Yesterday I received a call from the the insurance person saying they needed more paperwork … sigh! So I ran around trying to, in the midst of everything else in my world, go about filling out medical disclosure fax forms and getting them to the records departments. Luckily I live close to the facilities the records are at.
This morning, I woke up in one of those moods where my emotions were all over the place. I remembered mentioning to one person that while on FMLA I would be able to spend some time getting my house ready for sale. Suddenly I was freaking out that they thought I was abusing the leave JUST to get my house ready for sale! That thought quickly led to my conversation with the insurance person who had mentioned part of a report mentioning my black belt and that I taught karate. I then was freaking that they thought I was able to teach karate, but not work, even though I had mentioned that teaching karate was a way of giving back, but had become harder and harder for me to do, emotionally. That led to me trying to contact her by phone, I got her voice mail, started to leave a message and broke down in tears, barley getting out my name before I hung up. Later, I was able to call back and leave a more coherent message.
I then send a text message to a teacher at school asking if she would meet me at 5 a.m. or on Saturday to get my thing, but at a time when the principal wouldn’t be there. I can’t do it alone, don’t want to see “the evil one”, and am paranoid that they have deactivated my magnetic key. I’m afraid of being ambushed.
So far, my morning has been filled with fear, tears, paranoia, whooshing sounds in my ears, trying to seem normal in front of my husband (who just got up) and wanting to crawl under the covers and hide. Maybe my morning meds just haven’t kicked in yet. I’ve paced from window to window, watching the birds, wondering what I should do or be doing.
I did get in touch with the medical records person and ask her to put a rush on it, and it seems like she will try to. Maybe she heard the underlying desperation in my voice. I’m wondering if I should see if I can see my psychiatrist tonight. —- Just checked, he’s not in until Saturday.