Showing posts with label money. Show all posts

Home again?





Home again....that's how it felt... home again.
Back in London for a few hours.

A decision to go was made a few days before.
I thought it was just a joke, but it was true.

We tried to find a place to sleep, a place to park, and that was it.
I packed a bag, which meant I took a large bag and had almost nothing in it, decided not to bother about anything, and just go.

I didn't have the time for proper preparations, just got the address and phone number of a friend, in case we would have the time to visit her, and that was it.
We went there with a tight schedule of the check in for the boat, and the event in London, nothing more.

We, my para-son and I. And when the room we could get was for three, we asked who had the time to go with us, so my dance daughter jumped in. (With far less luggage than she carries with her on a daily basis. LOL!) Such a pity her twin sister needed to be at her job.

We left in the middle of the night.
I couldn't sleep at all.
Just left like I was going away for some shopping....

But I was going back... after 50 years.... going back.
Would I have the same feelings about the place?
I hate Rotterdam, I'm OK with Amsterdam, feel a stranger in Paris.
Would I feel at home again in London?

I went there with dad. Roamed the streets for hours on end. Visiting lots.
We even stood in line for the Crown Jewels (but not long) and I had some very strange experiences of knowing my way around the old neighbourhoods outside the center without ever being there, and we didn't have Google Street then.

But first we had to get there.
In the old dodgy car...

A lot and a wishlist...




Today I went on changing the livingroom.
During about 15 years a lot has been collected under the table. Magazines, little things.
So I moved at all aside, put the old table away and exchanged it for two cheap black tables I bought a few years ago.
It looks great!
...when you don't look at the mess I have to sort and put away. LOL!

In the meantime I thought about my birthday (it's saturday).
I don't feel like receiving visitors.
One of my friends already gave me beautiful tulips and a vase, and someone else doesn't really care . I'm her friend when she needs me. It's sad to say, but oh so true.

And the only person who genuinely cares lives in another town and just has lost her sister.

So I'd better go to the place where I want to be: the sea.
A good thought, until I saw the prize for a ticket.
Now with the tree-problem...

It's all about money, isn't it?
Rotten computer, flat mattress, no bicycle, worn out flooring.
There's so much what needs to be done.
The drawer in the kitchen needs to be fixed... tiling in the bathroom needs someone who wants to invest time and sweat.

I'm soo tired....

All I want is a car stopping in front of the house, I hop in with some sandwiches and my bag and there is no need to think about problems and money for one day.
Just some fish at a special place near the beach, some shopping, even though my favorite shop is not open, and a coffee before going on the beach again.

Oh yes, I had a 'small' list of wishes, most of which are far too expensive.

- WW2 British uniform, air force, or ATS with trousers. (for re-enactment)
- Honeysuckle/ kamperfoelie
- small tattoo on wrist... a lotus flower
- a complete make-over
- eyelift
- a job
- somewhere else to live
- a dog
- a good photo camera
- a trip to the northpole
- a parachute jump
- flight in a Lancaster
- flight in s Spitfire
- and someone to grow old with in a kind and caring way.

A girl needs to have some wishes, doesn't she?

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The letter and the tree.




Had to start working again.
It's all for the good of others, volunteer work.
Sometimes it puts people together on jobs they shouldn't be.
We have one person working on the magazine who craves for the honor, to see his name, and boast it's his paper, while others do all the work, and I am one of them.

We, two people, work our butts off, and the guy doesn't do anything but trying to force us into bad written texts that are of no use.
Last edition none of his stuff was published, simply it didn't fit in the special subject, and he was so mad that he wrote a horrible email that set me off to write a mail too, stating I didn't want to work with such a person in this way.

Before I walked away during an editorial board session after I guided the paper through a time of bad weather as the head editor and was confronted with bullying by the person I steppe in for.
Just closed my notes, took my stuff and walked off after a very nice speech, stating I would never ever deal with bullying, not of me, not of others.

And with this guy I had the same.
When I work my butt off, don't tell me afterwards you don't agree with the subject when you had all the time and opportunity to state your case. And certainly don't use words that make me into a person I am not.

