'd almost be best if they'd fire me so I could get unemployement while looking for a non physical desk job. But I don't know how to make that happen. And if I became unemployed, can I even find a job in this economy? I've looked slightly over the past two years here and there and so many times I've sent dozens of resumes out without even word that they got it. And a handful of interviews when I'm told I'm one of several hundred resumes. And obviously I have not gotten a job from any of them. If I could get back in with a temp agency, and get a temp to perm job I think I'd find something but we just don't have the money for me to stop working at Target to even attempt that right now. I feel so helpless!
And the final kicker? I'm on my husband's insurance. Not Target's. So leave of absence doesn't pay. Target has two tiers of insurance. I'm currently eligible for the lower tier which is worse than my husband's. So I have not used it. If I had, I could get paid for the time off. If my "average hours worked" from the start were over 30 hours then I could have the upper tier (which I'm told has infertility coverage). But because when I first started working there, I had only about 20 hours. And my week here or there of vacation counts as zero hours in my average I've not broken that 30 hour mark. Today while we're discussing why I really wanted to go over that 30 hours so I could get the upper tier for infertility coverage (HR knows of my IF) she informed me that once you pass three years, you can get it no matter what your average hours are. So that means come Jan. 1 I can have that coverage. That's great news! I might be able to cycle next year without it coming out of pocket?!?! Why had no one told me this before??? BUT that makes it harder to think of getting another job, get one that might pay me more...or stick with this, and have unknown amount of IF coverage? ((No one can really seem to answer me what kind of coverage they have...just that they "believe" it's good coverage of IF)).
AAARRRGGGHHH!!!! From the sound of Jeff and I's conversation so far. I will need to tell them NO on leave of absence. That I will be asking them to find work I can do. And if they give me less hours, Jeff will seriously want to sue. Or if my elbow continues to be a problem (which I can't see how it will get better)...he'll want to sue. I don't know if being a lawyer makes him letigious. Or being in workers comp makes him that much more sure of it being bullshit that I didn't let me file a claim. Or what.
Great. And now I have a headache. I think I'm going to go lay down as this is just now rambling on...
Ice bar in Vegas 2012
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Turn Back Tuesday - The sweet surprise of the awkward years
So fellow blogger and efriend Missie at Growing Up Geeky last week was talking about her teen years and it got me thinking about those few years. You know those years I'm talking about. Those the awkward ones. The years that almost no one looks good. Because I was an early bloomer...for me those years are fifth, sixth and Seventh grade. Ages 11-13. The years of braces. The years of acne before seeing a dermatologist (let alone learning makeup tricks to hide them). The years of funny clothing choices. The years of feeling like an outside in your own skin. Yep, those years.
*Note, here is where I would stick a picture of my awkward self...except that I have just looked through scanned photos of my childhood that my father has passed on to me...and those years appear to be missing. Hhhhmmmm. I guess none of us want the evidence of that time digitized LOL. You have to take my word of what a mess I was.
I personally am very thankful of those years. It gave me a sweet surprise at the end. My friends. Let me explain... In elementary school I had moved in the middle of first grade. Not knowing anyone made me scared. And quiet. And for the next few years, I was myself at home but at school I was a bit of someone else. I did what I thought was "right", what was "popular". I did what would get me friends. Then in fifth grade, my body started to change. Well, if we're being honest it actually started happening in 4th grade...but I could hide my starting boobs beneath my clothes then. And I started my period when I was ten. But then fifth grade happened. My boobs became noticeable, my acne started, I started (secretly) shaving my legs. And I'll be honest....I started to have B.O as kids do. My friends at the time started to distance themselves from me. And by sixth grade they started to drop me as a friend all together. So I reverted to my home style defense mechanism. Sarcasm. And not subtle sarcasm. Mocking sarcasm. Nothing deflects your pain, like making fun of others. And if I had been picking on the nerd - this might have won me back into my former popular group of friends. But I was mad at them. And I was a nerd in my heart, I watched Star Trek: The Next Generation, had comic books, I was in band, etc. So who did I mock? Yep, those popular girls that were mean to me. And I started to make friends that I don't even remember noticing before then. We didn't have the newest most fashionable clothes. We were in band. We all may have been going through our awkward stage. But what I knew was that they excepted me, for me. And they laughed at my jokes. And it was OK to be silly around them.
