(*Note* — I apologize for the length, but since I’m asking for help, I thought you deserved to know some of the backstory.)
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This is a very hard diary to write. It’s actually taken me more than a day already. Yet, even now, I’m still not sure if I can actually publish it.
I am not one to ask for help. I try to be self-sufficient as much as possible, and have tried in every way I can in this situation — but to no avail so far.
Frankly, I was not going to write this diary — at least not this way. My original intent was solely to ask for help for my two “pooties” — Tiger and Smokey. But on the advice of a fellow Kossack, I was encouraged to ask for what I really needed, and perhaps, in the process, be able to help my furbabies as well.
I’ve tried to find every possible alternative to avoid this, but there are no other answers that will help in time, and the clock/calendar is becoming my enemy. I am being evicted from my apartment at 10:30am on 10/4/16 — next Tuesday. So my situation has now become desperate,
My original purpose for this diary, if I had to write it at all, was to find a foster or — if absolutely necessary — permanent home for my two “pooties”, Tiger and Smokey. I’ve had them since finding them on a cinder block in a neighbor’s driveway when they were just 4 days old. I fed them with an eye dropper every few hours because they couldn’t figure out the bottle. I massaged their rears to help them pee and poop. I treated Tiger’s UTI & inflamed bottom, gave them flea baths, and kept them healthy. I am the only mother they have known for the last 8 years, and they are my family.
That was never more true than after my husband died in January 2014. Ephraim (Eph for short) was the love of my life, and I had spent the previous 4+ years being his 24/7 caregiver as we dealt with first open heart surgery, then an aneurysm repair, then a gastric bleeding episode that nearly killed him (well, the hospital did that), then the discovery that he had stomach cancer (adenocarcinoma), then a total gastrectomy (stomach removal), chemo, side effects of chemo, rehab to recover from chemo, return of the cancer, more chemo, metastasis of the cancer, then radiation, then… eventually, death. He went through all of that while also being a hemophiliac and a diabetic (at least until he lost 80lbs from the chemo and no stomach).
I sat with him through every puking session, changed every dressing, administered every medication (including IV’s), took him to every appointment, designed a blood sugar management program for him that worked better than anything the “professionals” gave us, fought every battle with both the doctors and his Medicare HMO, etc. I also handled all the bills, ran the house, did the cooking & cleaning, did the shopping, managed what was at times a brutal schedule (especially for Eph), and more.
It was exhausting and draining and the hardest thing I’d ever gone through (which is saying a LOT — someday I’ll write the whole story), but I didn’t care — it was all worth it. We were soulmates from the moment we’d met in 2005, and our time together so far had been much too short. Anything that gave me another day, hour, or moment with him was good.
Needless to say, caring for him through all this WAS my full-time job, so I was unable to work outside the home. We survived on his Social Security Disability (SSD) check — but not well. As the copayments for his treatments and meds added, up, along with rent, utilities, phone, car payment (we’d gotten the car before he got sick, when I was working & we could afford the payments — but we still needed it due to Eph’s medical needs, even though the payments were now beyond our budget), car insurance, etc — there just was never enough to go around. We were operating in the red monthly, and soon the little bit we’d managed to save by moving to PA (where the rents were far less than my former NYC apartment) was wiped out.
With all those other expenses, we couldn’t afford life insurance, even those allegedly “cheap” plans they advertise for people over 50 on the TV. So there was nothing for me to fall back on when he passed away. In fact, even Eph’s SSD ended the very day he died (Jan. 23, 2014). Well, technically it ended on Jan 1st, because they don’t pay benefits (not even pro-rated) for the month in which the person dies… no matter how much of that month they had lived, or how many expenses may have been incurred on their behalf. All you get is a check for $255 (allegedly for funeral expenses)… not even enough to cover the cost of the ambulance that took him to the ER a few days before he took his last breath, let alone a funeral.
Thankfully his father and sister paid for Eph’s cremation (which they apparently are miffed about, as neither has spoken to me once since). There was no actual funeral though, as no one could (or would, in some cases) chip in for that… I just got a small case with his ashes in it a week later, like getting a package from Amazon or something. Frankly, he deserved better. But his family is like that (I often wondered how he, with his huge heart and generous spirit, came from them.)
I never realized until then how much such rituals matter. I honestly feel that, aside from how much in love we were, and how I feel like half my soul is missing without him, somehow the lack of any kind of wake or memorial made dealing with his death a hundred times harder. Of course, there’s no way to know for sure if it really would’ve helped me that much. All I know is that not doing it made missing him hurt more — and still does more than 2 years later.
