Peace Out 2019... It sure has been...

How is tomorrow already 2020? Seriously, where did this year go?  It’s strange how time passes, and it felt boring and busy all at the same time.  One thing I will say about social media, is it’s a good way to archive and go back and say, “Wow, we did some cool stuff!” Of course 2018 was hard to beat, since it was the wedding!  It was the season finale everyone was waiting for. So what does that leave for 2019? It was a year of learning, finding out what we want, what we don’t want, and how to get there. What’s crazy is that by my standards, it was a pretty quiet year, but we did A LOT. Here are some of the highlights as we look forward to the new decade!

1. We took a honeymoon!  We went back to our old stomping/wheeling grounds of Vegas, and spent some real time off together, remembering how to have fun, and why we fell in love in the first place. We even hired an amazing photographer to capture some fun shots from where it all began. 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   2. Business was booming! Seriously, I made more as a consultant than I have in my entire career. It’s funny, because every year I say to myself, it’s time to phase this out. I have a day job, I’m not a “youth” anymore, it’s time to give up this gig. Every time I say that, I get asked to do another contract, or keynote speech, and I do it, and remember how much I love it. With this, has come a lot of soul searching. I have started to learn my worth, and be more selective about how I spend my time. I am no longer in the stage where I need to “build my resume.” Things need to either fulfill me spiritually, or financially, and if they don’t, that’s ok. It’s amazing to be at a place in your career at which you are able to say “No thank you, this opportunity is not a good fit for me right now!” But the ones that do, are fantastic. The biggest professional highlight this year was being selected to give a keynote speech at the Tennessee Youth Transition Conference. Everyone was so hospitable, and it was fantastic to get to know some really ambitious youth who once again, gave me hope that maybe there is some good left in the world. If you’re interested in learning more about my “side gig” check out MalloryCyr.com
   
   


3. We saw some shoooows! I saw Hanson again, around Christmas which obviously made my 90’s heart grow three sizes that day, and we FINALLY saw Wicked together. We had opportunities to see it before, but for some reason I wasn’t “ready.” Wicked is something that had been such a part of my past, for better and for worse, and although Owen had been there for some of the worst things we had both experienced, I wasn’t sure I was ready to “go there.” Well, before we got married, we saw RENT, Les Miserables, Dear Evan Hansen, Hamilton…. it was not like he had not seen me get emotional at a show. Actually, I try to get different seats now so the poor ushers at DCPA don’t have to witness my routine musical meltdowns so frequently. So we saw Wicked. We got tickets for the Friday before my birthday, and the week we went to Vegas, and it was perfect. Since this was only the second time I had seen it (and the last time was in 2004, and I didn’t have my glasses), it was kind of like seeing it for the first time, and it was still amazing and relevant, and magical. Then we went to another event at the Hard Rock Cafe to see the cast perform in a cabaret style show, and the wizard himself said he was so glad I was there.








4. We also got to see Kristin again, for the first time in Denver, along with my dear friend of 21 years Mary-Mitchell Campbell, who is now Kristin’s musical director/piano player. Many people may not know, but the three of us first met in 1998 at a camp fundraiser! I told Kristin after seeing her perform with the Colorado symphony, “You know, you have always been good, but you are AMAZING. It has been such a journey watching you grow professionally and vocally over the last 18 years.” And she got all choked up and teary, like she does, every time we see each other, and said “That is so meaningful coming from you, it really means so much.” Then we hugged and took pictures of our shoes together, because this is my life.







5. We started exercising regularly. In April, our neighbors opened a class based fitness studio and offer a ton of amazing classes, with instructors that aren’t there to scare you or make you feel like you’re not good enough. They help us adapt things, and push us to do what they know we are capable of. I have felt myself grow stronger and have learned how much my body actually NEEDS physical activity (the wine after yoga doesn’t hurt either).  Shout out to Carbon Fitness! 



