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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/blog/scarlettsaysso/day/5-30-2025
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Rated: E · Book · Experience · #2336510

Experiences and thoughts based on my everyday life

This book will contain my daily thoughts.
May 30, 2025 at 5:16pm
May 30, 2025 at 5:16pm
#1090299
We went to my psych evaluation appointment for my social security determination on Wednesday morning. Rick drove me to the appointment, and because his mom had to be at the airport around one p.m., she came along and waited in the car while we were in the office. I was quite anxious about this appointment, but I needn't have worried.

We arrived right on time, to the minute. It was an office with the smallest waiting room I think I have ever seen. There was a note on the reception window that stated, "Have a seat, I'll be right with you!" There was no sign in sheet. I asked the other patients if we are required to check in, they nodded. I peeked into the window, and the young woman sitting about six feet from the desk looked at me with annoyance when I asked where I could check in. "They'll be with you in a few minutes. What doctor are you here for?" I told her I was there for a psych eval for social security. "They'll be with you shortly."

Twenty minutes passed and NOTHING. Someone came to the door to call a patient back, and Rick jumped into action. He asked the person if we could please get checked in so I would not be marked down as arriving late to this appointment, which would be a mark against me with social security. This person apologized profusely and ducked her head into the reception area, and I heard her calmly correct the office staff and tell them to get it together. Thirty seconds later, I had a clipboard in hand with paperwork to fill out.

It took about an hour to be called back, and in the meantime, I noticed a well dressed woman with an official looking badge sit across from us. She seemed to be observing us, as I sat there, tears in my eyes from anxiety, bouncing my my foot nervously. She stayed for about fifteen minutes, before abruptly standing, going to the window and announcing her departure to the office staff. "See you guys next time!"

I told Rick that at my last evaluation, something similar had happened. I told him that the determination workers do sometimes show up to evaluations to observe the people whose cases they are tasked with determining disability for. I told him I was pretty sure that's why she was there. I know I sounded paranoid, but my spidey senses were tingling.

Finally, over an hour after my scheduled appointment, the same woman who had come to the door before, opened the door and called my name. I stood and walked through the door and she ushered me into the office and shut the door. SHE was the psych! She again apologized and told me to have a seat.

We went through a series of tests and questions, a lot of which were very difficult, and the emotions could not be kept in check. She was VERY kind, offering tissues and reassurance. She said that many people have memory issues with depression, anxiety, and adhd. I told her that my most recent brain scan showed evidence of moderate stage white matter disease. She looked at me with pity, and said, "Well that is something different entirely, I am so sorry."

We ceased the tests and questions and she said, "Okay, I am supposed to be an unbiased source of opinion for social security, so they can approve or deny your case. I am going to tell you that given everything I have seen here, if this information matches what your practitioners have reported, you will be approved. No one with a case like yours should be forced to work."

This was a breath of fresh air compared to my last exam for social security, which was completed by an older male doctor, who dragged my trauma out and insisted I speak on it, even though my most current trauma, a sexual assault, had occurred just a couple of months before the evaluation. That appointment left me feeling very low.

In any case, I should have a decision within four to six weeks. I am guardedly optimistic about the outcome.


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