Tonight I was installed as Chaplain for the local Women of the Moose Chapter.  I was actually a few minutes early for the meeting, which any more is a miraculous thing.  I used to be one of those annoyingly early people, I was early for everything.  When I was working I would get to work sometimes an hour or more early and have to just sit there until it was time to start working.

I left the house 2 hours early, I had a 45 minute drive and I was always afraid of traffic being bad, or something else happening.  Not to mention that at my last job, the parking lot was enormous, but nowhere big enough to hold the cars of everyone who worked in the building.

I worked for an insurance company, as an car insurance agent, (oh, quit hissing, I was a customer service agent, and a very nice one at that.)  We worked in various shifts as we were open 24 hours a day. Now, I worked an odd shift that started at 12, 1 or 2 PM depending on the day of week.  And no one was getting off at that time of day.  I would spend a lot of time to find any parking space at all.  Nevermind a close one, it was a fight to not to have to park in the middle of the road and hope no one would hit you.

On a good day, I timed it right that someone was going out for lunch when I was coming in, and I could slid right into a space, and head in to get myself together.  On a bad day, I'd end up parking at the farthest reaches of the parking lot.  The walk to get to the building was a good 12 minutes, then I had to go to the furthest reaches of the building to get to my desk. Yes, I worked in a cube farm, only we didn't even really have cubes.  We had sections with only a short wall to block you from those around you.

Which, in a call center situation sucks.  You're sitting there with a headset stuck to your head, calls coming in constantly, trying to understand what the policyholder was saying, all the while wishing you were far, far away.  The first 4 or 5 hours of my day were always like that.  Too many coworkers, too many calls, too much everything.  By the time my section emptied out, I was glad to be left alone.

And alone I was.  Most evenings (I worked 10 or 12 hour shifts, dependent on the day) I was the only person for a long way in the building.  We had a smaller crew at night and all of them were grouped together with their supervisors.  Well, being on the weird shift I was, my supervisor left early in the evening, and I was all alone.  

I work well that way.  I very seldom goofed off, at all, as I enjoyed my job and took pride in keeping my calls per paid hour up, and my off the phone time, down.  I sometimes worked with the internet people to help them catch up.  In fact, I was next inline for an internet position when I had to take off work.  I hurt myself the day before our wedding, spent our honeymoon in a wheelchair, and the following week at home in bed trying to recover.

I went back to work, suffering in pain on a daily basis.  Until January 12 of 1999.  I woke up and couldn't sit up without screaming in agony.  It seems that the disc that had herniated, collapsed as I sat up.  I was done for, I called into work, went to various doctors and was put on bedrest.

I knew I had 12 weeks to recover.  And I tried, I followed everything the doctors said, when my time was up, on a walker, ambulating very slowly, I went back into work.  They called me into the General Manager's office and fired me.

Yep, fired me.  Oh, they stated it was a "seperation" (and then later lied to unemployment saying I had quit, bullshit, I loved my job.)  I walked out of the building, in tears, my supervisor had packed my desk up and brought my stuff to me.  She was crying, also.  It seems that she had no say in my firing, and had just been informed that day.

She told me that I was one of the best agents they had, that my stats were the best she had seen in years, she didn't know why they were doing this.  Neither did I.  The only work I had missed, was when I was hurt.  I never called in before I was hurt, I volunteered to work holidays, I didn't goof off, I was extremely nice to the policyholders.  It seems that this company fires those out on FMLA leave, as soon as they can once they're back.  They are a "risk" and could cost the company money.

Not that they were paying me a dime, while I was out.  Hell, I didn't even have their insurance.  I went from being on my Dad's health insurance to my husband's without a single day on theirs.

I was pissed.  I gimped back to my car, where Tony was waiting for me, as we both had a bad feeling before I went into the building.  My supervisor carried my box of stuff to my car for me. 

And we went home.

I haven't worked a day outside of the house since then, as not long after that my injury worsened and I ended up back in bed for months.  I know now that my disability is a progressive one.  I've seen my ability to walk and stand decrease over the past five years.  I use a cane for short distances, a wheelchair for more than that.  I can't lift anything heavy, and standing for more than a minute is painful.

But, I carry on.  I miss my job sometimes, I enjoyed my job, I had some wonderful coworkers, and damnit, I was good at my job.  Sitting here though, thinking about my life and how things turned since then, it's not all bad. 

I got to spend a lot of time taking care of my niece, Kyrsie, which has made us very close.  She calls me Pooh or Aunt Pooh (or Mommy, when she's the "baby".)  She is my little doll and I adore her.  And now, I'm forging a good relationship with RJP III, sure he's only 3 months old, but he loves to be held by me, and you can tell he recognizes me as soon as he hears or sees me.

I've spent more time with my husband, Tony, which is wonderful.  I love being with him, even if it's just sitting in the same room, him reading or watching a movie, and me on the computer.  When we were both working we had very little time together.

I've learned to cook much better, as I have the time to read, and experiment and learn about cooking.  It's a good thing, since before I was an okay cook, but didn't cook very often at all.  Tony thinks this is a very good thing.

And now, I'm becoming very involved in the Women of the Moose.  I was involved when I first became a member, then got married, got hurt, and just couldn't do anything with it.  I transferred to my local chapter, and I'm holding my second office there, already.  I do what I can to help out, I can't do the physical labor, but these women are very understanding and work with me the best they can.

I've written more in the best few years, than ever before.  Sure a lot of it is pure crap, but there are some good pieces there that I plan on rewriting for other places.  I've written for several publications, as well as, an online magazine (not ezine, but magazine) for awhile until they ran out of money.  

All in all, not entirely a bad thing.  Being disabled is not something I would have chosen for myself.  I surely wouldn't choose the chronic pain aspects of it, as that's what gets me down at times.  I can deal with the lack of mobility.  I have my wheelchair, it needs new heavy duty front wheels (why they put light duty wheels on a chair rated for someone with my fat ass is beyond me) but it helps.  I need electric conveyance, since I can't wheel myself.  Wheeling myself in a manual chair is out, as my back can not take the strain.  I've tried it, multiple times, it fucking hurts.  

That will come in time, I hope.  Until then, we make do, we're limited on certain things, but Tony is understanding about my limitations.  We keep on keeping on, taking life one day at a time.  What else can you do?
Suzy Smith