6. We spent time with family. My family came to visit over Labor Day weekend, and man did we make the most of it! Then in the fall, I took some time to go to Maine by myself for the first time since Owen and I lived in Boston. For all those folks who are married, or looking at getting married, or even those who live with a significant other, it’s ok to do things by yourself. Financially, and in terms of time off, it doesn’t always make sense for both of us to go on a trip, sometimes I travel alone for work. None of this means that we love each other less, or that there is anything wrong with our relationship. It’s crucial to remember who you are as a “me,” when you are not being an “US!”










7. Owen and I won Halloween with our second ever couple's costume and went to parties until we finally won a costume contest. Elton John and Tiny Dancer? How could we not win!




8. WE MOVED! Finally, after four years of living in an apartment complex that we never wanted to live in, we were in a financial situation where we could actually move somewhere that felt like a “grown up” home. As many of you know, we were very spoiled in Boston, as we had a studio in a brand new luxury building, which was financed on student loans, because we needed accessible housing. It also set us up for big, big disappointment when we tried to find an apartment we could actually afford. The rental market in Denver was/is far better than Boston, but since we were moving here with employment pending, it was difficult to get approved for anything, so we took what we could get, moved from a studio to a one bedroom and saved up to get back where we wanted to be! Finally, after years of advocacy and a fair housing case, having an accessible apartment, being treated with respect, and having a home I am proud to have people over, even though the move itself was exhausting, I can finally sit back and say WE DID IT.





9. TINSLEY MARIE! Even though we got Tinsley in 2018, this year we have watched her grow and shine, and it has been the greatest joy. She has truly found herself, and especially since moving to our new apartment, she is just loved by everyone who crosses her path (except squirrels).












10. The end of 2019 was spent doing a lot of reflection. In the fall, I applied for a job, that I am totally qualified for, and I interviewed well, and I didn’t get it. Someone else did, who was pretty much personally selected before they began the hiring process. This happens a lot in my field, so I wasn’t totally shocked, but it did open my eyes to a lot of things. It showed me, first of all, that I didn’t actually need the job. There were things about it I wasn’t in love with, and it would have been a new commute, new people, new friends… things I actually didn’t WANT to figure out, especially around the same time that I was moving. 

 This year also taught me a lot about community, and what that REALLY means. There are communities I have accepted I am not a part of. AND THAT IS OK. Because I have other communities I AM A PART OF. And they are amazing. I have friends that make me laugh until I cry eating lunch at work. I have friends that have left work to bring me to the hospital when I didn’t know what was wrong. I have friends that have brought me to the airport at 4 a.m. I have so many friends that I can talk about anything with, serious or silly. We have people we look forward to seeing in our neighborhood, who know us and our dog. WE HAVE A COMMUNITY.

Now I’m going to get real for a minute. This whole disability thing was never a part of my identity, or my narrative until someone told me it had to be. It made me question who I was and what I knew. There were times in my career it has played a bigger role than others, and I will never say I’m NOT an advocate, but I’m more than that.

I have a master’s degree, I am a writer, a speaker and a policy professional. I have reached a point professionally, at which, just like saying no, I can decide who I am. I was hired in my current job for my experience with contract management, communications, and understanding of policy.


Yes, my lived experience helps me have perspective in everything I do, but it’s a part of it. I’m done trying to get into clubs that don’t want me. I’m done being someone I’m not because people expect it of me. I’m done being a one dimensional token. Thank you 2019, for all you taught me, for all the growing you made us do. I’m ready to step into the new year, the new decade, being me. Being more authentic than I have been in a long time. I’m ready.

Now here's a song to take with you to 2020!

The Art of Eligibility

This post is a bit of a throwback, but it feels relevant with some of the work I'm involved in right now.  Before I moved to Boston, I lived on my own for a bit (with a roommate), and during that time, I went through my first "eligibility assessment," to continue to receive Medicaid services, and the minimal nursing help I had with my medical tasks.

