I was reminded--again--why I so desperately want out of my present employment situation. This is the busiest time of the year for the office I work in. (Oh, not to mention that things have progressively gone down hill since my earlier departure attempt to go to the florist. But that is another blog post waiting to happen. )

The insurance agent I work for deals mostly with medicare insurance and these months are what is known in the industry as "Open Enrollment". This is the time of year that Medicare says if someone over 65 and on Medicare wants to change insurance plans, they can do it. So, since 98% of the clientele for this agent is over 65 and this is the bread-and-butter of his business...we're hoppin'. Well, actually, let me clarify and say, I'm hopping...to about 35-40 hours a week.

The main enrollment surge is over, the majority of the enrollment forms (over 300) have been submitted to one of 4 different insurance companies, all with effective coverage dates of 1/1/08. However, as I've come to expect, now is the time that we receive massive phone calls from panicked seniors for one reason or another. Some who just want to check in and let us know they're worrying, wondering if they've made a good choice. Or the majority of today's calls were from people who hadn't received their ID cards (which come directly from the different mega insurance companies) and they've already had coverage for 1 whole day. So many of the incoming calls contained the phrase, "what am I supposed to do? And then it is usually followed by some accusatory statement like, 'you said this was going to be a good thing for me'. (Okay, first of all, I'm not the insurance agent and secondly, I'm not the one who talked to you about this insurance. I'm just the lucky gal who gets to answer the phone, problem solve and get all your issues resolved as the agent doesn't do this kind of thing but rather "lets me do it".)

I've tried for years, literally, to see this as some kind of ministry. This is confusing stuff and unfortunately, the agent doesn't do a lot of follow-up care after they sign on.Who is going to help these seniors if not me? I'm their last ray of hope in a lot of instances. I feel a responsibility to them. Yes, there is some satisfaction to duking it out with Medicare and a mega corporation to get an elderly person their basic medical insurance, and there have been occasions that the senior on the other end of the phone, reduced to tears, says thank you and ends the conversation feeling somewhat hopeful. There have been a few rewarding times. But the majority of the work is protracted, not-resolved, and somehow I find myself caught in the middle of a situation that I wasn't initially a part of!

I'm thankful that I can be a source of help and hope, even encouragement in my place of work, but I'm really wearing down. I dread going to work just for the fact of having to deal with more seniors each day and a boss who doesn't want to be involved in the issues. He'll even ask me how I'm holding up. When I tell him honestly about some of these things, he ends the conversation with, "yeah, but, it isn't that bad, right?" and moves onto the next thing. When my personal life is enmeshed with dealing with my mother, her failing health, and the pressures and the weight of responsibility intensifying for my siblings and me, I fear the strain is going to take its toll on me.

Today, when I talked to a woman for over a half an hour who couldn't figure out what insurance she had, how she paid for her prescription drugs, and added, "'my mind just isn't working right today", it seemed like deja vu and the conversation I had with my own mother last night. Several times last night I asked my mother if she understood what I was saying. She gave a vague answer that could be appropriate for almost any question. She knows she is confused which is hard on her, but I don't think she knows just how confused she is.

To top off the day, after receiving constant calls at work today, helping seniors and listening to them, I had a couple of phone messages from friends of my mother's who want to clarify some things and talk through some stuff regarding my mother. My oldest sister also called me today saying that she had received a call from another of Mom's friends who thought we kids just didn't know how bad off Mom is (her husband is a doctor). (Okay, I rolled my eyes on that one!)

Can I just take a moment and have a brief moment of primal scream therapy!!! AARRRGGGGHHHH!!!!!

Seeing as I don't want to leave my mother or disregard her in her time of need and comfort, it seems logical that leaving my place of work would do the trick. I am praying that the Lord provides something different, soon, and rescues me out of this situation. I'm afraid that I will totally go over the edge, unable to hold my tongue any further (with either my boss or the clients), or I will end up babbling and drooling, retreating to some safe place inside my head and longing for a padded cell.

And yet I read in scripture this morning, the saints will receive their reward, after "patient endurance."

Hmmm. So exactly how long is "patiently enduring?" Can I be done now Lord?

(Heavy sigh.)