Today we had a meeting to solve the issue, as the show must go on.
All I could do was settle for explaining our work, who makes the decisions and why I cancelled one of his stolen texts.
And this in the presence of the regional chairman. I'd asked him to be present.

Well, I don't think much is changed, but I can't leave my other colleague alone. During the meeting she nearly bit his head off, but I understand, she works longer with him than I do.

Well, we'll see.

When I came home a letter was waiting. Ordering to cut the large tree in the garden. (Otherwise they'll throw us out).
We have three trees.
Two can be cut by the boys, no problem.
The other needs a professional attack, costing at least 800 euro, maybe even a 1000.

It's like I expected this to come.
We lived the past year as poor people, eating rather minimal. Not buying anything luxurious.
My daughter often eats at the job, so she doesn't lack anything. In that case I skip dinner.
I know it's not wise, but there is none who cares.
Tomorrow I'll have to see if I have enough money to get that tree down.
So there goes what I've saved to give my children so they can have a proper holiday.

It's just before my birthday. I wanted to go away for the day, give myself a day off from all the stress here. Can't anymore.

It feels like bit by bit all what made this house my home is taken.
The old willow tree, gone.
The nice neighbours, on both sides gone,
Privacy, gone.
I feel lonely here, not at ease anymore.
I miss the link with nature.
It's never silent anymore. When it's a nice day airplaines practie in the sky, when it' a summer day people yell in the gardens and don't care how others feel.
I want to leave here.
So I tried to save some money to do so.

And I can put it in felling a tree.
And be poor again.

It's like I deserve no normal live....


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Admin problems -2-



The appointment for the heart echo arrived.
It's scheduled at the same day as the visit to the cardiologist. So there won't be a written report available during the consultation.

The health insurance was also present in the mailbox. It was agreed I would pay on their site, but  I had to contact them again because there was no payment link.
So I got the bill in the regular mail.
Those people are very very sick!!!

Well, at least I can pay and maybe then all issues will be finally solved. After precisely 6 months of troubles.

Bu I have to solve a problem here at home first: I can sign the card, but it has to be sent in a special envelope.... and I have none.

Now the rent-problem needs to be solved.
I will block payment for the next month tomorrow. I don't want  repeat of the problem.
Something, somewhere has gone wrong.
I paid, like they instructed. My daughter has read the letter a few times too, so we wouldn't make any mistakes.

I've decided that when they persist, I will go to a social worker. Not because I need that, but I want them to know there is some kind of extra eye looking to what they are doing.

Society is becoming more and more anonymous.
We used to be able to walk to the organisation that collected the rent. When something was wrong, we could talk to a real person.
Now we can't go to the office as it's at the other side of the country.

It makes me nervous, especially as they didn't even bother to confirm the emails.
I think it's impolite.
Well, maybe that's my age.... :)

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...and I played calm.



People don't like to read blogs about depression, illness and pain, unless they suffer from the same.
I know that, but I still write about my days, because I think it's important to give an insight what goes on, so people are able to help and support someone to feel better, or live through it too, knowing they're not alone.

No news on the subject of the financial administration. I bugged the organisation that collects the rent to confirm receiving my mail, first by using the regular email account and then I went to the part of the site which is aimed at doing business with homeowners and got a confirmation there. It doesn't mean anything, but I can show I've been busy with them.

Was reading on their site a bit, as they took over the renting out just a month ago, and read we don't have the income to rent in their system. I hope it's for starters. We're in the house over 30 years now.
I want to move but can't find anything I want: a small house near the sea.

Reading this caused a lot of stress.

The past months I've been fighting such a lot, that I'm tired and want some relaxation.
Stress piles up.

This morning my second son came to drive me to the opticien to get my eyes checked.
Before we collected the materials for some tests at the hospital. A cranky nurse gave the stuff.
I've decided to do the urine tests next week. Pity when the results aren't available in time. I couldn't have done it this week.

My eyes aren't checked. There were so many people waiting.
Did some looking around in the shopping center. Found two small books. The covers are of the same fabric and colours as my fabric backpacks. Kind of mexican or peruvian weaving.
Something nice for myself...need that.