It was an odd, exhausting process, and it led me to write this.  I realized it never was published anywhere, but my mom blogger friend posted it in her blog.

Recently, I've been supporting in some state level efforts to actually make this process more person centered, so while it has taken some time, I like to think perhaps we are getting there.  I have shared this with many of my co-workers as a way to show them the other side of the assessment, that it is emotional, taxing, and more than just a tool. It's a lot of mixed feelings sometimes, bringing so many perspectives to the table, whether I choose to or not.
--------------

“Are you able to get on and off the toilet by yourself? Any trouble urinating, or with your bowels? Do you wear pads or anything, or just for your menses?”

These are just some of the invasive questions that pop up during an “eligibility assessment” while trying to get healthcare services as a young adult with “special healthcare needs.”

On a typical morning, I wake up, head into the kitchen where I hit the buttons on my Keurig one cup coffee brewer with my eyes half open and settle in front of my Macbook to pour over emails and celebrity gossip until I can see straight. Usually this is followed by a shower, and all together an hour or so of blow drying, hair straightening, eye lining, lip-glossing, and perfume spritzing. But not today. Today I’m playing a part. Sort of.

In my life, my illness is not at the forefront. My LIFE is. I power on day-to-day, working to change the healthcare system for others in similar situations. I network, I spend time with my family, I get coffee with my friends, I rot my brain with reality TV, I do things every other 25 year old does. Then at the end of the day before heading to bed, I happen to get hooked up to an IV for 12 hours when I sleep. No big deal. Another day in the life.

But when it comes time to prove eligibility it’s ABOUT being sick- not able to be independent or successful. It’s not about proving how hard you have worked to achieve a level of good health and independence. It’s playing a game, to see if you “win” the services you need to ultimately be independent… and alive.

My phone rings, and the “assessor” tells me she has found my apartment. When I hang up, I throw my coffee mug in the sink, and stash my pink jewel encrusted iPhone under the pillow on the couch. As someone who meets the “income requirements,” I certainly shouldn’t have things like an iPhone. Ditto for my Macbook, which I quickly put to sleep and close off to the side so it won’t draw attention.

Today there is no eyeliner, no mascara, and no lip gloss. I haven’t showered, my hair surely is not perfected, and I’m wearing the same tank top and shorts I slept in.

I open the door for her, and my first thought is offering her something to drink (as any good hostess would) but I hesitate. Is that the right move in “the game?” If I can get her a glass of iced tea, then surely I can get some for myself… which means I can probably cook my own meals… which would probably deduct points in however the scoring of this sick game works. I don’t offer her anything.

We sit down at the kitchen table, and I wait for her to initiate conversation. I direct her to a plug so she can plug in her laptop where she will undoubtedly be recording all of my answers. I feel like I’m on a very unrewarding game show. I sit quietly, secretly hoping that some of yesterday’s mascara has successfully created dark circles under my eyes to make me look more like someone with “a condition.”

Finally we start talking. I keep my answers short and simple, only emphasizing the negative- like how hard it is for me to go up and down stairs, that of course I am able to shower by myself, but not forgetting to mention the complex dressing change that must be done after.

I know the script by now, and after awhile I just start to go with the flow, and even make light of it, in my own head, thinking of how I could joke that the only assistance I need while grooming is the occasional wax or highlights I just can’t seem to perfect myself.

I continue to choose my words carefully however, and avoid sounding too articulate.

“Do you have all your own teeth? Are you missing any?”
I raise an eyebrow, and answer “Yes. No….”

“That’s wonderful!” She says, as if having all of one’s teeth is an oddity, but considering the region, and that the assessment is done by “elderly services,” I suppose maybe it is.

I start to follow it up with “Actually, I just whitened them last night, and they are fabulously straight since I just got my braces off in November…. Which I paid for myself, and are completely paid off!” They absolutely do not want to hear that. I actually bite my lip so she can’t see how good they look.

