I should really file this under ANGER, because I am ticked. I’m at the point where if it was possible to pull someone through the phone I’d be punching people I’ve never met in the brain.
A couple weeks ago, C and I went back to the VA finally. I was heartened, excited even, at the thought of him finally getting the treatment he needs and deserves.
Then the letters started. Every day, a new envelope with a new appointment shows up. Appointments we never scheduled and can’t make because of time constraints and promises.
I’ve been trying my best to take care of all of them. This morning I start calling to reschedule two appointments. At this point, I have a thousand numbers and two hospital/clinics I’m dealing with. Ok. No problem, the numbers are on the appointment sheets.
I call. I get a message system. I can deal with this. I don’t have PTSD, I can do this.
Really? Ya think? Nope.
The message system is an ENDLESS maze. No wonder so many PTSD sufferers just walk away. I want to just walk away. No, I don’t, I want to strike someone. Line them all up and three stooges style smack everyone in charge of frustrating those of us who have chosen to seek help from this bloated organization.
I ended up calling Anthony, who is the social worker we spoke with first time. He said the system says we’re agreeing to all these appointments and then canceling them.
What?
Oh, no we are not, we are getting all this paperwork in the mail. I’m sitting with it spread all around me while I try to deal with the mess. We went to the two appointments we agreed to, and will go to any others C needs, but I WILL NOT be scheduled without being spoken to first. We have a life and the VA is not it.
I get off the phone with Anthony who is going to try and get in touch with neurology for me and sit fuming. We’re being difficult? Us. Canceling for no reason I guess because we’re all about taking up the VA’s precious time.
Anthony, who is just as sweet as cotton candy, calls me back and says C needs a case manager. He thought we had this all under control… um, dude, I do have this under control. You have no idea how much control I am exhibiting at this moment in time.
Just don’t send me appointments and assume I’m free for them. We have a life and PTSD is a big part of it, but it is not the only part.
In the end, after two hours on the phone, we were assigned a case manager and given her actual phone number. I’m supposed to get a call in a week. We’ll see.
