Tag Archives: shingles

Spit It Out, Will You??

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Last month, Dad and I went to the Health Department to get our updated Covid-19 vaccinations. Things went well. There was no delay in being called back. The ladies in the office and the nurses giving the vaccines were on top of things. We were ready to leave when Dad spies a sign that read, “Get Your Shingles Vaccine Today.” He and I both need to get it done so I inquired at the window. Another nurse was called up to the window to answer my inquiry. Her name was Becky and I assumed she would be competent. I assumed wrong!

First, she asked for our insurance cards to check if Shingrix was covered. It took her 40 minutes to come back and tell us that Dad’s would be covered but my insurance wouldn’t cover it. The way she spoke annoyed the crap out of me. It was like she needed a smack on the back of the head to spit it out. She was really trying my patience. (And I really don’t think it was a speech impediment because I heard her talking to one of the other nurses without trouble.)

Finally, after having to concentrate on what she was trying to say, I understood that the state-provided vaccine would be free for me. Okay, that’s great because I can’t afford $200 a pop…and there are 2 flippin’ vaccines 6 months apart! So, off Becky went to see about available appointments. Well, guess what? They didn’t have any state-provided Shingrix vaccines. Did she check to see when they would be getting more in? No. She had to go back and check. She came back and said she didn’t know when they would be getting more in but that I should check back periodically. She then said she would go back to see when they had available appointments for Dad. She should have done that already when she said was checking the first time! Then she came back and asked me to come to her office to see when a good time would be. Holy crap. Her desk was a disaster area! I don’t know how anyone could do their job with a desk in that condition!

Anyway, I made the appointment for Dad to get his first Shingrix vaccine. Becky told us again that the state-provided vaccine would be free but she didn’t know when they would get more in. She said she would try to find out and call me. After an hour and 20 minutes, we finally got out of that place! (The first 10 minutes were smooth sailing!)

Becky tried to call us several times in the following week. Dad answered the first time but she couldn’t speak up and spit it out so he hung up on her. (I assumed it was her, perhaps it wasn’t.) The next time she called I answered and after every 3 or 4 words she would stop and say, “Can you hear me?” I was getting so damn annoyed that I finally yelled, “Yes. I can hear you! What do you want?!” Then dial tone. She hung up on me. I hoped she wouldn’t call back. I told Dad if the phone rings again, don’t answer. Just let her leave a voicemail.

The following week, she called and we weren’t home so she had no choice but to leave a voicemail. She stuttered and stammered through the entire message and told me absolutely nothing that I didn’t already know! Her phone call was a waste of time. If I had been home to answer the phone, I would have told her that!

Things like that really get under my skin! I expected a nurse to tell me that we were or were not covered by our insurance, and then make appointments to get the vaccine. I expected to be told what I needed to know in a timely manner. Being disabled and in constant pain, I do not have the patience or energy for such bullshit.

I used to be a very patient person. Over the years, as my chronic pain and mobility issues advanced, my patience went out the window. I don’t like phone calls or incompetence. I loathe having to deal with people. I despise red tape and bureaucratic bullshit. We all have those things to contend with but I just can’t handle it anymore.

The Ex-Files – Up On The Roof Top

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A couple of years before the kids and I left CP, he thought he could get some rent knocked off if he offered to re-shingle the roof of the house we were living in. The landlord, Mr. K, was a very understanding man so we were pretty sure he would go for it, especially since CP had experience in the roofing industry. So he thought. He actually only worked for a year or so for a cousin of his and thought he was a professional after that. Go figure.

My parents rented that house for a while before CP and I lived there. I lived there as well before I ventured out on my own. We lived there for several years before my parents split and then my Dad lived there with my sisters. When my sisters moved out on their own, Dad decided to take a job elsewhere so the house was up for grabs. CP and I jumped at the chance to get in that house and out of our shitty little apartment. Anyway, the roof hadn’t been re-shingled in quite some time and was due for a make-over.

Mr. K agreed to knock off a month’s rent or maybe more, I don’t recall now. Mr. K furnished the materials and CP was to do the work. Well, my Dad came home on the weekends and for holidays so he was there quite often to help with things. (God knows I couldn’t get CP to fix anything in a timely manner, so Dad took care of those things when he came home.) Dad offered to help with the roof, of course. CP was very particular about how it was supposed to be done and he gave Dad detailed instruction so it would be done right. As if Dad was born yesterday and never did anything in his life. Give me a break.

I don’t remember how CP’s brother, Tom, got involved but he came over to help with the roof. CP had to make sure both Tom and my Dad understood how to use a plumb-line because that was the only way to make sure the shingles were on straight. Naturally, CP was such a pro that he, himself did not need to use the plumb-line. While they were all working in the hot sun on the roof, Tom would make wisecracks (all in fun) about how serious CP was and CP was getting pissed. Dad and Tom would chuckle a little and continue working. Tom didn’t let up though. He kept giving CP a hard time about this, that, and the other. Mostly, he gave him shit about why he wasn’t using a plumb-line because his lines weren’t straight! Dad told me later that CP was fuming and his head looked like it would explode. At the end of the day, the job was nearly done and CP told Tom he wouldn’t need any more help.

It’s a good thing it didn’t rain because the roof sat unfinished for several days. I thought to myself, that son of a bitch is going to just leave it unfinished like he does every fucking thing else around here! The next weekend, Dad was back and he decided to finish the roof. Of course, he was respectful and offered CP his services. CP wasn’t too thrilled about it but because he had to work, he gave in. He gave Dad explicit instructions to use the plumb-line so the shingles would be straight. He bitched about half the shingles weren’t properly lined up and he wasn’t referring to what he did himself. Dad was a little aggravated, of course. He told CP that they used the goddam plumb-line so the shingles he and Tom put up were straight. CP insisted that Mr. K was going to be pissed and that he’d have to do the whole roof over again. Dad told him that you can’t even tell from the ground if anything is crooked or not.

Dad finished that job and when CP came home from work, he was already prepared to have to purchase materials and start over on the roof. He wasn’t happy about the expense since this was supposed to help us with the rent. Mr. K came over the next evening after CP came home from work. He went up on the ladder, looked around at the roof, and came back down. He said, “That looks great! Good job!” We got our discount on the rent and guess who took all the credit for such a good job? That good-for-nothing ex of mine, that’s who. He never thanked my Dad or Tom for the help. He never offered any compensation, not that Dad would have taken it, but it would have been a nice gesture.

I still can’t believe I was with that man for 12 freakin’ years! Do you ever just want to kick yourself?