I can't handle money!

When I had to quit working I was advised to apply for disability benefits. I asked around and checked with my doctor and decided to go for it. No one I talked to had a good story to tell. Knowing that I might encounter resistance from the government I dug in my heels and prepared for battle.

First, I made an appointment with a Social Security counselor. They book weeks in advance but the day for the interview finally dawned. I wanted to make a good impression so I drug out one of my "Marian the Librarian" jumpers and put on my sensible shoes. When I applied my makeup I left off the concealer I call crack filler. I put it on the scar in my chin to give myself the impression that it's less noticeable. After all, I needed the counselor to see the outward and visible signs of my disability. I was counting on the fact that the left side of my mouth doesn't always do what it's told to add to my air of "disabled." Cheesy, I'll admit, but effective.

The counselor was a sympathetic lady who asked millions of questions and recorded the answers on her computer. After the questions I had to run through my litany of surgeries, tests, and limitations. Last I had to sign a document that everything I had said was true. That done, the counselor told me I'd be hearing from them in a few weeks and I left. I figured, okay, that's step one done.

Several more weeks passed and I received a giant brown envelope stuffed with 3 packets of questionnaires that I had to complete and return. These questions were the same ones I'd answered at the Social Security office! I thought, "Aha! It's a trick to see if I lied." The questions were short answer and multiple choice for the most part. Not to worry, I'm a good test taker. I just had to take my time. It didn't take me long to figure out that the questions were repetitive. They asked the same thing about 3 different ways and were meant to assess mental limitations as well as physical limitations. I breezed through the sections about decision making and paying my bills but then they stumped me.

The question was, "How well can you handle money?" I'd already indicated that I could take care of my own finances so I took the question literally and answered at length. I explained that the neuropathy in my hands made it difficult for me to "handle" money. I described the way I dropped paper money because I couldn't feel it in my hands, that I often lost money from my pockets because I didn't know I had pulled it out, that I dropped coins because I couldn't grip them. It was quite an essay. Feeling pretty good about my answers I put the 3 questionnaires in the return envelope and took it to the post office.

It dawned on me the next day. They didn't want to know if I could "handle" money. They wanted to know if I could "manage" money!

Before long I was notified that my disability benefits would begin in February after the obligatory 5 month wait period. I think I set a record! I applied in August and was approved in October. My application was probably the office joke for awhile. "Hey! Look at this! This woman can't handle money!" Maybe my answer gave some bored bureaucrat a laugh because it sure cracked us up. Whatever the reason for the swift approval, mental or physical, I'm in and I didn't have to fight for it.