Then we went home and when we wanted to leave the car the motor wouldn't stop!!!
My son was completely stressed out, and I played calm.
He managed to stop it after all, and immediately called the friend who is the mechanic.

We need the car this weekend. One of my daughters has to work odd hours at a village that can't be reached by bus in the weekend. And my son needs to go to the airport where they do parachute jumps. This weekend is very important, because they'll work on a movie.

I was glad my second daughter was visiting. She's a very calming person, lots of smiles, and lots to tell. We had a nice time.

In the evening I looked for information about what I can expect from the nephrologist and the preparations for dialysis.

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Admin problems -1-



It was just one of those says again.

Called the hospital to ask when they've planned the heart echo.
Not!

I told the secretary I need the echo done because I need it for the nephrologist.

Got a letter that I have received a warning that the rent for the house hasn't been paid. I have to pay within 3 days otherwise they'll charge another 137 euro.
Are they nuts???

The rent is on automatic payment so it can't be missed.
I check each month if it's paid.
And where was the first warning?
I first thought to neglect it as it might be a scam. But I looked up the emailadress.
Then checked my account: paid, as always.
Things like this make e stress out.

The insurance created a problem too.
Got a mail I have to pay.
But it was already paid. I knew that for sure.
Turned out that they had made a change to my account to get that huge mistake out of the system.
To clean up the lot they had returned the payment to me. Without warning me.
Can happen.
So I went to pay... couldn't.
The same problem as before: no payment link.
**sigh**, this makes me sick.

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39. A caregiver's house



The past years the care for people has moved from professionals to family, or better said; from educated and paid, to uneducated and non-paid.

The influence on me and my family is tremendous.

The oldest went from living in a house with professional care (office within the house), to living in his own apartment without any care at all.

The second son was living in his own apartment, rented from a care-organisation, with 24 hours service from professional caretakers, who had their office in the apartment building.
He suddenly was moved in the administration of a formal renting organisation, and the care was stopped completely. (The young women kept contact for a year, but it was their own initiative.)

My classic autistic son was moved from 24/7 fulltime care in the house with semi-therapeutic care, to his own apartment in the building of the organisation where the professional caretakers have their office and see him a few times a week. Financial care stopped completely so he's terribly in debt.

And I was supposed to get help in the house after I returned from hospital with severe heart failure, and got no help at all.

Society in many western countries has changed a lot.
People have to take care of themselves and families are forced to become caregivers, whether they're able or not.

I could hardly move around when I came from hospital, but it was expected I could step in the shoes of those professionals without any education or information. Waiting were those boys, a daughter with muscle disease, another son with ADHD and autism, and a husband with dementia.

The idea grew of a caregiver's house.
A large house in town which is for the support of caregivers.
It contains a library about caregiving.
A small restaurant so people can relax with a cuppa or walk in to get a simple dinner with the family.
It has rooms for consultations with doctors, psychologists, psychiatrists, social workers and for group work.
Annd  large room for meetings, and lessons.
It has a few apartments for families with 24/7 therapeutic assistance, so families can stay together and can be assisted during mayor changes in life or when they can't stay at home.
Etc.

The building could be funded by crowdfunding, the running with assistance of gifts, donations and subsidies by the health insurance companies.

I've submitted the idea to a contest to improve our town.
The idea was welcomed, but I didn't win, because I had no financial back up.

Maybe... in the future....

I hate my medication



When my heart gave up, I was turned into a pill eating machine.

I know these clusters of chemicals keep me alive, but that doesn't mean I love them for it. Not at all.

They take a lot of my time and attention.
4 times a day I have to remember to take them, if I want or not, regardless of the place or situation. I've learned to take them with a piece of bread or something like that, because water is not always available.

It's not possible to take all boxes and pots with me, so I have to fill special boxes.
Some pills are very tiny, so it's a problem to get them out of the blisters.
Others stink when the blisters are opened.
Some boxes and pills look the same, so I have to be careful not to make a mistake. A while ago I put vitamin D in the box instead of heartpills. I discovered it, because I started to feel very unwell. And counting both kinds confirmed my suspicion.
At times boxes are completely changed and sometimes also the size and colour of the pills. So I can't rely on experience. It's reading and checking all the time.
It takes me over 90 minutes to get things sorted for a month.