“Have you had to see a foot doctor at all? Can I look at your feet?”

“Um… no, and sure.” I swiftly cross my ankles, hiding the one foot that is emblazoned with a tattoo, and point my toe of the other foot at her. My self applied turquoise nail polish glitters.

“Oh, you have little nail polish on it, and your hands too!” I immediately regret the touch up I did the night before, then get over it. It’s exhausting trying not to be yourself. Can’t catch it all.

The questions continue, and she begins explaining to me that my current insurance company cannot be billed retroactively, and I will have to fill out yet another application and apply for another program to prove I’m eligible for services I have already been receiving.

My brain starts buzzing, and the words on the application become a blur. “Wait… what?” I ask, striving for clarification.

“Do you want the number for the Department of Health & Human Services? I have the number for all of them!” She offers, as though telling me I just won the Powerball so none of this even matters.

“I have all the numbers.” I shrug. “I just am trying to understand what I need to do.”

We spend about twenty more minutes of me trying to clarify what I am asking, and her trying to answer. She then promises me she will relay the information to all the parties who need to be notified since once again, I’m not even sure I get it, but in a last ditch effort to not spend my entire day unshowered, sitting with this stranger in my house, I tell her I do.

Finally she prints another sheet of paper and with her arms raised says “Well! Of course you qualify for a nursing home level of care! But I know you choose home! Home home home!”

I cock my head to the side wondering if she really just said that sentence as if it were some deranged cheer they learn in “eligibility assessing school.” I try to keep my jaw from visibly dropping as I sign my name on a line under a checked box that said “I understand my options within this program and choose to stay in my own home to receive care.”

“Yea. I do.“ I said bluntly. It had been two hours and my act of playing nice was wearing off. Playing sick and tired I could do (since the tired part was not acting), but pretending this whole process isn’t the most unhinged, psychologically damaging thing I’ve ever seen…gets old. “And we’ve worked HARD for the past 25 years to see that this is the way it could be.”

She drops the cheerleader act and gathers her things, and wheels her laptop-carrying suitcase to her car. “I hope everything works out for you. Good luck.”

“Thanks,” I replied. “Have a good day.” And I meant it. We were both back to just being human again. And I could take a shower.

I close the door, and shake my head. Of course I choose home. I choose independence, grad school, work, and success… I choose having a LIFE. And I can only hope that some day, that is what the system is based on, being rewarded for being healthy and successful, instead of deprived of services that make it possible. 

Maybe someday.

Rare patient seeks doc.

I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow, and I need to prepare myself emotionally.  I haven’t had a GI specialist since that one time in Boston when I had to break up with one.  For those who are new here, I like to compare healthcare to dating.

I have to take an Uber, schedule a time that works for both of us, and pray it’s a good fit.  Much like men prior to the fiancé, GI Specialists don’t really know what to do with me, and much like I was during that time period, I don’t want to be fixed.

I’m strong, I’m vocal, I do things my way and this works for me.  Doctors (and most men) don’t know how to handle this.

And let me just Internet shout:

I DON’T NEED A CURE. I’M NOT LOOKING FOR A CURE, AND I DON’T WANT TO TRY YOUR EXPERIMENTAL DRUG THAT IS GOING TO RUIN MY QUALITY OF LIFE I HAVE WORKED HARD TO ACHIEVE.

So phew.  Now can we just talk like people? I don’t want to pay for a bunch of expensive, invasive tests because YOU’RE curious.  Sure, go ahead and google me, I highly recommend it.  Don’t be afraid to say “I don’t know.”  Nobody does, and sharing vulnerability makes us equal.

Don’t judge my choices, my life, or reprimand me for living the way I choose- for swimming, for traveling, for enjoying a cocktail with brunch. While you’re googling, look up “dignity of risk.” 

Cause guess what? I’m living my life for me. You may be super excited because I’m “rare” and maybe you can write a paper.  One for the books. I write too.  I have letters after my name even.  So stop looking at your watch, and listen.  Learn from me.  Soon we can get the check, and I can get back in my Uber.

