Medical History Form Workers Compensation Florida: Fill & Download for Free

As a medical professional, what is your biggest concern about the COVID-19 coronavirus?I am not a medical professional. I have a scientific background, I am in public health. And what terrifies me the most was the utterance of the words “The cure can’t be worse than the problem”, and the potential for this particular point of view to start gaining traction.Listen, there is no way that this pandemic can be anything less than hugely disruptive. It is going to take the lives of many of our loved ones, it is going to impact the economy, lots of people are going to lose their jobs and face economic uncertainty. We HAVE to acknowledge this. There is no single scenario in which this is going to get going back to normal in two months. None. So just stop it already. Don’t give in to the allure of the words of people who have shown a clear disregard for their fellow human beings before. And all for what? so that capital markets and wealth can be protected?FUCK THAT. #NotDying4WallStreetIf we ease off on social distancing and revert to even a half of current measures, we will be undoing hard-won gains and face a runaway epidemic that will clearly overwhelm the medical system of every nation. We know this. We are ill-equipped in terms of testing capacity, ICU capacity, ventilators, PPE, medical professionals. And now, the investor class is trial-ballooning the concept that we should ease off on the only measures that have shown any evidence of effectiveness hoping to capitalize on the rightful unease that fills your heart with dread as you see thousands upon thousands losing their jobs.But consider the alternative.One in which easing off on measures scarcely instituted a week ago (and not even adhered to by a large proportion of entitled individuals that have been engaging in non-essential travel and non-essential socializing) inevitably leads to a huge spike in the number of infected individuals requiring medical assistance. Sure, maybe the initial estimates of 20% complication rate are much too high since the denominator, the number of infected, is still an unknown. We are primarily testing those with a travel history, a contact history and with symptoms.We simply do not know who else could be infected.And maybe the case fatality rate is equally inflated for similar reasons. Even so, the numbers are going to be sobering. In the USA, even if the rate of complications isn’t 20% but rather 5%, even if the case fatality rate isn’t 2.5% but rather 0.5%. And even if the denominator only rises to 50% of the population being infected over the next year, even then, that’s a lot of people: over 8 million with respiratory distress and requiring medical care — including nearly 1 million requiring an ICU bed and ventilation; over 800,000 dying of COVID-19 complications. The medical system has nowhere near the capacity for that. We know this. This means that many people requiring other forms of emergency medical treatment because life, may be at greater risk when every single ICU bed is already occupied by a person infected with this novel coronavirus.Oh, most of the people who die are “elderly-types” with several co-morbidities? Sure, those are the people who die. And certainly age is a huge, maybe the largest, risk-factor for death:Courtesy of ATAndyBiotech on twitterBut.The people who end-up recovering still require weeks and weeks of supportive treatment. A surprisingly large proportion. It varies by country and region so I won’t even pretend to know the number. Early numbers in NYC were in the 35% range. Recent CDC estimates for the 20-44 age cohort are 14.3 percent hospitalized, 2 percent in the ICU, and 0.1 percent fatality rate. As you move up the age pyramid the risk for each of these things (hospitalization, ICU, fatality) keep rising. But the point is that nobody is infallible and the entire age pyramid will be cramming into overstretched medical facilities.Meanwhile, as we overwhelm the medical system, we will be putting the entire membership of medical professionals (nurses, doctors, first responders, respiratory therapists, etc.) at increasing odds of personal danger by sending them to fight a fight that we are unwilling to support wholeheartedly by what is a rather insignificant amount of personal sacrifice. That shows a callous disregard for their commitment to doing the right thing. It’s amazing to see these folks, many of whom entered their profession out of a sense of public good, give it their all on our behalf, retired doctors and nurses rushing back to get recertified so that they can lend a helping hand to their brothers and sisters in arms even as they discover that we don’t have their back, that the federal government is too slow to react to their increasing need for supplies.Our callous disregard for their safety is not what they deserve.Scarcely less than two decades ago, we sent young men and women to die in foreign lands without the necessary body and vehicle armor to at least provide them a modicum of safety. In the age before GoFundMe, their loved ones were already deep into crowd-sourcing in order to raise funds to buy needed equipment so that their loved ones would be better protected. The worst? Sure, you may not recall Donald Rumsfeld’s infamous words: “You go to war with the army you have, not the army you might want or wish to have at a later time.”