Small...Okay, HUGE...Victory, And a Scalp Full of Goobers

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Evidently, not all bureaucrats are entirely evil. I had my unemployment appeal hearing over the phone last Thursday morning, and Monday afternoon I got this letter. The length of time it took for me to get the letter suggests to me that the hearing officer made her decision right away--like it was a no-brainer. (Which is what I'd said all along.)

Of course, because nothing should be 100% simple, I had to go to the office to fill out a basketload of forms*, and of course it will be at LEAST a couple of weeks before I get my first check...but if my math is correct, I've got a nice little assist coming by the beginning of February or so.I also did my taxes this week, and thanks to e-file and Direct Deposit, another little windfall should be coming my way within a few more weeks. I only wish I could take it all to Ikea or Menards or someplace...or, more likely, just stick it into a savings account and hold on to it-- instead of using it to pay off a whole mess of late bills. If I actually HAD a job, I could finally get myself on solid financial ground with these two checks; since I don't, I'm going to have to use most of it to clean up the big mess that the last three months of my life have become.**

I'm desperately hoping that these two things together mean that things are looking up, that they're not just a brief respite (though heaven knows I could use THAT, too!) and that a job--hopefully THE job, though I'm becoming doubtful--is forthcoming.

I also had my second sleep-study last night, the one where they test out the CPAP machine (that stands for Continuous Positive Airway Pressure, in case you're ever hard-pressed for cocktail-party chatter). The machine is a little toaster-sized box with a long hose, ending in a mask that goes over your nose and is tethered to your head by means of a system of Velcro straps. Apparently it works by keeping constant air pressure inside your airway, which keeps your soft palate/uvula/whatever from collapsing and blocking the air flow, which is what happens in sleep apnea.*** I don't know how well I'm going to adapt to it; I mean, I slept okay, but when I woke up I had dents all over my face from where the mask was sitting, and it felt very, very strange. The nurse had to come in a couple of times at night, too, because the mask had slipped up on my face and was leaking air around my eyes. All in all, it wasn't intolerable, but it was weird and awkward, and I don't know how it's going to translate into home use (though I'm glad I no longer have a human bed-partner; I'd hate to be seen like that!)

The worst part of the whole test, however, won't be a problem at home because they're only used for the initial testings: namely, the electrodes. To test the depth of sleep, the nurse puts electrodes on your legs, your chest, your face, behind your ears, and on the sides and back of your head. The electrodes that attach to skin are no problem; the next morning, they peel right off and you're none the worse for it. But the three head electrodes...they have to be attached to the scalp, at the base of the hair. To do this, they use this...stuff. It's like half jelly, half cornstarch paste, half Crisco, and half Krazy Glue. And it Does. Not. Come. Out. I tried to wash out some of it before I left the hospital, and then the first thing I did when I came home was hit the shower to wash my hair. I washed it twice, then one more time with a fine-tooth comb to make sure I'd gotten out all the globs of stuff...and as I wrote this post, I reached up to brush a piece of hair out of my face and guess what I found?? More adhesive-goobers. I can find two spots I missed--one small, one not-so-small. And if I try to take another shower before tonight, my entire face will shrivel up into a little dehydrated pinkish raisin with eyes, so I'm stuck for the next few hours with goop in my hair. You'd think medical science would have advanced beyond the goop-in-the-hair point, but apparently not...Now if you'll excuse me, I have an appointment with a comb.

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*"basketful of forms"...Initially, I applied for unemployment online. They sent me a letter telling me what my date was to call in and "certify" using their automatic system, which I did. Each time I certified, I was sent another letter with another date, on which to call the next time. You know what my second date in December was?? Christmas. Now I ask you--who's gonna remember to call Unemployment on CHRISTMAS?? Seriously. And of course, since I missed my certification date, I didn't get a letter telling me when NEXT to certify, so I didn't. When I called to ask what to do, they said "just go into the office and fill out a form". What they didn't tell me was, the "form" was essentially a whole new application to cover the time I'd missed, and it came with a lecture from the harried, Alan-Ginsburg-looking staffer at the front desk, giving me hell about not calling. "I was very diligent til Christmas," I informed him; it cut no ice. Of course, this is a man who, faced with three piles of papers and looking for mine, ignored my statement that "It's in the basket" and shuffled through the other two piles, then threw up his hands and ignored the basket entirely, whereupon I had to pull my own paper out of the stack and hand it to him. Oy.

**..."three months"... I have never before in my life, except when I was an active heroin addict, been out of work for three months straight. Even then, I generally had SOME sort of job. What most-especially chaps my hide about it all is this: had I known it would be this long, I would have spent the time more wisely--would have done some massive projects around the house, like refinishing the kitchen cabinets or levelling the floor in the upstairs bath. But because I was always thinking that a job was just around the corner, I figured "why start what I can't finish?" Lately I've been thinking I should probably re-evaluate my entire world-view.

*** the CPAP machine...It blows air up your nose, essentially; I had a fun time opening my mouth as though I was going to take a breath, then feeling/hearing the air rush OUT through my mouth with no effort of my own. When they send me home with my own machine, the first thing I'm going to do is go out and buy one of those plastic kid's piccolo-type things, to see if I can get the machine to play it for me.