The pile of junk that is left bothers me too.
The blisters are made of plastic and aluminium, the boxes of paper, and some pots are plastic too.
I have to pay to dispose of them.
Re-using is not an official option, but I often ask the kindergarten nearby if they want to have the pots and/or boxes. A few times a year they like to have the pots. They use them to put seeds of watercress in them, so the children can take the seeds home and grow watercress at home.
The boxes are used for crafts. They're painted, or they glue things on them, build things.
The blisters can be used to make bowls for the dollhouse 1:12. But a house only needs a few bowls.
So what's left goes in the bin.
I'd rather have my pills in pots that can be refilled. It saves time, and a lot of junk.

Taking pills is not a matter of following the doctor's wishes.
The pharmacy is supposed to control for unwanted interactions. I've never had a warning. They trust the cardiologist, and he doesn't check anything. As king of his profession he wants everyone to do what he wants; he thinks he's right.
So:
  • as a diabetic I get pills from him that interfere with blood glucose levels. 
  • I'm allergic to lactose, but I get pills with lactose.
  • I've got asthma, but I get pills I'm not supposed to take, because they enhance asthma..
  • I get pills with positive interactions, meaning they enhance the activity of one or both of them
  • I get pills with negative interactions, meaning they diminish the activity of one or both of them
  • I suffer from kidney-insufficiency (thanks to him), but I get more nefrotoxic medication
  • I get so many pills that even the additives add up and lead to side-effects.
There are so many issues, that I can't get a good insight anymore.
Some pills mask vitamin and mineral deficiencies, some pills cause them.
Some pills need a distance of two hours from each other, others need a 9 hour interval.
Some pills need to be taken with something fat, others absolutely not.
Some can't be taken with grapefruit. When you think that's not a problem as I don't like grapefruit... be aware that some jams, sweets and drinks contain grapefruit too, and it's not mentioned on the product.

And the cost of the fun to stay alive?
I pay for insurance, but before the insurance pays I have to pay 385 euro first, called 'own risk'. That means that in January I have to pay 535 euro for health insurance. (And those members of my family who use medication too. The pension is 1650 euro, and we're here with 3 medication taking people... so use your mathematical skills. Next year they want to raise the 'own risk' to 500 euro. Is it strange to think I won't be able to pay? (Rent is 754 euro)

But hej..that's not all.
Some pills need an extra payment per pill. I don't know why the government thinks this is fair.

And not all medication is covered by the insurance.
Metformin causes a B12 deficiency... because I get shots the insurance covers the problem.
But I also need Pyridoxine and folic acid, because of a metabolic disorder. I've got a Vitamin D deficiency, and a magnesium deficiency.
Since my heart almost caused a complete body shutdown, the metabolic uptake is insufficient.
So the doctor diagnoses, and I pay for what I need.
Leading to saving money on food and drinks....

And about theside-effects of the medication? That's for another blogpost.

The re-examination



The government has decided that more people with special needs should get a job.

So today my classic autistic son needed to be re-examined.
The meeting was a combination of the present need for re-examination and a regular re-examination because his evaluation isn't right.

A few years ago I went with him for his first evaluation. We were accompanied by a very handsome and friendly woman of a care-organisation.
We expected he would be considered to be unable to work.
But the doctor who evaluated his case didn't look into the files, didn't read the paperwork, but was delighted by us women, and he started flirting with us.
I could understand he was infatuated by the woman from the care-organisation. But I was a busy mom of 6, not looking very well. Still he flirted with me too.
We received his written letter stating my son was very able to work.

I was furious!
Filed a complained against that so called doctor, and told the woman who was assigned to his case that he wasn't able to work at all, but I didn't want to have another ridiculous examination by a doctor who couldn't find a proper job at a hospital or private practice.
We had a couple of talks, my son tried some daycare, and at last she wrote the conclusion that he wasn't able to work.
When he moved to another city she wrote a good report, the new case manager was pleasantly surprised by it and within 20 minutes of trying to talk with my son told me he agreed with the woman.