Those ashes, set in a heavy marble case (NOT my idea — that was the sister’s doing), along with some pictures like the one above, his recliner, his favorite flannel shirt (that I wear often now), and a couple of his hats (that I also wear sometimes) are all I have from the best (and sometimes worst — but still wonderful because we were together) nine years of my entire life.
We had met in 2005, online, and fell in love before ever meeting face to face. We had married in 2006, and moved to PA in 2007 for the cheaper rents. We had a brief period of just getting to enjoy each other (including rooting for and volunteering to help Obama win in 2008) before the healthcare nightmare began. But even through all those health issues, as long as we had each other, we could survive anything. Or we thought so — until he passed away in my arms.
When I came home that day from the hospice center where he’d spent his last few nights, I didn’t even know how to breathe. I sat in his recliner — the same one I’m sitting in now (even though it’s quite old and getting raggedy now), with his coat around my shoulders, because it smelled like him. I couldn’t even think or cry. I just stared into space.
Tiger came and curled up on my left side — right where he is now, in fact — laid his head on my left shoulder and just started purring. A short time later, Smokey made herself a nice warm, comfy spot on my lap as well. JJ (our older orange tabby who had been closest with Eph, and who went to the Rainbow Bridge a few short months later — I still think from grief) sat above my head on the back of the recliner, right where he’d always sat when Eph was in the chair.
Their presence helped me get through the next few hours, then days, then weeks, then months. They gave me a reason to get out of bed in the morning. They needed me — and I needed them, more than ever. I had rescued all of them (including JJ) once — and now they were rescuing me from the sea of grief I was drowning in.
It goes without saying that I never wanted to have to think about giving them up. But now I’m facing homelessness. Both of these cats are strictly “indoor” cats that have never been outside without being in a carrier since they came into my care. They can’t just start walking the streets with me even with a harness and leash (Tiger, most of all, as he’s literally afraid of his own shadow) — and frankly, I’m not sure I can walk the streets myself.
I’ve had arthritis since I was 16 years old. It started in my lower spine back then, but now it’s nearly everywhere. I have it in my hands/fingers, shoulders, neck, spine, hips, knees and feet. I can’t stand for more than 10-15 minutes (which complicates waiting for buses), or walk more than a few blocks without severe pain. I also have a badly-healed fractured vertebrae from an accident that is pinching a nerve in my back, also causing constant, severe pain. I have a hard enough time just managing daily life. Still, once Eph had passed (and actually, many times during the years he was sick as well) pretty much everyone in my life said, “Get a job”, as if that was the answer to everything.
I believe they meant well, even if their “advice” often failed to recognize that I had been working my tail off taking care of my husband for 4 years (it doesn’t count if it doesn’t come with a paycheck), or that I was suffering from, along with the grief, a bit of PTSD from the shock of going from the frenetic activity of taking care of him to … nothing at all. (Note — I’d gone through the same thing shortly after my first husband passed, for the same reason… at the time telling a counselor I felt like I finally understood what the term “shell shocked” meant… and so thought I was prepared for it this time, but not as well as I’d hoped).
The truth is, though, I wanted to work. I needed the money desperately, of course. I also very much needed the distraction from my grief. Besides, even if I’d been seeking to go on SSD at the time, there was no way I could have survived without income for the anywhere from 6 months to 2 years it can take to get approved. Hell, at the time I didn’t even have a doctor, as Obamacare was just getting off the ground, and I’d been uninsured since we moved to PA in 2007. So how would I prove my physical problems with no doctor to sign off and no recent test results? It’s not like missing an arm or something — they can’t “SEE” you’re in pain (and often assume you’re exaggerating how much pain).
The next couple of months were extremely difficult. Along with having no income, the car that Eph and I had been struggling to pay for all that time had been totaled just a few weeks before he died when I hit a patch of black ice and skidded into two light poles. I wasn’t hurt, but the car was a mess. The insurance covered the outstanding balance of the loan, and a rental for me for up to 30 days — but that’s all. There was nothing left to replace the car with (not even enough for a downpayment). The rental had to go back 4 days after Eph died. After that, I had no car — and still don’t.