. Those words would be true, were it not for the fact that it was a war of choice. A war that we entered at a time of our own choosing. That was a fucking shocking abdication of responsibility and a grotesque disregard for common decency. It was only last summer that the James Zadroga 9/11 Health and Compensation Act passed congress. You know the one. The one that ensured proper funding to provide for the medical needs of the brave first responders who rushed to help on 9/11 at great personal sacrifice. Sure, James Zadroga only passed away from his 9/11-related ailments 15 years ago but who’s counting anyway?A less than responsible response to this pandemic threatens to do the very same. How shameful that some in the highest echelons of power are contemplating a similar course of action. We have had months to prepare for this pandemic as the situation deteriorated in Hubei and signs of a chain of international transmission trickled out of China with increasing intensity. We are seeing Italy, Iran, Spain, France toppling under the crushing weight of an unrelenting wave of infection. We even got an early trial by fire in Kirkland. And here we are, weeks later, still unable to assure our front line responders that we can provide timely access to PPE, to testing kits, to ventilators. That we are contemplating running headfirst into an incomprehensible number of casualties, one which will certainly include many of the medical professionals that are trying to save us and our loved ones, by relaxing social distancing efforts is beneath us.For me? All I have to do is look to history to see that when humanity is presented with a fork on the road, generally, we split into two tribes sure in the knowledge that we are choosing the correct course. Sometimes, it’s like in The Poseidon Adventure, and neither group really knows what’s going on and who is going to be right in the end. But at the very least, ask yourself this question. The last time that the shit hit the fan and we were at the edge of disaster, were the people leading your group the ones responsible for the debacle? Are you being led by a gang of sociopaths looking out for number one and seeking your tacit approval as means of empowerment? The same people floating out this particular trial balloon of insanity and grotesquerie are the very same people that barely more than a decade ago were “the smartest guys in the room”, fucking the world over through their sheer hubris, incompetence, and greed. They’re the same sociopaths that sold garbage dressed up as AAA-rated financial instruments and then also made money when these instruments, which were designed to fail, began to fail.People make mistakes, all of the time. But making the same critical mistake twice in a lifetime? Why should we seek guidance from them in a time of crisis?Stay sane, stay safe, #StayHome. Don’t be a #COVIDIOT.And remember, #NotDying4WallStreet. #LloydBlankfeinWasBadAtIvestmentBankingAndIsAnEvenWorseEpidemiologistPost-Script added on 2020–03–25:I had a thoughtful exchange with Dan Rosenberg, in which he made some valid arguments about the economy, ones that I wholeheartedly agree with. I do not mean to give the impression that there is no merit to the saying that the cure cannot be worse than the problem. Far from it. The health and welfare of people is intricately linked to their economic situation and I know this. As Dan correctly pointed out as well, this isn’t just about Wall Street. The economy isn’t an abstract thing; it employs people, provides their livelihood, it contributes to their welfare. I may be a bleeding heart liberal, but I don’t mind capitalism and enjoy its trappings. I just don’t think that we need to kneel at its altar and I don’t think that we need to bow to its high-priests. And I certainly think that we have to be extremely skeptical about a bunch of investment bankers telling us that the economy “must go back to normal” in two weeks, or that it would be ruinous for the Federal government to borrow too much money in order to protect the American worker. And we sure should be skeptical of a president who is involved in the hotel and hospitality business wanting for things to get back to “normal” as soon as possible.I don’t want my embracing of the #NotDying4WallStreet hashtag to distract from my main argument, which is that we cannot possibly be considering that the economy gets to go “back to normal” in two weeks, while we are going to be in the middle of an exponential rise in infected patients and fatalities, with hospitals being overrun and our medical professionals struggling to cope with the horror. The heroes in our medical and first response system are running out of PPE, out of ventilators, out of ICU beds in NYC right now.And this is still the relative calm before the storm.In two weeks' time, there may be between 10 and 30 times the number of people seeking medical attention, requiring ventilators; this is how exponential growth works. Over the weekend, I had a discussion with a Quoran who will remain unnamed. They were touting America’s response to the pandemic because of the apparent rate of growth in case fatalities, which at the time looked to be smaller than that observed at a similar point in time in Italy. The flaw in their reasoning? they were using “time since first fatality” as an arbitrary marker to perform the comparison. The projections were based on looking at the quasi-linear part of the graph that we call the “lag-phase”, right before shit gets real and rates skyrocket at an exponential rate. Moreover, the key point is that although you can move the curve around and it may delay or hasten the time of arrival at the crisis point it does not make the crisis point go away.In terms of an epidemic, the number of casualties always lags behind the number of confirmed infections and the number of confirmed infections always lags behind the number of actual infections. Why? because of the incubation period, the number of asymptomatically infected, and the lack of comprehensive testing. The numbers we are seeing today are a reflection of people that were being infected one to two weeks ago. Now I dare you to think about Mardi Gras and the current explosion of rates in the New Orleans region (the highest rate of new cases in the world) and then all those