But when we got yet another case manager the whole problem started again.
She phoned me and the result was that she proposed a re-examination so his case could be closed.

The doctor was not really friendly, but he was correct.
He had a tick and especially when my son looked at him it intensified. I felt pity for the guy.
He started with a long story, the standard story for the present governmental re-examination, so I had to tell him my son needed a complete review, and why.
Then he started questions, got caught in the daily routine of my son and was amazed by what he heard. But on the other hand: the guy knew more about autism than the docs I've seen the past 10 years, so he was able to ask the proper questions, he got the answers, and soon he came to the obvious conclusion. I saw it in his eyes.
He asked some more.
And then told my son he was aware he was stressed, but that he needn't be stressed. he would keep his benefits ad he was convinced my son was not able to wok at all. he adviced my son to concentrate on tidying his room (which he can't) and gave us a friendly goodbye.

What a relief!!

While I went home I worried about the son of my friend.
Her son is also autistic and he had a re-examination too, but at a different office in another city.
Soon after I arrived home I heard he was told he was not fit to work either.

So good to close all these years of stress.

I know other stress will start next year, when their benefits will be just 70% of minimum wages.
Almost all these young people are in debt, because they lack the 30% income for a normal life in poverty. But the letters they received where full of threats, telling them that if they didn't work they would loose their benefits. It got so bad that I brought it under the attention of the minister and an official letter of the government was send to all the offices telling to stop the threats.
But the constant reminder that you're not good enough for society gives a low self-esteem and makes one feel a failure.
Tht stops now.
They'll get their bit of money to live and that's it.
No nagging social workers anymore.

Phew.

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More surprise-bills



My income is so low that I can't do anything extra. That's why I'm looking for a job at the age of 61, knowing that not even 3% of my age can get a job.

When I got the small income I cancelled a lot of things: memberships, magazines, the local paper, educational stuff, etc etc.

I didn't know the father of the children still had a library membership. But I know now: with a bill of 60 euro.

None uses it.
So I wrote the library a mail, explaining the situation, and they told me not to pay the bill, and they cancelled the membership.

The same day I got a bill for about the same amount from the workers union.
This gave me a huge shock.
I cancelled them in January, the woman stopped it back in time in December, and the bill is for January, February and March. Clearly two different departments not knowing from each other what they are doing.
They too got a mail, but they haven't been back to me.

I hope they have saved their own mails, so they can see themselves it was stopped completely.

I hate those surprise bills. They upset me, make me feel very stressed and they cost a lot of time too.

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Money, money, money....



'Money makes the world go round'  Liza Minnelli sang in Cabaret.

Yea... a lot of the world and of life turns around money.

Finally the whole problem with the health insurance is resolved and I've got all the medication I paid for. What a relief!

And then.... a blue envelope arrived.
So that's the annual result of their accounting.

I expected to get money back or nothing, but I didn't expect a bill of 193 Euro!
My son did the admin over last year, next time I'll do it myself.

I was trying to save a bit of money for a vacation of a few days with the children, as we've never been on a vacation, and I haven't had a vacation in over 30 years.
But it'll be gone.
Money makes the world go round, and brings my life back to the utter basics: a roof and food.

I feel sad I can't give my children the experience of a vacation all together.

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My healthinsurance is...a mess



Got a  mail to tell me to expect a bill of the pharmacy of 800 euro.

So I asked the pharmacy for a specification.
Always do...always do.

1. the first order was dated in such a way that the insurance has to pay.
2. second order was paid at that very moment, as it wasn't an insured item.
3. they packed for hundreds of euros in a bag, but we never fetched the bag and it wasn't brought to us with the delivery service.

So the action of the pharmacy borders on fraud.

I told the pharmacy and the insurance to get their administration in order.

I will never ever think matters are settled with the insurance.

Why?
Because I got  a mail telling me I had to pay a lot of money before the 5th.
I've already paid!!!

I've gained a good insight in how that insurance works.
Make a mess by leaning back an doing nothing what needs to be done.
Then send a large bill with fines and admin costs.

The postpone payment opportunities, until a new bill with fines and such can be sent.

Feel like sending them a bill for all the time I had to spend to get things sorted and the stress of their mess.

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