Paperwork

They all bear the same return address and come in the same institutional envelopes, but I've learned to pick them out by color. The eggshell ones are informational. The ultra white ones are rejected claims. The pink ones like the color of a china piggy bank - the most rare - are reimbursement checks.

All of them together make a small mountain of paper.

I have so much correspondences from our insurance carrier, I feel like I'm having a direct impact on global warming through the defoliation required for my mailings.

You'd think that with a child with special needs, folks would cut you a break, that they'd streamline the process and reduce the paperwork. Nope. Not. No way. It's a little like a being converted from an occasional house guest to a permanent boarder - where's that rent check?

Don't get me wrong. I'm grateful to have my insurance plan. I can see very clearly from the pre-adjusted numbers what life would be like without it. Part of me says Don't complain about the size of the life raft when there are sharks in the water.

But part of me also wishes that there was another way; for me and for everyone who has to care for someone with a disability.

But I'm making my way up the mountain regardless. I pull a few more fat envelopes down and keep up with the numbers. I make a few phone calls each day and keep up with the claims. I exercise my shredder periodically and recycle my little mountain of paper.

I'm glad at least they don't vary the color of the correspondence - it's nice to know at least which ones I want to open.