kids that spent spring break asses to elbows in Florida beaches and then flew home. We are sitting on a goddamn time bomb.Do you think it brings me joy to point out that in four days we have overtaken that person’s rosy projections? At the time, we were sitting at just over 400 fatalities. They thought we would be at 700 deaths by the end of April. Tonight we surpassed 900 deaths, 5 days later. Let me reiterate: the casualties more than doubled in 5 days. Exponential growth.Some of you doubt my motives. That I’m some socialist or communist that hates the free market or, ironically, that I’m arguing for the shutdown of the economy because “fuck the poors”. I mean, it’s fairly rich (pardon the pun) for defenders of capitalism to all of a sudden show so much compassion towards the poor or working poor now, in the midst of a pandemic. But I digress. My solution to this whole thing, such as it is, is for the government to borrow huge amounts of money and to invest it in the safety and welfare of its people. This will wipe out a generation’s worth of wealth. Sorry to be a realist. But this buys us the time to come up with an action plan for the eventual resuming of economic activity. It buys us the time to keep infection rates manageable until we reach herd immunity through natural infections or a vaccine without overwhelming the medical system. In time, those that were infected with this virus and live to tell the tale get to go back to work and resume normal activities.I will share with you something that I wrote to Dan:“I would be happy to regale you with my thoughts on how to get out of this mess in the least disruptive way possible. Note that I say “least disruptive way possible” because I am a realist. Something that I hope you share with me. This is a war that we are fighting. We may lose more people than we have lost in previous conflicts that qualify as war. And the president himself wants to be considered a wartime president. I cannot imagine that I’m about to quote Liz Cheney, who at times has shown herself to be a monstrous individual:"There will be no normally functioning economy if our hospitals are overwhelmed and thousands of Americans of all ages, including our doctors and nurses, lay dying because we have failed to do what's necessary to stop the virus".She’s right.p.p.s. I want to again, turn the focus on the heroic healthcare workers that are currently having to go to work in the face of scarcities in personal protective equipment and the gear that they need to treat their patients. If America “goes back to normal” in two weeks' time, how about if they refuse to go to work and treat you and your loved ones until we can assure them that we are sending them into battle with everything they need?

July 22, 2011That July day, while searching for financing for people with bad or no credit, we stumbled across a company, Alliance Credit Relief, with offices in Florida, New York and California. They checked out with the Better Bussiness Bureau with an A- rating. They had only been around about a year, with two negative complaints that had been successfully closed. I must have searched Google for hours, only encountering positive reviews. I took a chance, filled out a brief contact form and clicked submit. With no responses over the next 5 days, I continued to search, make phone calls and submit loan applications that were rejected almost immediately.With no aid in sight, my husband returned to work 3 weeks early after his hip replacement surgery, unable to take anything stronger than ibuprofen due to 2 hour commute each way and a previous addiction to tramadol. On his 4th day back to work, I got an excited phone call from him- Alliance Credit Relief contacted him, letting us know we had been approved for a $10,000 loan, payed out once our paperwork was completed and notarized.I was literally speechless, crying. Our nightmare was almost over and we might just make it out of Shoma alive. My husband forwarded me the paperwork and I got to work collecting the necessary information and paperwork. Our contact, Diane called several times, detailing how the process worked, when we could expect the funds to be transferred and to see if we had any questions. The next morning, my husband went to a notary, completed the paperwork and faxed everything to Diane. She confirmed receiving our forms, assuring us funds would be transferred by the end of the week.Smith Farm, Lake Worth, Florida (Smith Farm and homes for sale.)In the meantime, knowing that our loan had been approved, our agent found our next home in a gated community known as Smith Farm in Lake Worth. She, herself, had lived for 10 years in the community and was where most of real estate transactions occurred. The house had been empty for almost two years due to a foreclosure and the homeowner's association were willing to rent the house, despite our rocky tenant history.It was beautiful, on a cul-de-sac with a backyard that bordered on a shallow pond. Inside needed some cosmetic work, and the layout was a bit unusual- but the Tiffany style light fixtures compensated for everything. There had been no reported crimes in over two years. We submitted our application, provided one month's rent as a deposit and began arranging for a moving company to move the largest pieces. To save money, we would do the rest. Having only been in the townhome or less than 3 months, most of the boxes and packing supplies were in the garage.Not even 24 hours later, our agent had the lease. We signed and initialed everywhere. Because of our history, they asked for first, last and a security deposit, payable one week before moving in. It was a done deal or so we thought.The same day the lease was filed, we received a call from Diane. We were still scheduled to receive the funds Friday, but there was one issue that had to be settled. The guarantor