I applied for help of course, but being a single adult, I was only given SNAP and Medicaid. Nevermind that my rent was overdue and the electricity was about to be cut off, or that it takes money even to get on the bus to go look for a job — no kids, no cash. So I had to ask for help then as well, and thankfully a friend came to the rescue with enough of a loan for me to cover the rent, stop the electric shut-off, and have gas to get to any interviews as I looked for work. Most important was the loan of their pickup truck in addition to the cash, which made it possible for me to find a job a short time later.
The new job was at a healthcare customer service contractor, in their call center. I loved the work, and it definitely helped as a distraction for me, as well as for income. It was almost 40 miles away, up on top of a mountain in the middle of nowhere, and I never could have gotten the job without a car, as no public transit went anywhere near it. Even so, the daily commute was at least an hour each way (due to traffic, road work, etc.) and sometimes longer. Most nights I’d come home so exhausted from the driving and work itself that I’d fall asleep before I even ate anything — usually in Eph’s old recliner. Sitting in it felt like one of his warm, generous hugs.
Just before the 1 year anniversary of Eph’s passing, after I’d been hired permanently (I’d started out as a temp employee), they allowed me to start working from home — taking the calls via their equipment and my cable modem right in my own living room. It was awesome!!
No more long commute, no more traffic jams or construction detours. Get up — make coffee — sign in. That’s all. I missed interacting with coworkers during break time, but I spent all day on the phone with healthcare plan customers, many of whom were going through some of the same things Eph and I had endured. I could easily empathize with them, and felt I was doing something useful and worthwhile in helping resolve their problems (at least those involving their coverage). Plus, I loved the convenience of working remotely, and it showed in my performance reviews.
Last summer (2015), my friend needed the truck back. Since I was working from home now, there was no reason to delay. Besides, how could I refuse? I’d already had it for nearly a year, which was incredibly generous.
Unfortunately, I was nowhere near able to replace it with a car of my own. My wages from the job were just slightly over $11/hr. Between taxes, health insurance premium, 401k deduction (mandatory 1.5%), my paycheck was already looking rather puny before it ever hit my account. What was left went for rent, utilities, keeping the cable modem on (necessary for work), and anything left over went toward the mountain of bills I was paying off from Eph’s illnesses. I had to keep up at least minimal payments on these, or else they would get a judgment and start garnishing my wages (which had happened once before, after my first husband’s death — also from cancer) — which would have let them take even more. I was still repaying that loan from my friend as well.
With all that, there was nothing left in any paycheck for anything else. I didn’t go anywhere except to get groceries. I never saw a movie, or ordered anything online. Everything I ate I cooked myself. I was living paycheck to paycheck in every sense of the word. Many times I went all day on nothing but coffee and a single pack of instant oatmeal to save money. But I was getting by.
So there was no money to buy even a cheap used car. There wasn't any money for a downpayment either — nor could I qualify for a loan. My income was too low, my time on the job (since they only counted my permanent hire date) too short, and my outstanding debts (mostly the medical stuff, plus student loans) were too high. Not having anything for a downpayment just verified I was a “bad risk”.
They were right, too. Even if I had qualified for a loan, I couldn’t really afford to have that extra monthly payment hanging over me. A second job was also out of the question, as my schedule at the call center changed every 3 months, and they had strict rules about working a second job as well. Also, without any dependents to claim, a second job would have gone mostly to a higher tax rate — which wouldn’t help.
So it was going to be tough enough to carry just the insurance and basic maintenance on a car, without having to pay on a loan. Also, with a loan, the insurance is more, as you have to carry the full coverage, not just liability. Still, since I was working from home, and mostly everything else I needed (grocery store, pharmacy, post office, even doctor) was either within walking distance (which for me is less than 6 blocks maximum) or a relatively inexpensive taxi ride away (usually for coming home w/groceries), I wasn’t worried. I thought I had time to continue paying down the debts and then eventually save some cash to buy a used car outright.
That was until March of this year, when, after having worked from home for 15 months at that point, and with great performance reviews, the company decided they wanted me back at the office. They never gave me a good reason why this was necessary, saying it was for “training” for a new program they were taking on. However previously, they’d done training sessions for the remote staff totally online, so it didn’t make sense that this one was different. Also, this wasn’t for a week or so — it was to last at least 2 months, possibly longer. There was no way I could impose on the one or two people who might be close enough to my area to give me a ride every day for that long — plus we weren’t all on the same schedules anyway.
Both my immediate supervisor and her boss knew I had no car and lived more than 40 miles from the office. They, and HR, were also well aware there was no public transit that went anywhere near the office location. Still, they insisted, and when I couldn’t comply they fired me, as of April 12, 2016.