And yes, by the end of 7th grade, I shed the ugly braces. I saw a dermatologist. I started wearing makeup to coverup the breakouts that came even with the meds. I excepted that almost everyone had boobs by now (although, none as HUGE as my poor boobs), and shaved their legs. I (thankfully) I started to remember to wear deodorant every day. The one thing I didn't shed? My new found friends. The end of the movie Stand By Me ends with Gordy saying "I never had any friends as good as the ones I had when I was 12. Jesus, does anyone?" I'm sure many would say yes. But let me assure you, I am not one of them. Two of my best friends then, are to this day- - still my best friends. I know I would have grown up a very different person if not for this troubled time in my life.
*Note, here is where I would stick a picture of my awkward self...except that I have just looked through scanned photos of my childhood that my father has passed on to me...and those years appear to be missing. Hhhhmmmm. I guess none of us want the evidence of that time digitized LOL. You have to take my word of what a mess I was.
I personally am very thankful of those years. It gave me a sweet surprise at the end. My friends. Let me explain... In elementary school I had moved in the middle of first grade. Not knowing anyone made me scared. And quiet. And for the next few years, I was myself at home but at school I was a bit of someone else. I did what I thought was "right", what was "popular". I did what would get me friends. Then in fifth grade, my body started to change. Well, if we're being honest it actually started happening in 4th grade...but I could hide my starting boobs beneath my clothes then. And I started my period when I was ten. But then fifth grade happened. My boobs became noticeable, my acne started, I started (secretly) shaving my legs. And I'll be honest....I started to have B.O as kids do. My friends at the time started to distance themselves from me. And by sixth grade they started to drop me as a friend all together. So I reverted to my home style defense mechanism. Sarcasm. And not subtle sarcasm. Mocking sarcasm. Nothing deflects your pain, like making fun of others. And if I had been picking on the nerd - this might have won me back into my former popular group of friends. But I was mad at them. And I was a nerd in my heart, I watched Star Trek: The Next Generation, had comic books, I was in band, etc. So who did I mock? Yep, those popular girls that were mean to me. And I started to make friends that I don't even remember noticing before then. We didn't have the newest most fashionable clothes. We were in band. We all may have been going through our awkward stage. But what I knew was that they excepted me, for me. And they laughed at my jokes. And it was OK to be silly around them.
And yes, by the end of 7th grade, I shed the ugly braces. I saw a dermatologist. I started wearing makeup to coverup the breakouts that came even with the meds. I excepted that almost everyone had boobs by now (although, none as HUGE as my poor boobs), and shaved their legs. I (thankfully) I started to remember to wear deodorant every day. The one thing I didn't shed? My new found friends. The end of the movie Stand By Me ends with Gordy saying "I never had any friends as good as the ones I had when I was 12. Jesus, does anyone?" I'm sure many would say yes. But let me assure you, I am not one of them. Two of my best friends then, are to this day- - still my best friends. I know I would have grown up a very different person if not for this troubled time in my life.
Friday, May 18, 2012
Daisy & Elm Jewelry Review - NIAW necklace
You may notice that I've never done a review on my blog. Mainly because reviews are for those big whig blogs with a ton of readers, and they get free products to review. This is not that situation. I paid for this. This review is unsolicited. But I felt compelled to right a review because while my readership is small....it's very targeted to mainly my fellow IF'ers or former IF'ers. And I thought you might like to know about this business (if you don't already know about it).
The business name is Daisy & Elm Jewelry and Rosaries. And she can be found on Facebook as well. I was introduced to her work by my e-friend Brooke during the ramp up to National Infertility Awareness Week. She was looking for ideas for phrases to make NIAW themed jewelry pieces. I had used the phrase "When, not IF" for my pinterest board of all things baby and loved the play on words with IF capitalized since it's the abbreviation for Infertility. I shared this idea, and a necklace was made using it! I was excited that my ideas was chosen and felt I must buy it!
It arrived last week. First... let me say that dealing with Allyson at D&E was wonderful! She sent me an email invoice to pay through PayPal (which links with your bank account, but she also takes checks for those of you not hip to the PP). And once it was shipped, she sent me an email informing of it's arrival and to check my mailbox. (Good thing because we only get out mail about three times a month with it being two blocks away.)
I have worn it every day since! I have gotten several compliments, and gotten to explain (the short version of) our IF story to one person who commented on it's beauty. Is it silly to say a necklace can give you strength? Maybe, but when I would see little children and feel slightly sad, I grabbed my necklace, rubbed the surface of "When" and thought to myself; "It will happen. When, not IF". The necklace is three pieces that overlay. The largest circle says "Not IF", the smaller circle says "When" and the stone is of multicolors, most reminiscent of Pomegranate (The color of IF awareness). I like that there are a few underlying hues to the stone, because the first day I wore it during the day with a red shirt (Looked great) and with a peachy/salmon colored sweater and it looked great with that too!