of our loan was requesting funds for background checks, processing fees and the first month's loan payment. They requested the funds be wired to corporate headquarters in New York via Western Union. It seemed a bit unusual, but after talking to Diane, who assured us this was standard operating policy, we wired the funds as instructed. An hour later, we received confirmation of the transfer and when the funds would available- tomorrow.That night had to have been the best night's in months. We had a new home in a safe community and a small nest egg against future repairs or mishaps. The next morning, hoppng online, I was a little concerned that the funds were not there, but went about setting up utility transfers and enrolling our son in preschool. Later that day, I received a flurry of texts and messages from my husband to call him immediately. Diane had called, the funds could not be released until the following Wednesday due to a backlog of paperwork. I tried for over 3 hours to reach Diane or any other human, but could never speak to a live voice- only voicemail.Just by the end of the day my husband called again. Everything was ok, things like this happen all the time. But, he had had to transfer more funds via Western Union, to the same account as before. They wanted the first 3 or 4 monthly payments, which would be posted to the account, giving us a few months payment free. The only available funds was the rent payment where we were currently living, but we could replace those once we got the loan in 5 days.6939 Dawntree Ct. Lake Worth, FloridaIt was at this stage, that I realized something was very very wrong, but I kept it to myself. After months of hardship, my husband seemed relaxed and excited about our future. Several times a day, I sent emails, test faxes and called Diane only getting her voicemail. The night before we were to receive the money, would be the last time I would sleep through the night for years. The next morning, we checked our bank account- no funds. We waited a few hours checked again- no funds. We called Wells Fargo to see if a transfer was in processing. No and they had never heard of Alliance Credit Relief. My husband began calling every number related to the company, only this time, there was no voice mail. Just silence.Feeling the panic building, I went downstairs to the dreaded first floor office, booted up the computer and began searching for contact information we might have missed. On a whim, I checked in again on the BBB site and it was there I saw what lead to hours of shock, horror and uncontrollable sobbing.In the two weeks since I had first researched the company, there were dozens of heartbreaking complaints from others like ourselves who had been scammed out of all their life savings. Their stories were the same as our as- only the names were different. I remember screaming for my husband, who hobbled downstairs unable to comprehend what I was saying. Looking at the screen, he realized we had fallen prey to a master scam. His face lost all color and tears fell as he whispered “Oh my God, there's no money- we have lost everything”.Devastated, I ran out the front door into the street, trying to breathe. My son was hysterical- why are mommy & daddy scared and crying? My only thought was, the money in the bank is gone, we cannot pay rent for the place we are in, let alone to another place. I do not remember much of the next several hours. I do remember screaming over and over again, “ what are we going to do- you have to fix this”!. The remaining deposit on the new place was due in just days, and there was no way for us to get the deposit back. We were seriously days away from becoming homeless.We started reaching out to family and friends, none of whom were willing to help us. Many did not return our calls. I spoke with our agent who was trying to work out a solution to get into the Lake Worth house. Every call, text, email was met with rejection. That was until the agent called again. Both she and the agent representing Smith Farms were willing to put their commissions towards the remaining deposit. That left us 24 hours to raise $1800.The next call I received can only be considered a gift from God. My mother's best friend was going to gift us $1000 to end this nightmare once and for all. At that moment she became more than a family friend, she become my mom until the day she died two years ago. Admonished at our amazing luck I headed upstairs to overhear the most heartbreaking conversation between my husband and Grandpa Dave, the man he called his father and friend. In tears, he outlined what had happened and begged to borrow $800 under any terms and conditions. I had never heard him sound so low, defeated and scared. And the answer was no.A few hours later, Grandpa Dave called, saying he had a friend, who would take out a cash advance from his credit card the next morning. We could settle the terms of repayment later. Exhausted, we collapsed in bed, after trying endlessly to reach Diane or anyone at the loan company. For several hours, then days, we waited for Grandpa Dave to return our messages. He called a week later, like nothing had happened, chatting away about future fishing trips. To this day, I have yet to forgive him for demeaning and hurting my husband so deeply.In the meantime, our agent scrambled to buy us time to get the remaining deposit money. Two days later, the fates decided we had suffered enough and a work acquaintance of my husband's reached out and said “how much do you need and where should we meet up”? I literally almost fainted from the shock and instant release of fear and suffering. As simple as that, someone saw we desperately needed help and stepped up. Our families and closest friends offered nothing.First picture taken at our Lake Worth homeThat afternoon, we dropped off the remaining deposit money before