Amanda and I were talking about names and what they mean. Patricia for instance means Noblewoman. That pretty much fits me; I can live with that! I found that description by googling "meaning of names" and I went to this site. Then I googled just my name; Patti. Kind of wish I hadn't done that. I looked on Wikipedia and found that In one language in India, dogs are called Patti. In New Jersey (USA) they refer to sea cows as Patti. I prefer the Noblewoman thing to the sea cow reference.
What does your name mean?
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Happy Anniversary
Happy Anniversary Brad & Kim and Lauren & Kenny. Sorry I'm a few days late. I hope you all had a romantic time....not all together of course. I love you all!
I Survived The Process
If you've seen my comments on facebook, then you know I have finally succeeded in securing Medicade for my Mom. What an interesting process! After all of my phone calls ended in more confusing information or no information at all I decided to take matters into my own hands and show up at the office of Family and Social Services. I chose to go to a rural office instead of the one in downtown Fort Wayne. I had been told by more than one person that the rural office would be less busy. In front of me in the parking lot was an elderly couple. They were hunting for parking spot. I assumed they were going to the Social Services office too. I figured I could totally out run them and get ahead of them in line. I parked really quickly and went around to the passenger side to retrieve all of my paperwork. In my haste things fell out of the car and papers started flying around. I quickly gathered the fallen items, grabbed my purse and briefcase and took off for the door. Even with my little mishap at the car I was still way ahead of them. I turned around to see where they were and saw them walking into the grocery store. I laughed a little to myself and then hoped that I didn't screw up my good Karma by being so selfish. There was only one other person in the waiting room when I walked in, and she was working on a computer. A lady came out right away when the door buzzer sounded.
I informed her that I needed to talk to someone about my Mom's case. She looked at me kind of puzzled, like this was an unusual occurrence. She says: "did someone tell you to come here?" I say: "yes, my psychic." No, I didn't really say that but I thought it was a weird question. Then she tells me that there is a phone on the desk here that is a direct line to the 1-800# for the office in Indy. Really???? I didn't just drive 20 miles so that I could use your phone. I remained calm and tried to explain my problem the best I could while standing in the middle of the waiting room. The issues I have are not things that I can explain in a sentence or two. I rattled off the entire story. Then I heard it.....the voice coming from behind the screen asking me questions. Actually the voice from behind the screen was asking the worker to ask me questions ( like I couldn't hear her). I decided to bypass the worker standing in front of me and just talk to the screen. The screen seemed to have more authority. The screen asked me if I had any paperwork with me. I asked her which volume she wanted. The worker took my paperwork to the voice behind the screen. I could hear whispers behind the screen and a lot of computer work, while I sat in the lobby cleaning out my purse and writing my grocery list. Finally the screen invited me in. She was smaller than I thought she would be, kind of like the wizard of OZ. She didn't look at me much and I could tell that it was best I didn't try to talk to her, just answer her questions as she asked them. Things were not working out for her and she had to go ask someone else behind another screen what to do. When she finally came back, she and the other screen had everything figured out. She fixed the mistakes that other workers had made and says: "Ok, she's approved starting with July." What????? That's it?????? Done???? I went in there expecting to get some answers to my questions, but that was it. I was ecstatic to find out that this process was finally done. Wellllll....I'm 99.9% sure it's done. I have her Medicaid card number, but I don't have the actual card in my hot little hands yet.
Although this process was long and frustrating, my experience with the workers I encountered was not that bad. Everyone I talked to was nice (even though they gave me wrong information). Maybe they were nice to me because I was nice to them and appreciative of their help. I'm sure their job is not that pleasant. A lady came into the lobby while I was behind the screen and I heard her entire sob story. I could tell by her voice she was frustrated and about at the end of her rope. They must hear stuff like that all day long. No wonder they don't want to deal with anyone in person. That lady was calm, but I'm sure they get more than their fair share of hot heads. I actually thought while I was sitting there that I hoped no one came in with a gun and started shooting the place up.
Anyone out there need any help with this kind of thing, let me know. I can at least tell you what not to do.
I informed her that I needed to talk to someone about my Mom's case. She looked at me kind of puzzled, like this was an unusual occurrence. She says: "did someone tell you to come here?" I say: "yes, my psychic." No, I didn't really say that but I thought it was a weird question. Then she tells me that there is a phone on the desk here that is a direct line to the 1-800# for the office in Indy. Really???? I didn't just drive 20 miles so that I could use your phone. I remained calm and tried to explain my problem the best I could while standing in the middle of the waiting room. The issues I have are not things that I can explain in a sentence or two. I rattled off the entire story. Then I heard it.....the voice coming from behind the screen asking me questions. Actually the voice from behind the screen was asking the worker to ask me questions ( like I couldn't hear her). I decided to bypass the worker standing in front of me and just talk to the screen. The screen seemed to have more authority. The screen asked me if I had any paperwork with me. I asked her which volume she wanted. The worker took my paperwork to the voice behind the screen. I could hear whispers behind the screen and a lot of computer work, while I sat in the lobby cleaning out my purse and writing my grocery list. Finally the screen invited me in. She was smaller than I thought she would be, kind of like the wizard of OZ. She didn't look at me much and I could tell that it was best I didn't try to talk to her, just answer her questions as she asked them. Things were not working out for her and she had to go ask someone else behind another screen what to do. When she finally came back, she and the other screen had everything figured out. She fixed the mistakes that other workers had made and says: "Ok, she's approved starting with July." What????? That's it?????? Done???? I went in there expecting to get some answers to my questions, but that was it. I was ecstatic to find out that this process was finally done. Wellllll....I'm 99.9% sure it's done. I have her Medicaid card number, but I don't have the actual card in my hot little hands yet.
Although this process was long and frustrating, my experience with the workers I encountered was not that bad. Everyone I talked to was nice (even though they gave me wrong information). Maybe they were nice to me because I was nice to them and appreciative of their help. I'm sure their job is not that pleasant. A lady came into the lobby while I was behind the screen and I heard her entire sob story. I could tell by her voice she was frustrated and about at the end of her rope. They must hear stuff like that all day long. No wonder they don't want to deal with anyone in person. That lady was calm, but I'm sure they get more than their fair share of hot heads. I actually thought while I was sitting there that I hoped no one came in with a gun and started shooting the place up.
Anyone out there need any help with this kind of thing, let me know. I can at least tell you what not to do.
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