Oh, and it has an interesting clasp...instead of the classic hook & loop necklace clasp...it has a tube and a stick. You insert the stick into the tube. I was doubtful it'd stay on...but it's never fallen off in over a week of wearing it. And the best part? My hair does not get tangled in it like it does with traditional clasps. Do not be afraid to move into the future with this clasp.
I also liked that when I bend over and stand up, they click together - as if they are my dog tags in a war. Because that's what fighting infertility is like. A war. There is sorrow. There are casualties. There are scars. There is a cause we believe is worth fighting. There are heros. There is adjustment in normal society. I wanted something to show the world I am a warrior in this fight. There are other NIAW pieces in the collection listed under her category "perennials". I encourage you to take a look, and consider Allyson at Daisy & Elm for any custom jewelry or rosaries you may want. Because I know I am one very happy customer.
Picture below taken this Wednesday with the necklace on. And close up of necklace. Please, pay no attention to my thryoid scar I'm trying to hide behind this necklace! ;)
The business name is Daisy & Elm Jewelry and Rosaries. And she can be found on Facebook as well. I was introduced to her work by my e-friend Brooke during the ramp up to National Infertility Awareness Week. She was looking for ideas for phrases to make NIAW themed jewelry pieces. I had used the phrase "When, not IF" for my pinterest board of all things baby and loved the play on words with IF capitalized since it's the abbreviation for Infertility. I shared this idea, and a necklace was made using it! I was excited that my ideas was chosen and felt I must buy it!
It arrived last week. First... let me say that dealing with Allyson at D&E was wonderful! She sent me an email invoice to pay through PayPal (which links with your bank account, but she also takes checks for those of you not hip to the PP). And once it was shipped, she sent me an email informing of it's arrival and to check my mailbox. (Good thing because we only get out mail about three times a month with it being two blocks away.)
I have worn it every day since! I have gotten several compliments, and gotten to explain (the short version of) our IF story to one person who commented on it's beauty. Is it silly to say a necklace can give you strength? Maybe, but when I would see little children and feel slightly sad, I grabbed my necklace, rubbed the surface of "When" and thought to myself; "It will happen. When, not IF". The necklace is three pieces that overlay. The largest circle says "Not IF", the smaller circle says "When" and the stone is of multicolors, most reminiscent of Pomegranate (The color of IF awareness). I like that there are a few underlying hues to the stone, because the first day I wore it during the day with a red shirt (Looked great) and with a peachy/salmon colored sweater and it looked great with that too!
Oh, and it has an interesting clasp...instead of the classic hook & loop necklace clasp...it has a tube and a stick. You insert the stick into the tube. I was doubtful it'd stay on...but it's never fallen off in over a week of wearing it. And the best part? My hair does not get tangled in it like it does with traditional clasps. Do not be afraid to move into the future with this clasp.
I also liked that when I bend over and stand up, they click together - as if they are my dog tags in a war. Because that's what fighting infertility is like. A war. There is sorrow. There are casualties. There are scars. There is a cause we believe is worth fighting. There are heros. There is adjustment in normal society. I wanted something to show the world I am a warrior in this fight. There are other NIAW pieces in the collection listed under her category "perennials". I encourage you to take a look, and consider Allyson at Daisy & Elm for any custom jewelry or rosaries you may want. Because I know I am one very happy customer.
Picture below taken this Wednesday with the necklace on. And close up of necklace. Please, pay no attention to my thryoid scar I'm trying to hide behind this necklace! ;)
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| Sorry my head looks so huge, I suck at self taken photos. |
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Turn Back Time Tuesday: Summers of the Past
So I got off the phone tonight with my friend, and she asked what fun we had planned for this summer. And sadly? Nothing came to mind. Because we have nothing really to look forward to. No vacation. No concerts. No baseball games. Nothing. How Sad!
I don't really remember any summer well until I was about 10. I mean - I know we went to Disney when I was five, but all I remember is what I see in the pictures...not the actual trip. But when I was 10, we went on a cross country trip to my parent's 20th reunion and then on to the Grand Canyon. I remember that trip. I remember the van we traveled in. I remember when the air conditioner broke. I remember a tour of some Indian stone dwellings on a cliff. I remember my dad freaking out when I was leaning over the railing to look down the canyon. I remember wondering why my Dad didn't want to take the donkey tour down into the canyon (turns out A. My dad is deathly afraid of heights. And B. He felt he weighed too much to get on a donkey. - - It's funny what you don't know about your parents at the time, but learn as life goes on.)
