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Hell has been unleashed

**Warning-some language not suitable for children**

Hell hath been unleashed and its name is Reader.

Remember my hubby, G?

Remember how he has been going to University as part of a retraining program since he can't work his factory job because of carpal tunnel and assorted other repetitive strain injuries?

Remember how he was sort of thrown willy-nilly into his University program without (I think) proper upgrading or preparation?

Remember how his injury is now being exacerbated by the 6 or 8 hours of homework he must do every night?

Well, he met with his new caseworker ( he got switched from the old one who was an asshat) and told the new caseworker, who we'll call idiot, that his hands, wrists and elbows were hurting him so much that he couldn't sleep and that he was even having problems concentrating because he was tired and uncomfortable. His right hand is noticeably swollen along with his whole lower arm.

Here is what the idiot had to say...

"Sometimes you have to work through the pain."

"You have to think of it as a means to an end."

"You haven't even looked into painkillers so how can you say you can't do the workload?"

YOU

DIN'NT!!

You didn't just suggest to my husband that he should suck it up and get himself some narcotics.

You didn't just tell a man who worked his ass off for a company for 20 years that he was a wuss and should ignore the pain that you all originally told him he SHOULD NOT work through when he was doing it for a factory.

You motherfucker.

He also told him that people who did their upgrading at the institution that my husband went to almost always struggle with University.

Yeah, dickhead, that might have been good to know before you sent him there.

**breathe, Reader, breeeeaaaathe**

So, anyhow, clearly this sent me right over the motherfuckin' edge. I had G call his friend from the factory who is a benefit rep and ask him who the governing body for this Worker's Safety Insurance Board is and I did a little research.

Turns out that we can file a complaint. And it turns out that I can act as my husband's representative.

Yup, as long as he gives me permission to act on his behalf I can do all the talking. I don't know if anyone's noticed but I'm really good at that.

Especially if you've pissed me off.

And, yes, you have pissed me off. So much so that I am going to be your worst nightmare. So much so that I'm guessing when I'm done there will be some policy changes. Not only will you fix what is going on with my husband but there will be reprimands and fucking apologies made.

Oh, you don't think so?

Bring it.
Fuckers.

8:19 a.m. - 2007-02-02

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