Saturday, January 8, 2011

Of Cars and Cadillacs.

I have a gazillion fabulous work stories.  None of which I can share.  [TEASE!].  Hippa laws, remaining happily employed, the fear of getting dooced, the fear of being found by the plaintiff bar, etc.   BUT.... 

I will now relay a story that is purely hypothetical.  A fictionalized account used solely for the purposes of reaching the punchline below:

Today I reviewed the claim of a 20-something person with SEVERE disabilities.  A 1-3 word vocabulary, depending on the report.  Unable to independently dress, eat, bath, etc.  Litany of various diagnosis and issues and behaviors.  

For all you saps out there, she was not injured.  Their very own doctor said so.  So settle down.  Nonetheless, not exactly a case you'd want to a jury to get ahold of, no?   Given my extensive expertise (*cough*) in the special needs world, I told plaintiff counsel (from day one! and in every phone call!) that they'll need a special needs trust and conservatorship before I can settle.  Did they do this?  NO.  Has hypothetical plaintiff counsel been previously & recently suspended by the state bar for being an incompetent ninny?  YES.  Are we close to statute?  VERY.

...There are other things but I wrote them out and deleted.  Couldn't imagine the mom reading it.
Or, I guess, my boss. 

No one ever likes to talk about death or money.  But SO IMPORTANT.  Employer provided life insurance, alone, if provided directly to a SN kid, would blow the asset test for SSI.  I did learn today the car is exempt - Assuming mine were running.  Which it never seems to be.  I wonder what salvage value would be?  Would that fall under the car exemption or assets? 

Anyway, we are paying too much for (too much?) life insurance right now but that was part of the frenzied new-baby must-do-something-ANYTHING kick.  Now that the panic has subsided, we should reassess.  But in the process, the nice people at MetDesk told us that Down Syndrome was the "Cadillac of disabilities".  At the time, pre-heart-surgery, spending eight hours a day trying to keep my girl growing (no exaggeration), I thought that was a silly thing to say.

But Cate said something very similar here (12/29/10).  [Given my newly-learned internet rules, I'm supposed to ask first. Um, ok w/you?  Sorry?].  I think we're floating around on the far reaches of the special needs community too.  My girl is happy, engaging, able to communicate (via sign), affectionate and no more "work" / "effort" / "involved" / ??? (that's a linguistical landmine) than any other 2 year old.  Especially now that her heart's been fixed.  Even before, in some ways, she was easier than her brother who never stopped screaming.  Certainly less than my purely hypothetical 20-something claimant.  And this is also probably venturing into minefield, but if my girl's gorgeous face looked a little bit different, my club pass would probably be rescinded. 

At least for now - maybe - I don't know - we haven't started school yet...

No punchline either...
And I'm going to sign off on that incredibly vague, unsatisfying note.

1 comment:

  1. man, now i want to know the secret stories.

    I have got to get on that paperwork stuff. argh.

    permalink to that post of mine (which of course you have permission):

    that's on my paperwork list too, figure out the stuff I don't know about my blog, like permalinks.