Then we’ll decide if we want to keep seeing each other.

Colorado Continued

Remember when I used to write a blog?  Ugh me too. 

I am the WORST.  Except not really. I don’t even have any good excuses except for life has been happening at an unbelievable pace, and there was this period of time after the presidential election when I forgot how to make words.  But I’m not here to talk about that (yet).

I’m mostly here to pour some words onto a page about the last almost year of my life because that’s what I do, and I am a selfish millennial who believes the world wants to hear about it.

Before I get to the good stuff, let’s back up to where we last were.  About a year ago, my temp position, my first job in Colorado was coming to an end.  I applied for a position within my section, sure that I would get it, because well… they wanted me to move here.  Well SURPRISE.  I didn’t get it.  I didn’t talk much about this when it happened, because it was a lot to process, and I still didn’t know where I fit into this department landscape, and I didn’t want to burn any bridges.  It was tough.  This was also during a time I did NOT have health insurance (another blog I will revisit).  My health was not at its best, and I was trying to “put my best foot forward” to land a permanent position (doing anything really at this point, I just needed a paycheck and to be able to get my prescriptions again).  When I didn’t get the job, it was like the rug got pulled out from under me again and the world started spinning. 

Had we made a mistake coming here? Would we be able to pay rent?  Whose family would we live with when I failed once again? Maybe not all of these thoughts were necessary, but they were real.  These are the rollercoaster emotions and thoughts of real transition folks. I cried in the parking lot as I watched my current “team” walk away from me and go to lunch together.

I let myself feel all of my feelings, and then I took a deep breath, put on my big girl pants (again… man these things get a lot of use, the rhinestones are starting to fall off) and I re-evaluated.  There was a barricade in front of the “easy road” I had hoped I could take, seamlessly falling into a job where I already was, with the work I had already been doing for 9 months.  But here I was. Once again, the universe had presented me with an opportunity.  An opportunity to decide what my Colorado path was going to be!  I revamped my résumé, and hit the ground running. I reached out to my networks and applied for so many jobs.  Now mind you, before spring of 2015, when I was getting close to graduating from BU I had NEVER applied for a job (I know, don’t hate me).  But I’ve always worked.  I was very fortunate in the way that every “job” I’ve ever had rolled into another one, and people just sought me out to be a part of things, so all of this was new to me.   I had to remember how to sell myself, and I had lots of people help with cover letters, since I didn’t speak the language of the system yet.

Fast forward to June, when my job is about to end, the Friday before my last day, and I have two offers on the table, one with my current employer, who had (at the last possible second) whipped together a “position” for me, and one, doing real, state level health policy at an office that would be two blocks from my apartment.  During that interview, I was nervous, but I had this buzz throughout my body as I spoke about my experience in policy, getting invited to the White House and my connections with the disability community that made me realize “You know… I think this means I’m excited about this!”(I was later told I had given a “mic drop interview”).

 

It turns out, my boss had been in Vegas when we were going back and forth about the job offer, but he had gotten the cell phone number of the director of HR to be able to give me a formal offer, since he knew I had another offer at the same time.  What a day that was! I was shown, if you really want someone, you can make it happen, and it was time to go where I was valued!

I even got a couple weeks of "Funemployment" before I started new position, which was much needed! 

Today actually marks my 10 months in my current position, and I think it is one of the best jobs I’ve ever had.  Granted it is HARD work, but while some may consider it thankless and unfulfilling, I can’t believe I am finally in the process of making tangible systems change.  We are not doing ambiguous logic models and learning objectives that never go anywhere.  We are writing policy and serving real people.  What could be more fulfilling?  I recently realized, I think I am the perfect balance of optimistic and jaded to be in this work.  I have seen both sides of this service and I know it’s not easy and it’s not fun, but it’s ESSENTIAL for so many individuals to live their best lives, so someone has to do.  I now have a paycheck, health insurance, a retirement plan, PAID TIME OFF AND SICK TIME, and an amazing group of colleagues, so I can’t complain.  It all works out. 