Two years later, we went to England. We visited the town our family is named after (where our ancestors were from, and at one time ruled...ya know, before we got kicked out for killing Thomas A. Becket. But I digress. I remember thinking it was so cool that I was eating Fish 'N Chips at a pub! I remember, watching the Smurfs in Gaelic when we were in Wales. I remember a hotel in London being so crappy (with a sharred bathroom) that my dad said "I don't care about saving money, this is a shit hole! I'm taking us to the nearest Holiday I.nn.
Two years after that....we went to Hawaii (((My Dad was a traveling salesman and racked up a ton of airline miles, hotel points, car rental points, etc that we got to travel for next to nothing but food costs))).
Basically, I'm saying I got spoiled as a child in the summer. Excitement! Fun! Travel! And then came the teen years. I worked at a beach or pool with my best friends lifeguarding. I got paid to for 90% of the time, tan! And once I hit 16? I saw a concert at least every single summer! And let's not forget the credit card debt I went into to go on Spring Break as a Senior in college.
And once I had a career as a single woman? I had extra money for myself, I went on trips to see friends, family, and yes - two years in a row take a Girls Vaca with the girls to Punta Cana and Mexico.
Later, there was the wedding, honeymoon, etc. This is the first year without anything. :( So sad!
I don't really remember any summer well until I was about 10. I mean - I know we went to Disney when I was five, but all I remember is what I see in the pictures...not the actual trip. But when I was 10, we went on a cross country trip to my parent's 20th reunion and then on to the Grand Canyon. I remember that trip. I remember the van we traveled in. I remember when the air conditioner broke. I remember a tour of some Indian stone dwellings on a cliff. I remember my dad freaking out when I was leaning over the railing to look down the canyon. I remember wondering why my Dad didn't want to take the donkey tour down into the canyon (turns out A. My dad is deathly afraid of heights. And B. He felt he weighed too much to get on a donkey. - - It's funny what you don't know about your parents at the time, but learn as life goes on.)
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| My mom was always taking the pictures (Grand Canyon) |
Two years later, we went to England. We visited the town our family is named after (where our ancestors were from, and at one time ruled...ya know, before we got kicked out for killing Thomas A. Becket. But I digress. I remember thinking it was so cool that I was eating Fish 'N Chips at a pub! I remember, watching the Smurfs in Gaelic when we were in Wales. I remember a hotel in London being so crappy (with a sharred bathroom) that my dad said "I don't care about saving money, this is a shit hole! I'm taking us to the nearest Holiday I.nn.
Two years after that....we went to Hawaii (((My Dad was a traveling salesman and racked up a ton of airline miles, hotel points, car rental points, etc that we got to travel for next to nothing but food costs))).
Basically, I'm saying I got spoiled as a child in the summer. Excitement! Fun! Travel! And then came the teen years. I worked at a beach or pool with my best friends lifeguarding. I got paid to for 90% of the time, tan! And once I hit 16? I saw a concert at least every single summer! And let's not forget the credit card debt I went into to go on Spring Break as a Senior in college.
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| We went horseback riding in Jamaica...yes, in bikini tops - yikes! |
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| Ben, Brit, Lauren, Me, Joy, Matt & Chris after Snorkel time in Mexico |
Later, there was the wedding, honeymoon, etc. This is the first year without anything. :( So sad!
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| Ah, Honeymoon memories (of the margaritas LOL) |
Friday, May 4, 2012
The thing that scares me the most...
So my brother was in town last night and had me drive him to the airport this morning. On the car ride there, he decides to bring up our infertility struggle. Everyone in the family knows I'm open and honest about it, but with my brother...I just don't talk to much about it. Well he asked if we had explored "other options" since this last failed treatment cycle. I explained that simply, no- because we were not interested in things like donor sperm, surrogates, or adoption. (This after he dropped the annoying comment that well meaning friends and family don't realize hurt so bad of "well if I had not had that vasectomy...I would have made and given you guys a kids to have"....Thanks... like "it's so freaking easy for me and my wife to have a kids that give us three months, I could have produced one for you, you broken-charity-case-couple.")
