Irish Pride...

Pride is a funny thing. I will spare you Webster's definition, mostly because I think if you have a strong sense of it, then you already know what I'm talking about. I have a hard time swallowing my pride and when I feel my sense of pride is being threatened, I tend to get very defensive...and I cry.

Today I had to go into the Department of Health Services and apply for medical assistance and...>>>swallow<<<...food stamps. I could have had my husband go do it. I could have lugged all three of my kids in there with me as a ploy to attract a sympathetic case worker. I chose to go alone. My thought was it would make the trip quicker and the less time I had to sit in an office where everyone around me knows why I am there then the better for my pride.

I had to wait for about 20 minutes before I could be seen, even though there wasn't anyone else waiting when I got there. By the time the case worker called my name there were maybe 7 or 8 people waiting. As I expected, the case worker was all business. No friendly smile, no sympathy for the situation my family is in, not even a  "How 'bout them Bears?!". She went through the application, took my information-all without ever making eye contact with me. She then asked, what I assume is a standard question asked to all applicants, "Do you need family planning assistance, ie-birth control?" I responded that no, I did not. She then, for the first time during the interview, looked up from her computer, looked me in the eye and said, "Ya sure?"

After I decked her in the nose...I mean, after I cleared my throat, I said, "No, my husband and I both took measures to ensure we wouldn't be having more children after our third child was born with a heart condition." And you will not believe the response I received after that.Without missing a beat and without breaking eye contact she says, "Who's paying for that?"

I was so angry, I was speechless. The latter of those two doesn't happen too often. I took a breath, smiled and said, "He's currently healthy". We finished the interview and she continued her rudeness- though from then on it was really just her demeanor, meaning she stuck to the questions on the application and kept her eyes on the computer. She informed me I had 24 hours to turn in the required documentation to the office and that she "simply wouldn't be able to get to" my case until Thursday at the earliest. I thanked her, smiled and left.

I got as far as the parking lot before the tears poured from my eyes.

Like I said, pride is a funny thing. If it weren't for the 3 precious babies that give me a reason to smile each and everyday, I never would have been able to walk in that office and would have rather gone hungry. Fave Cousin wanted to call the office and raise hell. I probably should have let her, though I doubt it would make any difference. My mom tells me I deserve the benefits of a system she, my dad and my husband and I have spent years paying into. That it was a system started to help people in my situation-out of work and just trying to scrape by. That the reason it is so corrupted is the outrageous number of people that have abused and manipulated it. She told me to hold my head high. Of course that is easier said than done sometimes.

I don't want anything more than to provide basic needs for my family. I'm not sure why God has given me some of the struggles He has. All I know is it is up to me how I react to them. If that means swallowing my pride, holding my head high and walking into the public aid office so my kids can have food and medical coverage, then that's what I'll do. Even if I have to cry in the parking lot later.