At least I was able to qualify for unemployment, and they didn’t fight it. I wasn’t all that worried at first. With my excellent communication skills, secretarial school training, and recent work experience — as well as a resume that’s gotten dozens of compliments for style alone (and is even used by one of my old teachers as an example for a resume writing class she teaches back in NYC), I was confident that I could find another job quickly. After all, the recession is over and unemployment is low — right?
Well, as it turns out, not so much. Or at least not if you don’t have your own transportation. Over and over again, interested potential employers would tell me that they’d “love” to hire me, IF I had a car. But they just couldn’t if I was relying on public transit, because they knew how unreliable it was — or because they’d want me to work a later shift, and I’d have no way to get home (the buses stop running — completely — at 6pm). Many encouraged me to apply again as soon as I had reliable transportation. Like that was going to happen while I was unemployed and slowly running out of even the UI benefits?
At this point, I’m 22 weeks (as of when I file this Sunday) into my 26 wks of unemployment benefits, and still have no job. My landlord knows this, and decided he didn’t want to wait any longer to see if I’d find work or if he was going to get “stuck” for the rent, so he started eviction proceedings earlier this month (there’s more to this story, but this is already long enough). The judge sided with the landlord, saying that he was renting to me “at will” since there was no lease (I wanted one, the landlord did not... now I know why), and therefore the landlord didn’t have to have a reason to put me out. That’s why my eviction is set for 10/4 at 10:30am.
Making things even more challenging, my next UI benefit won’t hit my account until that very morning. Which leaves me almost no time at all to go get a truck and load my things (whatever I can hold onto anyway) into it before the Sheriff comes. I’ve put in a call asking if they can make it in the afternoon instead, to give me time to clear out — but haven’t gotten a call back yet.
So my original intent for this diary (and I am sorry this is so long, but I figure if I’m going to ask for help, you have a right to know why) was to see if anyone here, particularly among those in the “Pootie” community, would be willing to foster Tiger and Smokey — TOGETHER — at least for a short time while I try to figure all this out. However, after I’d commented about my impending homelessness in another diary, bfitzinAZ suggested that I should also ask for help for the other half of my problem — obtaining a vehicle — and that, if it works out, I might actually be able to keep my babies with me.
While keeping them in a car with me is certainly NOT ideal, it would be a huge comfort to me to have them, and they would be safe (harnessed, leashed, in a carrier any time I’m driving, with appropriate food and litter accommodations, as well as warmth and/or cool air as needed, etc.) Worst case, I might still have to find a foster for them eventually, but it would buy me some time. And if I saw that they were not doing well in the car, I would immediately do whatever was best for them, of course. But they are so tightly bonded to me that I do think they would be okay as long as I’m with them — possibly even more so than if they were in a “home” but not with me.
So for their sake and my own, I am taking the advice, even though it is beyond embarrassing to even have to admit being in this situation, and asking for help — financial help — to try and obtain a vehicle. My hope is to be able to get it before the eviction on Tuesday, but worst case, I can keep the U-Haul for a day or so, to help me get to whichever vehicle I’m able to buy — if any.
Let me point out, I haven’t been idle all this time. I have spent the last couple of weeks trying to find alternatives. I’ve checked with family, friends and even former co-workers — those I trusted to be good guardians anyway — about fostering the kitties, but with no luck. I’ve looked into rooming houses, halfway houses, shelters, etc. Not much luck with that either, although I’m on several waiting lists, including for public housing.
One problem is that I’m not a “priority” case, despite my impending homelessness and age. My various physical limits are not “certified”, meaning I’m not currently on SSD, and being on Unemployment means I’m saying I’m still able to work (which I am, as long as I can sit down to do it). All those waiting lists have priorities, and those with disabilities get the first shot — IF the disability is “certified” by the person being on either SSI or SSD. So I’m behind everyone else who has a disability right now, regardless of my actual physical state.
I have applied for SSD and SSI, but both take time to be processed. SSI (which is usually for those who are disabled but have no work history to base payments on) can sometimes be used as a sort of stop-gap measure to provide minimal income while the SSD application is being processed and/or appealed. But there’s no guarantee I’ll qualify for that, and even if I do, it can take 3 months, or longer if you have to appeal. The SSD can take anywhere from 6 months to 2 years depending on if you have to appeal (which something like 80% or more of applicants do), and if it takes more than one appeal before you’re approved (if at all).