Trust the process, and trust yourself and those who truly care about you. I have zero regret coming to Denver, and what this last year taught me is just how many people we DO have in our corner and who really mean it when they say “Do you need anything?” or “How are you really doing?”  I still am in awe of our incredible community.

A couple of other huge milestones that happened recently, that I will put on my calendar to write more about, but for a teaser

WE ARE GETTING MARRIED!  After dating for 5 years, and living together for 4 -After braving blizzards, and bombings, and grad school Owen gave me a ring, with the Nana’s flawless diamond and said “Will you Marry me?”  And I was like OK!  Stay tuned for lots of wedding talk, and me being a cheesy girly girl that I once despised!

The other big news WE MOVED!  After 4 years of cozy studio living, we have a 850 sq ft ONE BEDROOM.  I need to wrap this up so we can go buy a couch.  It is so perfect for us, and we are on the first floor, which has already been life changing. 

So guess what guys?  It’s all happening.  All of those things I thought we’d never get to, here we are.  It is the craziest thing.  I am REALLY happy.  To those on the transition train, let me just tell you. It’s possible.  It’s not always easy, and it sure isn’t fun, but keep going.  I know it sounds silly, but really, you can create the life you want.  I never thought I would be here, but if you put it out to the universe, make a lot of Google docs spreadsheets, and aren’t afraid to take a leap of faith, you may surprise yourself with how things work out.

More on that later, but for now, I am going to wake up my FIANCÉ, and go buy some furniture for my big girl house!

Xoxo.

Life is a Highway Part II

Here is the full saga of my adventure trying to transfer my out of state license after the big move. I will warn you, it's a SAGA. My hope is that maybe it can save other people some of the nonsense I went through. Feel free to read on if you have time. Prepare to get frustrated...

Five years ago, I got my driver’s license.  As some of you may know, it took me about ten years.  

What I didn’t think about was that after that, I might be moving to another state (two different states actually) and what that would mean for said driver’s license.

LUCKY FOR YOU.  Once again, I am here, to provide transition “lessons learned” so that if any of you driven, ambitious young people want to get the hell out of your home state you will know the steps to go through to eventually transfer your out of state license, be a real citizen of that state, and MAYBE have to make less ridiculous trips to the DMV than I did.

Let me back up a little bit.  

We moved to Colorado in August of 2015.  My license expires May 28, 2016.  I got my Colorado license today… with 12 days to spare, before my Maine license would expire

I made my first trip to the DMV in October of 2015.  There were a couple of reasons I waited to start the process a little late in the game.  The first one, is similar to why I waited to  transfer my healthcare when I was living Boston.  Because I just wasn’t sure.  As I have mentioned before, I am most definitely my own worst enemy when it comes to believing in myself, and my life choices.  WHAT IF I FAIL!?!?!?  What if I lose all my money and my job, and everyone hates me and we lose our apartment, and I have to move back to Maine!?!?!!? I might as well keep my Maine license, juuuust in case.

The second reason- let’s just be clear about this.  I AM NOT ACTUALLY DRIVING IN COLORADO.  My car, Lily, is happily in Maine, hanging out with my sister, because logistics, and I take the bus, and it’s fine.  Otherwise, I would have had to renew my out of state license within 30 days of changing my residence to Colorado (this may vary per state, so be sure to check)

Anyway, so one day in October, I took the morning off from work, and took an Uber to the specific DMV that does driver’s license (cha ching- $20).  I had done my research on the website, and had my proof of residency, my passport, my current license, a blood sample, my first born, etc etc.  