But I digress. So he asked why we wouldn't be interested in adoption. (Don't get me wrong...for those of you that have or are planning to, I hail you...but it's everyone's personal choice and it irks me that people throw it at you so casually!). I told him that it costs similar to a shared risk IVF session. And takes about the same amount of time (minimum) because of paperwork, home study, etc. THEN you pick a woman who wants to give up her child, help pay medical bills, etc. get your heart and hopes set on this being your child...and at the last minute she changes her mind?! We have a friend who's parents adopted him. They went through the process four times before they got their "take home" baby. I really don't think I could go through all that! And we really would like a child that is part Jeff and part me...thus why we also would not consider Donor Sperm.
Then (*and this is when I started actually crying while driving instead of just having some tears stream down my face....which is just what you want when you're doing 70mph on I-90) I said the thing that scares me most: That since Jeff is six years older than me, and has a family history of the male line in his family not living long (his Dad at 68 is the oldest living male Juice-ski known .Ever.) That say 30 years from now...Jeff passes away. And I'm 64 (my mother's current age, which no longer seems so old to me). And alone. And no one cares about me. And I said..."Mom and Dad will be dead. You're older. You'll pass away and I'll just be left with a few nephews that they'll see every couple of years because "Aunt Kate" doesn't have anywhere to go on Thanksgiving. And because they will not want my crap...I'll have to donate it to Good Will."
And (silly brother) to lighten the mood...he joked "Do you think Good Will will want your crap?" I said laughing through tears, "Well, I don't know that I'll have any good crap, so no Charity will want it. Might as well let them sell it and get some use off of the crap." So he continued to joke, "Boy, that future seems pretty bleak. You might want to take up knitting. Too bad you're allergic to cats, 'cause you could be that weird cat lady that knits. Maybe you could get some turtles or fish or something." Funny, Dan. Funny. Then my brother said, "As long as I'm alive there will be someone who cares about it." ((Sweet, no?)) And so by this point, we are close to the airport and ease into a new topic and I drop him off.
Sadly though, I could not stop thinking about this as I drove off to work, or the first few hours of work. And it just kept making me tear up. I am happy that I've come to a head space where I am accepting of the idea of living child free if needed (we'll see if we get to the end of the treatment road, if I'm still that confident). Now, if only I can get past that vision of my old age without Jeff. : (
Sorry if you read this blogger of a downer, but since this has become like my diary or therapy or whatever - it's good to just get it out.
But I digress. So he asked why we wouldn't be interested in adoption. (Don't get me wrong...for those of you that have or are planning to, I hail you...but it's everyone's personal choice and it irks me that people throw it at you so casually!). I told him that it costs similar to a shared risk IVF session. And takes about the same amount of time (minimum) because of paperwork, home study, etc. THEN you pick a woman who wants to give up her child, help pay medical bills, etc. get your heart and hopes set on this being your child...and at the last minute she changes her mind?! We have a friend who's parents adopted him. They went through the process four times before they got their "take home" baby. I really don't think I could go through all that! And we really would like a child that is part Jeff and part me...thus why we also would not consider Donor Sperm.
Then (*and this is when I started actually crying while driving instead of just having some tears stream down my face....which is just what you want when you're doing 70mph on I-90) I said the thing that scares me most: That since Jeff is six years older than me, and has a family history of the male line in his family not living long (his Dad at 68 is the oldest living male Juice-ski known .Ever.) That say 30 years from now...Jeff passes away. And I'm 64 (my mother's current age, which no longer seems so old to me). And alone. And no one cares about me. And I said..."Mom and Dad will be dead. You're older. You'll pass away and I'll just be left with a few nephews that they'll see every couple of years because "Aunt Kate" doesn't have anywhere to go on Thanksgiving. And because they will not want my crap...I'll have to donate it to Good Will."
And (silly brother) to lighten the mood...he joked "Do you think Good Will will want your crap?" I said laughing through tears, "Well, I don't know that I'll have any good crap, so no Charity will want it. Might as well let them sell it and get some use off of the crap." So he continued to joke, "Boy, that future seems pretty bleak. You might want to take up knitting. Too bad you're allergic to cats, 'cause you could be that weird cat lady that knits. Maybe you could get some turtles or fish or something." Funny, Dan. Funny. Then my brother said, "As long as I'm alive there will be someone who cares about it." ((Sweet, no?)) And so by this point, we are close to the airport and ease into a new topic and I drop him off.
Sadly though, I could not stop thinking about this as I drove off to work, or the first few hours of work. And it just kept making me tear up. I am happy that I've come to a head space where I am accepting of the idea of living child free if needed (we'll see if we get to the end of the treatment road, if I'm still that confident). Now, if only I can get past that vision of my old age without Jeff. : (
Sorry if you read this blogger of a downer, but since this has become like my diary or therapy or whatever - it's good to just get it out.
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