#Meowsters4President

So!

Last Friday, I got the final internal denial letter for a functional, safe wheelchair.

Last Saturday, I ate shit in my poorly fitted hemiheight with shot brakes.

Sunday was spent recording this spiteful little meme song in a goddamn neck brace.

Monday—today—it’s finally edited and live on Ko-fi.

I've been in a wheelchair for years now, right? Well, as happens sometimes, I got a new bus driver this morning. They were struggling and nervous about lining up the ramp, which is perfectly normal. I can be patient about that and offer some calm reassurance.

What is normalized and not okay is the asshole outside insisting that the ramp placement is wrong and said driver listening to him after I've said it's fine. Said asshole continued nitpicking for another 10 minutes, then insisted they'd have to help me off.

Important to note:

1. I'm in a motorized chair and didn't need help getting on

2. I fucking said multiple times that I did not need, nor want him to touch me

I still kept getting talked over until I put my foot down about getting off the damn bus, and guess what? Everything was fine, just like I said.

Pros: legs to the rescue.

Cons: I’d forgotten handles make people forget every word and scrap of manners they’ve ever learned.

Do not touch a wheelchair without asking—EVER.

The only reason I have very few injuries from people “helping” is bc I literally have boots on the ground. That didn’t stop someone from spraining my ankle just now, but honestly? Best case scenario.

This latest incident is brought to you by a woman pushing my chair when my left caster got stuck in the elevator. While I appreciate the intent, I need folks to consider the following:

If someone’s pants were caught on a thorn bush, would you touch them without asking?

NO.

Same principle applies to wheelchairs (and all mobility aides).

In order to free my caster, all I had to do was pop a wheelie, then push forward. This woman pushing me unexpectedly fucked that up. Let me translate this into abled:

She silently grabbed my belt and jerked me into the thorn bush.

This nearly broke my fingers, but if my legs didn’t work at all? I would’ve been thrown from my wheelchair, headfirst, into our very small elevators. Even if I’d tried to catch myself, my wrists would’ve disassembled on impact.

Something important to note about wheelchair physics:

If we are tipped forward, or thrown from our chairs, our heads will probably hit whatever’s one torso away and at/just below chin height.

In my case, that would’ve meant my eye socket would hit those flat, metal handles most people never think of. Mind you, ours aren’t flush with the wall either.

Did I mention that my neck just naturally falls apart in slow motion? Cause yeah, it does that.

To top off this shit sundae, she dinged my already wobbly left brake. It’s well and truly shot now.

If anybody would like to chip in on what is now the brake repair/jewelry tools fund, that’d be fucking swell.

Note: I don’t want your fucking money if you have to do math. I do, however, want your reblogs regardless.

Think of all the wheelchair users in the world.

Think of your loved ones.

this post is like 11 years old

They were free.

They were fucking free.

They were maybe ¢60 of acrylic yarn each at the most, and the whole ziploc bag of them took 2 hours max.

Three people gave me sad eyes until I took their money.

Someone who was clearly the mom friend of their group made me take a $5 and gave a 10 minute pep talk.

At least four more people insisted on getting change to pay for the, once again, free bracelets.

In spite of all these shenanigans, the absolute best was this one person who I can only describe as, “queer surfer dude who looks like a boyfriend who looks like a girlfriend.” I can remember nothing of the outfit, only the impeccable vibes. I did the same thing I did with everyone else, explaining the bracelets were free, and they nodded along as they took the last 6 strand rainbow bracelet. As soon as they had it on their wrist, they pointed at something over my shoulder and, like a fool, I looked.

Next thing I know, they’re running off cackling, yelling, “YOU’LL NEVER CATCH ME!” and I’m holding a fucking $20. I had to stop at least two people from chasing them, cause they thought the person stole something, and then they tried to give me money cause they thought it was funny seeing me flail over people being Too Nice.

And that happened over and over. People telling me I'm worth more, my art is worth more.

I cried multiple times that day.

They were free.

They were fucking free.

They were maybe ¢60 of acrylic yarn each at the most, and the whole ziploc bag of them took 2 hours max.

Three people gave me sad eyes until I took their money.

Someone who was clearly the mom friend of their group made me take a $5 and gave a 10 minute pep talk.

At least four more people insisted on getting change to pay for the, once again, free bracelets.

In spite of all these shenanigans, the absolute best was this one person who I can only describe as, “queer surfer dude who looks like a boyfriend who looks like a girlfriend.” I can remember nothing of the outfit, only the impeccable vibes. I did the same thing I did with everyone else, explaining the bracelets were free, and they nodded along as they took the last 6 strand rainbow bracelet. As soon as they had it on their wrist, they pointed at something over my shoulder and, like a fool, I looked.

Next thing I know, they’re running off cackling, yelling, “YOU’LL NEVER CATCH ME!” and I’m holding a fucking $20. I had to stop at least two people from chasing them, cause they thought the person stole something, and then they tried to give me money cause they thought it was funny seeing me flail over people being Too Nice.

