I'm in one of those phases where there are 400 ideas floating around in my head at once. This is a relief; I'm emerging from a stretch where my brain turned into left-out Play-Doh, the kind abandoned in a just-moist-enough spot to be of indeterminate color, hard, cracked and moldy.
Most of the atrophy was due to an extraordinary string of hard hits at year-end. The most significant of those was discovering (right after an ER visit) that Big Guy's health insurance had been cancelled. We hadn't been notified by the carrier, and despite logging many hours in phone-tree hell still haven't found out why it happened. Nor have we succeeded in reinstating it. I have Big Guy's case worker on it, as well as a friend who works for a State senator. But no insurance for Big Guy = no psychiatrist = no medication = oh-wow-let's-not-go-there. I can get scripts for meds through a city hospital clinic if I have to (after a half-day in a waiting room), but the cost of filling them is prohibitive. It's a problem.