It really didn’t take that long to get called and go through the process, so I figured I was good to go.  However, when they called me up to get my photo taken, they had me review my information to make sure it was correct.  And my apartment # was wrong.  UGH. So, I mentioned it (come to find out, I managed to grab the ONE piece of mail that actually had my address wrong…but somehow it got to me so go figure) When I mentioned it was incorrect, they had me sit back down.  So I did, and waited, and waited.  And I knew I was not leaving with a license.

Sure enough, they called me back up, and having looked at my file, explained to me that I needed to have a form filled out by my doctor, because it said on my license that I needed accommodations in my vehicle THAT IS NOT EVEN IN THE STATE OF COLORADO.  I will say the staff was super nice, and even checked with the manager if this was the case, but it was.  Then they sent me on my way, with the form.

It’s kind of funny because I try not to be a big nerd who is like “Everything has to do with health care,” but you guys, everything has to do with health care.   

At this time, I was also transitioning to my second PCP because my first one just did not have follow through that I needed (that’s another blog).  I ended up switching to an Internal Medicine group, that is a lot better, so when I got my first appointment, I brought in the form, to this poor doctor who has never even met me.  She was nice, and didn’t ask many questions, and filled out the form.  

Then the holidays, work, and life happened, and I didn’t have the opportunity to take ANOTHER morning off to go to the DMV and do this again.  But, since the clock was ticking, I found a day.  I made sure all my mail had the correct address, paper-clipped all my crap together, took another Uber (cha-ching) and went back to east middle of Nowhere to the Driver’s License office.

This guy was also super nice, but as he examined the form, he told me that it didn’t include the specific information it needed explaining my particular accommodations that I need IN MY VEHICLE THAT IS NOT IN COLORADO.

I asked him (still being my super nice, Advocate self)  “Ok, well does it say to include that information on the form?”

DMV Dude: “Well, no.  But the doctor is just supposed to know.”

Clearly, they teach mind reading in med school.  I wish they had taught that in Public Health school, then maybe I would have known what I needed before I went to the DMV twice

I know he was just trying to help, but clearly not understanding how healthcare works, this kind young man said “Well if you can go back today and have them fill it out, and come back, I can help you right away.”

My doctor’s office is a half an hour in the OPPOSITE direction from my house, so about an hour from the DMV, which is in the middle of nowhere in the other direction.  Also,  you don’t just stroll into Internal Medicine and say “Hey, I need someone who can just jot some words on this form.  AGAIN.”

This was also the day of the Super Bowl parade, so getting anywhere in the city would take twice as long.  I ALSO need to mention, that in my current job, I do not have paid time off.  Not only am I paying to Uber each time, but I’m missing valuable work time that I am not getting compensated for.  My choice, but still, another factor that makes each DMV trip even more painful.

After they sent me away the second time, I had a very long moral dilemma.  I had a form with my doctor’s signature, and we had discussed my accommodations and everything I needed, technically I could just write in the notes section, whatever they needed and save myself a trip BACK to my doctor’s office.  I also didn’t have health insurance during this time, so I was not about to be billed for a dr filling out a form they ALREADY FILLED OUT.

Finally, I decided I was just going to fill in the information, and make another trip to the DMV.  Well, apparently the universe didn’t think that was a good idea because the form was blank.  After my second trip, the guy at the DMV had TAKEN THE FORM THAT WAS SIGNED and given me a blank one, without even telling me.  I was literally back at square one.  Are you kidding me?

At this point, I had lost much of my motivation to even make this happen.  The other reason that I was in such a panic to get my CO license in the first place was because I was going to be applying for jobs with the state, and having a CO license is a requirement.  At this point though, I had gone through the process and checked with HR, and since I already worked at the state, and could prove residency, as long as I was working on it, they told me it wasn’t as urgent.  That helped me relax a little bit, but I still just wanted to get it done.  The clock was still ticking, and as I mentioned, after spending 10 years trying to get my license, I will be damned if I was going to sacrifice it because the system is completely inefficient.

