Rant #2,055: This Just Doesn't Seem To Be My Day

"I guess I should have stayed in bed
My pillow wrapped around my head
Instead of waking up to find
A nightmare of another kind
She went away
This just doesn't seem to be my day."
     --"This Just Doesn't Seem To Be My Day," Written by Tommy Boyce and Bobby Hart, from The Monkees (LP)

Well, there was no "she" involved, really, but suffice it to say that yesterday was one of the worst days I have ever spent on this earth.

It started pretty innocently, getting up for the first workday of the year, doing what I had to do to get ready, and finally, it was time to leave for work.

I kissed my wife, and little did I know that about a minute later, the tumultuous day was about to begin.

Frigid temperatures aside, I got into the car, started it up, and the dummy light went right on.

My tire pressure was low in one tire, the one on the rear passenger side, so I figured I would go to a local gas station and fill it with air.

I get to the station, someone was ahead of me doing the same thing, and when he was done, I pulled up, got out of the car, and proceeded to fill the tire with air, something I have done countless times during my more than 40 years of driving.

But the air would not go into the tire.

I checked with the worker at the booth there, and he said that the air pump was working, but I tried again, to no avail.

I looked at the tire, thought it had enough air in it to make it to work, and drove there, stopping at another gas station on the way to try to fill up the tire once again.

And once again, I could not get air into the tire.

Right then and there, I figured I would bring the car into a local car shop there, and let them take a look at it, because it must be some type of flat.

I figured I would get an oil change, too, to make it completely worth my while to go there, as I needed one anyway.

I proceeded to the station when it opened, told the guy at the desk of my plight, and proceeded to work.

Once I got to work, I not only prepared myself as I normally do for the workday, but I brought with me the paperwork I needed for an interview I was scheduled for by our state's Social Security department, a necessary interview that they have to make sure that my son, who gets Supplemental Security Income, continues to be in the program, even though now he gets Social Security only.

The interview, which was set up by them, not me, was slated for 10 a.m., so I had all my paperwork set up as the day crept up to that hour.

I received a text from my wife sometime after 8:30 a.m. or so, saying that my son was sick, was throwing up, and did not feel well at all, so she called his place of work and said he would not be coming in that day.

But then later, maybe an hour or so later, I received a call from my son, telling me that he had called the police, because he felt very ill, had almost fainted, and with no one home, he didn't know what to do, so the police and an ambulance were on their way.

At first, I was not only shocked and nervous, but I told him that I wish he had called me first, or my wife first, as we would have come home and taken him to the doctor, but after thinking about it, he did the right thing.

I contacted my wife, and I told her about my car, and the fact that I had this Social Security appointment at 10 a.m., so I was literally stranded at my work.

Right after, the police contacted me, told me where my son would be taken to--a local hospital--and that everything would be OK.

This was getting past 10 a.m., and still no call from Social Security.

My wife rushed to the hospital, and I continued with my workday because, again, I was stranded.

But still no call from Social Security ... 10:30 ... 11 ...

I decided to call them, which is akin to taking your hand, gripping onto a tooth in your mouth, and ripping your own tooth out of your mouth.

The number on the letter I was given was called, but it was not working, ringing on and on and on without anyone picking up the phone.

I called the main number, but if calling the other number was akin to pulling your own tooth, calling this number is like giving yourself your own appendectomy.

You can hang on this line for hours, and they keep on telling you to "hang onto the line, someone will be with you soon."

After hanging for about 45 minutes, Social Security actually called ... about two hours late.

Without any real explanation, the interview started, it went well, and then, the interviewer asked me to send him pay stubs for my son for about the past year and a half.

I had all the material with me, and I asked him if it would be easier to send the material electronically rather than by normal snail mail.

He agreed, and after he gave me his email address, I asked him if he would please send me some type of notification telling me that he had received these stubs. He agreed, and I proceeded to send him the material.

Little did I know what I was getting myself into.

Evidently, his email has some type of capacity limit, because even though I broke down the stubs at about 10 per email, some of the emails evidently went through, others did not, because of capacity size.

It took me over an hour to sort out what went through and what didn't, and to this moment, I have no idea if he received all of this, because he never sent me the notification that I asked for to tell me that he had, so also to this moment, I have no idea if he received anything that I sent him.

And remember, through all of the above, I am at work, supposed to be doing work, and well, let's just say that I multitasked pretty well yesterday.

Anyway, I was sending this material out through lunch, and I got a text from my wife about my son's progress at the hospital. He was resting, was hooked up to various machines, and he was basically in a sit and wait situation. If you have been in a hospital, you know exactly what I mean.

Anyway, with the interview over, I also finally got my car back. It was not a flat. The worker said that I should never use a gas station air pump, because none of them ever work, and I have to believe him, because I have successfully put air in car tires before, and never had any problems at all--yesterday was the very first time I had had a problem.

So with the interview over, and my car available to me once again, I decided to leave work early. I just finished up what I was doing, and by a little after 2 p.m., I left work.

I got to the hospital, and finally met up with my wife and son, and yes, he looked pretty bad.

Over the next four hours or so, we were in a waiting game until his vital signs improved.

To make this very long story a bit shorter, he had a severe intestinal virus and was dehydrated. He had a slight fever, but by 6 p.m. or so, he was released, and while my wife drove home with him, I went to the local pharmacy and picked up a few things for him that the nurse said he need to recuperate.

He also has a doctor's note, saying he cannot go to work until Friday, so the next few days, he will sleep, rest up, and get better.

Thank God that he is OK, and thank God that he had the presence of mind to do what he did.

So finally, by about 7:30, I finally sat down to relax myself, after experiencing one of the most tumultuous days of my life.

By 8:30, I was a goner, and I slept fairly well, now knowing that everything that happened yesterday was over and done with, and that my son was safe and sound.

Yesterday was just a terrible day, period. To have it come so early in the new year, well, I hope it is not an omen for the year. I had some great hopes for this year, but it didn't start off very well.

Right before I left work, a co-worker told me to simply put this day into the trash can, forget about it, and move on.

I have to do that, I really do, and I will certainly try to do that, but really, how low can it go?

That is what I wonder as I have typed this Rant out.