any more mishaps crossed our paths. By the end of the week, we began moving our possessions ourselves, with the paid assistance of a few day laborers hanging out in front of the local Home Depot. Some pieces that were too heavy or could not be maneuvered down the narrow staircase, we left behind.To make this a fresh start, we spent the night at a hotel, swimming, walking to the beach, shedding months of pent-up anger, frustrations, sadness and fear. We no longer had to worry about the sounds of gunfire in the night or being attacked while taking out the trash. But we would deal with financial complications for years. Unfortunately, we had no choice but to declare bankruptcy. Multiple movings, lost deposits, thousands in medical expenses as well as the loss of our meager savings left us no other choice.In the months to follow, I spent hours calling, emailing, faxing Diane and the non-existent company she “worked” for. Only once, after we had settled into our new home, was I able to successfully contact her. To the bitter end, she claimed our application was still in processing, just waiting for a few last pieces of paperwork. I began sobbing hysterically, screaming over and over “where was the money and how could you do this to people already at rock bottom. “ She never said a word and didn't hang up. She put me on speaker phone, as I could hear the laughter and comments from fellow co-workers / scammers.We contacted the police, FBI and state attorney general seeking options to catch the scammers, before they could destroy other families. It was in the early days of the Western Union scams and the only advice we were given- don't make the same mistake twice. Give up any lost fantasies of recovering your money. By the time the recipient walked out the doors of Western Union your money was gone. An interesting observation. Every now and then I google certain names and companies. About a year ago, a small investment company in Pennsylvania, with a manager known as Diane began racking up numbers of fraud complaints with the BBB.Our story was just one of thousands. Many lost so much, their jobs, families and lives, unable to deal with the shame and consequences of being victimized. We considered ourselves relatively intelligent people. I have a PhD and my husband a MBA. We thought we did our research and that this was a legitimate solution to our financial woes. Our degrees and common sense did not prevent us from being victimized. Our desperation made us easy and willing participants.It is only due to the kindness of mere strangers that we did not end up.on the streets or worse. We still deal with the consequences of those desperate choices almost ten years later. But perhaps the greatest lessons for ourselves and our son, is the importance of reaching out to those in need, friends, family members even total strangers. Many teeter constantly on the brink of financial ruin, a flat tire, illness or temporary job loss can be catastrophic. We help whenever and wherever we see a need. Bottles of water for the homeless on hot summer days, blankets in the winter. We have anonymously paid utility bills or assisted in the payment of mortgages. Sometimes the only help we can provide is a hug or just to listen. When we hit rock bottom, we needed help. Our families looked the other way, while two almost strangers gave what they had with no strings attached.

My Bachelors degree is in Art and Architectural History with a minor in Landscape Architecture. I actually had a job out of college in my field. I very interesting job which was intellectually fascinating, but it was for a publication and when the publication went to print the editors and writers were let go. That was 1973.I saw my job options as doing gallery work , museum work or academia. Gallery work was essentially sales in a single shop. Young women were more decorative than substantive.If I was going to do museum work or academics, I would need a masters degree.It was still 1973. Vietnam was in full force. College friends were going to law school to maintain their 4F deferment as long as possible. I would see them at parties and they were talking school work and it was … interesting. As best I recall, the two guys I was closest to talked about tax and corporation a lot.It was 1973. There were things going on in Washington that started with that second rate burglary in a hotel complex, I think the name was, um, let me remember, oh yes, Watergate. A lot was on TV. Some of the people on TV were women. Young women. Young women lawyers in Dress For Success suits.And I thought, I can do that. If I am going to grad school, I’ll do law school. And I did.Nixon resigned roughly August 9, 1974. My first law class was the week before Labor Day and it was Constitutional Law. How great is that?But wait, there is more.I had an office job at that point. Basic 9–5 eye strain inducing job. I had enrolled in night school. In August,I told my bosses I was starting night law school and the assholes started with mandatory overtime. That ain’t it kid. That ain’t it.So I looked at the job board at school and found two index cards with jobs posted. One was with an insurance company’s probate department doing inventories of dead people’s safe deposit boxes and the other was with a law firm.The law firm interviewed me after 5( of necessity given the current job). The partner had green socks. His shoes were off and his feet were on the desk. He had a comb-over.I took the law clerk job and stayed for 16 years, leaving as a partner. The guy with the green socks? He’s retired in Florida but I have dinner with him when he is in Chicago.And me?I am still practicing. I have many years experience in workers compensation, a substantial time doing general liability and medical malpractice and these days insurance coverage , asbestos and hazardous waste.It’s still fun