Powerless to Overcome

If any of you have experience with the 12 steps, and I do, you will recognize the three words in that title.

If not, good for you.  For me, it has been echoing through my addled little brain for the last 24 hours.   (I will self reveal and tell you I was a member of OA , Overeater’s Anonymous, for many years and that it is an amazing group.)

What does the word, “powerless” actually mean?  It means I have no way to act on my own behalf.

I don’t even think G–d can help me on this one.  Not unless he can make the bureaucracy that runs health insurance and the murky depths of Cobra and Human Resources and who-knows-what- run faster.  Somehow I think the Divine would get put on hold too.

But, I would like to see that.

Anyway, let me explain.  We are currently ‘between’ insurance policies in the sense that Stan’s former company does not pay our premium so we had to pay it ourselves, which by law, is our right.  As of January 1, 2015, his new company will add us on to their insurance.

So, we were allowed to write two checks, totalling around 2k, to a third party that pays our insurance to our current carrier so there is no lapse in care.  This is a big deal if you are me.

My weekly infusions cost thousands of dollars.

So, all of our medical stuff has been proceeding a pace.  I have been to the doctor, the kids have been, and we have picked up prescriptions.  Everything is all good.

But, when I called to re-order my home infusion supplies, they suddenly had no record of our checks, nor were they ‘allowed’ to send us my medicine.

I thought that was kinda ironic and pointed that out to as many people I could get on the line at the insurance company.

Guess what? They didn’t care!

So down the rabbit hole I went.  Four hours later I emerged with the number, e-mail and fax number of a federal government advocate that runs interference on this kind of thing.  This nice person informed me that Stan’s former employer had not done their job in sending on some sort of paper work.  She would start there and then untangle my mess.

I faxed all the pertinent information I could find and she (my rep) called Human Resources at the old company.  As of Friday, they had not responded.

The next step is that they get a letter from the feds.  She promised me they will respond, because they have to.  It just may take a while.

In the meantime, with each day I have no medication, I run a fever and my fatigue and pain level ratchet up.  But, I cannot really explain that to my family.  No one who doesn’t have this stupid disease can quite get it.

I understand that, I really do.

So, I march forward and do the best I can.

But I feel more powerless than ever.

What will happen?  When will I get my meds?  Will I get really sick?  Why am I running a fever all the time?

Why do I feel like a boa constrictor is squeezing the life out of me?  Is that all about the infusion meds or something deeper?

Possibly something deeper that I won’t share here.  But again, I feel powerless to overcome.

I am trying desperately to remember what it is you are supposed to do in the 12 steps to overcome powerlessness.

Ah, I know: turn it over to a power greater than yourself. Admit you cannot control these things and let go of them by asking a higher power for help.

Okay then, I keep thinking the higher power is not happy with me these days either.  I guess that is sort of stupid.  It doesn’t even jive with my own theology.

I believe in G–d.  I pray.  I just have had trouble believing lately that my personal troubles and doings are of any interest to Him/Her.

I am powerless to overcome.  Powerless to overcome so many things in my life.  This struggle over my most basic of needs, my infusion meds, is symbolic.

Life is full of struggles, of powerlessness, for all of us.  How we deal with it is what makes us who we are.  I believe that.

Certainly, Judaism, is a story of powerlessness and a struggle for understanding how G–d can chose a people and then let them suffer so much. Yet, I know we are not abandoned.

I know this in my head.  We are here to learn.

I just can’t accept it in my heart most days.

Today I will practice acceptance, but not hopelessness in the face of being powerless.

No.  I am here to learn.

I have not been abandoned.  But I am alive in this imperfect and messed up world.  I have to take whatever it throws my way.