To apply or not to apply

Yesterday's mail brought my annual Social Security statement. Woo hoo, it's always nice to see just how little earnings I have had in the past 10 years ... not that I'm complaining, mind you, staying at home with my kids is a privilege. This spurred a conversation and some surfing about disability. My doctor told me 4 years ago to apply for it. I looked into it then and I'm pretty certain the fear of rejection is what's kept me from applying. (Mostly. I have made all sorts of excuses.) I went ahead and got the disabled parking placard last year, so I'm past the "pride" bit. The statutes and rules for disability are vague as ever, but I think there should be no denying it. If I could just send them a pic of my decrepit hands, that should do it, right? I did notice, during the conversation last night, that my left one is angling off now like the right one ... when did that happen, exactly? Tom, the guy who does my joint count at Dr. Z's asked me about the deforming last month ... was it gradual or did I just wake up one day like that. Gradual, I guess, or maybe like the left one, it just happened. I'm rambling now ... I need to just apply and get it over with.