The Case Manager

As I mentioned in the previous post, upon my recovery, I realized that the following life changes were within my grasp.

I could get my own place.
I could go back to work.
I could date again.
I could move back closer to my family, friends, and groups that I belonged to.

Let’s talk about going back to work. The only person more grateful for the gift of another chance at life was me in 2011, after my first Transplant. I was a grateful S.O.B. to the Nth degree. I resolved to hit the ground running while doing good and paying it my gift forward. I wasn’t trying to redeem myself, I was merely trying to be a better, more moral, kind, and humble person. Sitting in a hospital bed for extended periods of time, with the nights being especially dark and lonely, a man has much time to evaluate his life. During my recovery I concluded that I was not the man I wanted to be. Not bad, not immoral. I simply wasn’t being the person I knew I could be and wanted to be. So when I got healthy I was a new man physically and spiritually. Then I got sick again.
Sigh.
2011 Grateful me was no match for 2021 Grateful Me. That sonofabitch was motivated.
I wanted to go back to work. I wanted to reclaim something. I had missed the satisfaction of a job well done since leaving the workforce. I also missed helping someone in the process. I decided that I wanted to be a Recovery Case Manager at a Drug and Alcohol treatment center. I had heard from someone who worked at the local center. They said training was being offered. No previous experience was needed. They also said that I would be a good fit.

As it turned out, I was. The interview went swimmingly well. The lead Case Managers were impressed with my story, they recognized and appreciated my real-world experience and, as I was told later, they thought my personality was perfect for the job. Wouldn’t you know it? I was a natural fit for the job.

The training was long and difficult. Recovery patients are a particularly challenging demographic. They have little in common with each other than addictive tendencies and their ability to lie and manipulate. I could handle that. I have an excellent Bullshit detector and I know how to handle people. At first, my customer service background limited me, I had a customer is always right mentality. My trainers broke me of that quickly. I was allowed, even encouraged, to call out lies and BS in order to obtain breakthroughs. I soon became regarded as one of the best RCM’s at the facility. As it turns, my style was appreciated.

I loved the job. I worked hard and I gave my clients all that I had. My fellow RCM’s and managers told me not to give so much, that the clients would use me and my good nature against me. And they did. But still, I helped many more than I hurt. I say this without ego or hubris; I was great at it.

Until I started getting sick. All the time. The clients came in from so many hazardous conditions and places. Living on the streets, halfway houses, jails, post-benders. Many were sick and there I was, an immunocompromised transplant patient being sneezed on at the height of Covid. It would lead me to make a very difficult decision.

I was able to work due to the Social Security Disabilty Insurance Ticket to Work program. For up to 9 months, I could earn any amount of money while still collecting my benefits. At the end of the trial period, I faced a decision. I had to choose whether to go back to work and lose my benefits or stay on them. At 8 months, I was suffering from a head cold that I had enjoyed for over a month. I was constantly sick due to my weak immune system. My doctor sounded the alarm. My kidney would not withstand constant attacks on my system.
Reluctantly, I had to choose to stay on benefits.

I could tell you that I have regrets, but I made the right decision. I needed to accept, finally, that I had limitations that couldn’t be ignored. I really miss that job. It was strenuous, it paid poorly and I took it home with me every night. But I did some good, made a positive impact on some, and was part of some great stories. I wish I could do it again, but it’s just not wise. The new grateful me is also interested in living for a while longer

I’m sure I will talk about my time as a Case Manager frequently. It was a special time.