1.) While people absolutely fumble this trope sometimes, someone somewhere has fumbled every trope in the book. That doesn’t change the fact that it became a trope in the first place because it resonates with a lot of people.

2.) If you are not one of those people, you don’t have to read it. In fact, if it makes you upset, you can curate your experience and avoid it with a clear conscience.

3.) If you are not one of those people, you don’t have to shit on the people who do like it. You will likely be happier spending your energy elsewhere. The people who are just enjoying themselves will definitely be happier without the unnecessary negativity.

Customer: Oh wow

Me: Is everything alright?

Customer: Oh yes, it’s just that you’re so good at this, I thought you were a recording at first

Me, internally: Your, “most people only call me a robot *after* they know I’m Autistic,” joke is an inside thought until you can get to Tumblr; same with the, “script writer,” bit.

[image description: a screenshot of tags by tumblr user uwuplasmiusuwu that say the following: “#disabled humor #autistic culture #thank you whoever liked this so that I could find the post again #MY PHONE ETIQUETTE IS FLAWLESS #IM SO SMOOTH I DONT GOT FRICTION #WHY AM I FAILING THE TURRING TEST?!?!” /end ID]

Me: This is Ebony at—

Patient: Goddammit, why do they only have their fucking voicemail?!

Me, sensing bullshit: You’re trying to reach the *other* department, aren’t you?

Me: Hi, this is Ebony calling from your doctor’s office

Patient: *hits buttons*

Me: Hello? Are you still—

Patient: Oh my god!

Me, trying not to laugh: Nope, just Ebony.

Patient: I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but I thought—

Patient: “To confirm your appointment, please press 1.”

I have no choice but to break down in helpless laughter as I try to reassure people, “I’m not at all offended, this is just the [3rd to 14th] time today someone’s told me that.”

Me: Hi this is Ebony at—

Patient: My name is [redacted], date of birth [redacted], and my phone number is [redacted].

Me: Okay, could I have your address to sign into your chart?

Patient: *rattled it off*

Me: Great! Okay, what can I help you with today?

Patient: Make my doctor call me.

Me: Can I have a few more details? What problems are you having?

Patient: Ugh!

Patient: Speak to a representative.

Me:

Me, holding back tears: Friend…

Patient: NOOOO— *hangs up*

[I did call back, but I needed to laugh first]

____

Me: Thank you for choosing [Practice], and have a great day!

Patient: Aww, I was gonna say happy holidays.

Me: Oh, same to you.

Patient: Wait, that wasn’t a recording??

____

Patient: My date of birth is [tomorrow].

Me: Happy early birthday!

Patient: Huh.

Me: Something wrong?

Patient: Okay, don’t take this the wrong way, but do you know what the Turing test is?

Me: Sir, I’m gonna be so honest with you. I am sitting on my hands because the urge to do a Siri bit is *strong*.

Patient: But that’d be fucking hilarious!

Me: Yes, but this is a doctor’s office. They wouldn’t want to ding me for being funny, but the quality team would have to.

Patient: Aww.

I want you to know that 1.) you are the first person to pull this and 2.) I need it framed on my wall.

The problem is that—aside from it fucking with the patients, which is Not Cool—either 1.) they and whoever audits the call get the reference, or 2.) I have to explain it.

I barely survive contact with second hand embarrassment. This would one-shot my ass.

Monday, Dec. 23rd 2024 is the best day to reliably request any year-end meds. This goes double if it’s new—do not get fucked by prior authorizations!

If you need a prior authorization, ask the office/pharmacy to request an expedited one from your insurance. Even with that, your insurance may still drag it out. They absolutely will if you don’t try tho.

Noon on Friday, Dec. 27th is pretty much last call for year-end refills. Everyone is calling in. Your doc is almost certainly not open to process orders on weekends. Being realistic here, depending on their caseload, you still may not make the cut.

If you request a refill after Friday, Dec. 27th 2024, it is probably not getting filled until January. Please still try if you need the refill, but I’m not gonna sugarcoat it. This is not necessarily because your doc’s office isn’t trying. It’s much more likely that they’re short due to holidays & illness.

Whatever you do, do not lose your shit. There are shitty people in healthcare, and you should be able to get mad about it. Do not lose your shit at the office! If you do, you may be barred from that practice. No idea how it looks elsewhere, but it’s a 2-4+ month wait for new patients at nearly every PCP/specialist in DC, MD and VA. I know, it fucking sucks sometimes. Please don’t risk your access to life sustaining care.

Please be kind. A lot of the healthcare workers who don’t suck are disabled and/or otherwise marginalized. We get it, and we’re drowning over here. If you act like we’re all UHC CEOs, we’re gonna burn out trying to help you. Then, you really may be left with everyone who’s aiming for that job.

Everything I’ve said also applies to pharmacies. They’re damn near criminally short on a normal day. Q4 is hell, and the last two weeks are Black Friday: extended edition. They’re painfully aware that someone will go without, even if they work themselves to collapse. Yelling at them isn’t going to help you, it’ll likely just lead to a nervous breakdown and/or early closure.

Sincerely,