Fast forward to May, after four months of not having health insurance (another blog), and I make an appointment to see my new PCP, and figure i’ll have her fill out the form ONCE AGAIN.  Please note- this was AFTER I had been messaging with my team (who are all residents so I never see the same person twice) and they said I could mail the form, and they would fill it out and send it back.  Then they told me I needed to make an appointment EVEN THOUGH THEY ALREADY FILLED IT OUT ONCE.  But whatever, at this point I had other issues I wanted to discuss anyway so I actually just took a whole freaking day off in the name of wellness and took the bus to the doctor.  Because Eff Uber when the sun is out and I have nothing but time.  

I go to the doctor, and wait… wait… because healthcare is inefficient.  Then I get in with the doctor, and she says, “So you’re here for some paperwork?”  

“Yes, and you have the paperwork.  It was in an envelope with a note that included very specific instructions on what to write and it had a note that said, DO NOT LOSE THIS FORM.”

“I’ll be right back.”

I’m sure you know where this is going.  They couldn’t find the form.  I decided before I even went, I was not leaving without this form so I told them to find it.   They were super gracious, and they did find it.  Let me re-emphasize. I WROTE DOWN what I wanted them to write on the form.  This was another person who had never met me, so I basically did all the work and they got to bill my insurance.  CHA- CHING.  I left with the form.

Today, 2 weeks after that appointment, I decided to just take the plunge.  I gathered all my documentation UH-GAIN.  Left the house at 7 a.m. in the rain and Ubered to the DMV.  Luckily, I had the same girl I had the first time, who raised both eyebrows when I said “Maybe third time’s the charm?”

In less than 20 minutes, I was waiting to get my picture taken.  I was a little worried when she disappeared for a little too long, that there was some other reason I wouldn’t be leaving with a license, but I made a vow to myself I was not leaving until it was complete.  I was done playing games.  

So now 6 months later, I left with my Colorado license and and a goofy picture because apparently in Colorado you can’t show your teeth when you smile, BUT I DON’T CARE!!  Now that this is behind me, next time I can just renew this baby online!  The Maine chapter of my identity is officially off the books… there you have it!

Best of luck to all of you as you move into your new lives, and new identities.

For those of you who want the TL:DR version, here are my top five lessons learned from the Driver’s License Saga Part II:

1. Don’t trust the internet.  If you have an adapted vehicle or any sort of your driving experience was a little different, call ahead of time to see if there is any additional documentation you need (I went back and looked, and that part of the website was down. Of course)
2. Make copies of everything and stay organized!!!!! I wish I would’ve asked for a copy of the form before they took it away (But I thought I was getting the same one back) JUST SCAN OR MAKE COPIES.  After my first trip, I just kept the documents I knew had the correct information so if I did have time to go back, I could just grab my “DMV packet!”  It saved everyone time once  got there.
3. Keep your cool.  Whether TSA or the DMV, if there are added steps for you, even if you are annoyed, take a deep breath and be clear on what you need to do.  It’s ok to mention there are gaps in the process or how it can be improved, but leave with a smile or at least a “Thank you.” and  you’re more likely to get what you need eventually.
4. DIY. Always.  If  you want something done right the first (or second time) DO IT YOURSELF. Clearly my PCP who I was meeting for the first time is not going to know about my car in Maine.  Write the exact language you want them to put on the form, this goes for any sort of eligibility requests, or Medical Necessity as well.  Any guidance you can provide, saves them a lot of time and will get you your form back a lot quicker.  If you don’t know the language to use, find an advocate or someone who can help you make sure you’re “playing the game” correctly.  Hit me up, I minored in this!
5. DON’T GIVE UP.  Seriously.  Cheesy as it sounds.  Figure out what you need, and the people who can help you get it, and keep at it.  The system is broken, but we can’t let it win.  I will definitely be writing a letter, since if that form had been on the website, it would have made my life a lot easier, but ultimately I got what I came here for, and I can now take a deep breath and enjoy my new Colorado life.  

All in a day’s work!