I got the last piece of info that the Department of Economic Security had requested to finish my application for AHCCCS, or Access. Basically state paid health insurance. Shades of my divorce. I had gathered about 12 folders worth of identification, bills, housing information, letters from churches, a lock of hair and chauffeured it all across town to sit in a crowded room filled with crying babies and dirty kids running, screaming through the room for two hours, on the same day they've installed a new computer system and intake procedure and the lady assigned to help at the door is here from Washington state and speaks no spanish and can really do nothing more than show you where the line is, for the lady to finally call me over and ask for my ID, a power bill, a paycheck stub and my medical bills and go into another room for an hour and come back and tell me to go home and wait
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