Your understanding ofof both people with disabilities and the Social Security Disability program is incredibly poor. I bet you didn’t realize that us disabled people can do all kinds of things. We can walk, have sex and on good days even do a bit of physical work. You also seemed to have ignored many of the statements in mymy posts, like these:
1: Because of my injury it takes me ages to get one done. Something that would have taken me a few weeks prior to getting hurt takes me four or five months now
2: and of course limited in the amount I can do at any one time
3: Nothing kills a person faster than becoming sedentary. My prime quest is for knowledge. I have no illusions ofof becoming a body man
4: f I can do some today, great. If I can’t tomorrow is always there
5: If I am doing something and it becomes painful, I can stop and try another day.
6: . I would say 90% of the actual wrench turning is done by the boys (things that are not safe for then to do, I can step in).
Fun fact I am willing to bet that you are unaware that if you are Social security Disabled you can work and still receive benefits. You are severely restricted in the amount of hours you can work and the amount of money you can make.
I don’t have time at the moment to find it, but somewhere on the Social Security website there is a FAQ. In that faq one of the questions is something along the lines of “If I see someone who is on disability doing yard work should I call and report them?” Social security answers that (and I’m doing this from memory so this isn’t an exact quote “Many people with disabilities are able to do limited physical tasks. More than likely you saw them on a GOOD day”.
As I said in my OP, I can do many of the things I did prior to my injury, but I can’t do them very long nor can I do them on constant basis. See, some days the morphine has me so tired I sleep 14 to 16 hours, other days even walking from the bedroom to the kitchen requires a herculean effort. Of course your not there when I’ve spent 20 minutes with the boys in the workshop and I have to tell them that’s it, I can’t do any more. “But dad we’ve only been out here for a little while”, “yeah I know, but I am in too much pain to continue, we will finish tomorrow if I can”. Then I will go inside, take a percocet on top of the morphine and curl up in the fetal position for a few hours.
Or how about when I go to Walmart and park, with my permit, in the handicapped spot? Because I am 6’, 210lbs and for the person who had never met me look healthy, are you going to call the police because you think I am too healthy to be using a disabled permit? Of course you’ll see me enter the store and I look fine, so you assume I’m just a cheat and a lazy ass living of the system. Yet you won’t take the time to follow me through the store. You won’t see that after walking ten or so minutes that I will have to stop for two our three minutes and findas place to sit down. Nor will you see that 1515 minute shopping trip takes me 45 minutes because I have to lean on the car and proceed at a snails pace because of the pain. And more than likely, you won’t notice that when we finish our grocery shopping that when we return to the car I immediately go and sit in the car while my wife unloads the groceries into the trunk because I am unable to lift a bag with two cans and a box ofof Frosted Flakes. And if I am by myself I bet you won’t offer help when I struggle to get the pack of bottles water from the cart. Why would you, you’ve made up your mind, Hell I got out of the car and I wasn’t in a wheel chair. Just someone using the system.
And you of course weren’t there after I broke my back and spent months in physical therapy trying to repair myself so I could go back to my career. Nor were you there when I came to the heart breaking realization that all my years of hard work were over and my career was ended and I realized I could no longer work. See, this happened during my fourth ambulance ride to the hospital in a month because the pain from physical activity was stronger than the medication I had to control it.
You see, I gave up a promising career that I spent 8 years at making close to $100k a year plus gold plated benefits so I could sit at home and watch TV and get $1500 a month. It’s a lot of fun being in your prime earning years and watching your friends buy that vacation home, pay for their daughters wedding, get a new car or by a gadget on a whim, knowing that you will never have that freedom again because you are limited to a fraction of what you should be earning. It’s also comforting to know that many studies have indicated that men that retire early die much sooner than their counter parts who continue to work. But you try to negate some of that risk by doing as much as you can, when you can.
I apologize if I seen angry at your post, but don’t you dare for a second think you can judge me. I worked since I was 14 years old, made a great income and paid my fair share. I got hurt and the system I paid into us making good on the promise that if I took a portion of my earnings and gave it to the government, it would be there if I need it. I miss working so much that I dream about it almost nightly. My family is tired if hearing me talk about my former work and how I wish I could go back. I’m tired if bring depressed because at 46 I have to watch every penny like a hawk because I am unable to earn a decent wage. This injury cost me everything and I’m still paying the price. Excuse me if I am not hurt enough for your standards. Or excuse me being tough enough to not to give up and just pop pain meds and sit on the couch all day waiting to die. And forgive me for wanting to be an involved father with my boys, because I forgot, they should pay the price of my injury as well.
I got news for you my friend, I would give anything to return to work and get my pride and my life back again. Will you hire me? Remember, I can’t stand too long, not can I sit too long. I am sure you won’t mind if I’m late to work most days because I couldn’t wake up because I didn’t sleep all night due to the pain. And if I seemas little out of it for the first few hours it’s just the narcotic fog from the morphine, but no worries, the amphetamine will be kicking in shortly and I’ll be just fine. Oh by the way, I’ll probably be leaving a few hours early today boss because the amphetamine that allows me to stay awake during the day is wearing off and I’m starting to crash. But no problem, tell you what why don’t you let me drive your company vehicle. I have no problems driving so I am positive your business insurer won’t mind the extra liability of letting an employee who is taking strong opioids to use your vehicles. And since you know I’m hurt, you won’t be surprised one day when I pick something up and fall to the floor. I’m sure you are up to date on your Workmanship Comp payments which is good, because I’ll be using that a lot.
Are you going to give me that job now? I hope so because I am ready and willing to work. Or how about in the future instead of thinking you know a person, find out about their situation before rushing into judgment?
Mods, I apologize in advance for the rant. I am not attempting to be combative in GQ, however the door was opened up for me. I am just explaining my situation to this person. Perhaps my post does belong in GQ as everything I have started is pure fact about those of us with disabilities. Thanks for the understanding.
To everyone else, I apologize for the rant. Before anyone here judges me I would suggest you spend a day or two in my shoes before you do.