For Eph, who had gone through it before we met, it had taken 17 months. For my godmother, 13 months. In both cases, they had full medical records documenting their health issues, and doctors they’d been seeing for years signing off on it. Both still had to go through the appeals process anyway. So it’s not a quick process.
In my case, my medical records are far more spotty due to the years I had no coverage, and the fact that in the last 2 years I went from being on Medicaid, then Obamacare, to being on the plan from work, to now being on Medicaid again — including having to change doctors every time. So even the records I do have are not consistent. That complicates, and is very likely to delay, things even more.
This means that my one option to avoid literally sleeping in doorways is if I can get a car. I don’t mean anything fancy or a specific type (although a van would be the most useful under the circumstances). Basically anything that runs decently without needing major, costly work I can’t afford to have done, is fine. Even if it’s a gas guzzler, I’ll take it (I don’t plan on driving that much unless I find work anyway), as it’s mostly just for me to live in until either one of these agencies has an opening or I find work.
I can shower at truck stops, and possibly at the YWCA if I can get to it (transportation again). I can keep my clothes clean at the laundromat. But if I can’t get into a shelter, then I need a place to sleep, to keep my cell phone and tablet charged so I can call for help or apply for jobs, etc., and to stay warm/dry as we head into fall and winter.
That is the primary purpose of needing the vehicle — one without a monthly loan payment, as keeping up with the insurance will be tough enough once the unemployment ends. The second but equally important purpose is that it eliminates the major obstacle I’ve had in finding work… being able to say I have my own transportation when asked. Finally, it also allows me to hold onto my sweet kitties a bit longer, and hold onto the hope to get us all back into a home again if I can find work.
So, at bfitzinAZ’s suggestion, I’ve set up a GoFundMe page here: gofundme.com/2rrh7ds4
If someone would prefer to do the Paypal thing, you can use my MOELOE1126 at AOL dot COM email address as the “send to”.
Also, I have a prepaid debit card for my UI benefits, and there is a way to add money to that. If anyone wishes to do this instead of going through the other services, send me a Kosmail and I’ll give you the info. However, where the other options take their fee from my end, for the debit card, the fee is paid by the sender, so keep that in mind when deciding.
The amount I listed on the GoFundMe site includes the cost of a used car paid in full, as well as registration, initial insurance & inspection, and for getting a truck to get my things out of this apartment by Tuesday. Anything left over will go, along with my few remaining weeks of unemployment, toward insurance, gas, food, cell phone (which provides my internet connection, and along with my tablet — both of which can be charged in the car — will allow me to keep applying for jobs as well as stay in touch here), laundry, etc.
Also, I know it’s been suggested that I let the furniture go and just keep what mementos (pictures, Eph’s ashes, etc) I want in the car with me. I understand this thinking, but I also have to have hope. I need to believe I’m going to have a home again, eventually. So I need to hold onto some of the basics of setting up housekeeping — even if it means costing a bit extra.
A small storage unit goes for about $50-70/mo… and it will be big enough — if packed right — to hold my twin bed, a folding card table that I can use for a kitchen table as needed, a couple of small chairs, Eph’s recliner, my TV and desktop PC, and a few boxes with my dishes/cookware, pictures, Eph’s ashes, and other personal items — as well as my off-season clothes.
It’s not much, but along with my two sweet kitties, it’s all I have left of the life Eph and I had shared. Maybe I’m being a sentimental idiot. Certainly it’s always possible I’ll be unable to use the stuff again, or keep up the storage payments and lose it all in an auction. But I just can’t bear to part with all of it yet.
Finally…
I don’t know what to say, really. Most of you barely know me, if at all. Even though I’ve been a member here since 2013, I was mostly a “lurker” for a good portion of that time. I’d occasionally comment on something here or there, but it’s only recently that I started commenting regularly, and then finally, publishing my own diaries. Still, you have no reason to care what happens to me or my cats.
But I’ve gotten to know a few of you, at least through our interactions here, and I know that all of you are caring people who want to make the world a better place. That is my hope as well...a rather odd thing to wish for when I can’t even make my own life better at the moment, but I guess that’s what makes us liberals.
If you can help and choose to, I can only say thank you, from the bottom of my heart. From myself, from Tiger and Smokey, and maybe even most of all, from Ephraim, who I know never wanted this to be the final chapter of our love story. I wish you all could have known him. He was one in a million.
I can’t write any more… hard to see the screen through the tears.