Motivation is lacking

I've been really sick with stomach flu the last couple of days, coming off about a week of not feeling right and being unmotivated. I'm still eating (mostly) as I should and keeping the food diary, but I cancelled the exercise physiologist appointment I was supposed to have on Wednesday. I don't need to see him every two weeks, and frankly, can't afford all the copays. It also looks as though insurance isn't going to cover the complete psych eval--"no insurance company ever covers the written report fee", the office person told me. Someone was supposed to call today about it and hasn't. I see the nutritionist again the following week. I just feel like I'm marking time for nothing in particular, waiting for this all to gel, and what if it doesn't? I don't see how my household can function without my income for as long as this is all going to take to happen, and the news isn't good anywhere when it comes to the economy.

The awful truth

This is a typical occurrence following every. single. bloody. appointment. I've had thus far:

1) Letter from husband's insurance comes in the mail. Letter says as far as they know I have my own health insurance and to please provide them with further information. (I have called them and provided them with said information at least eight or nine times, and they have been covering my prescriptions without a question since last June, when my own health insurance was no more.)

2) I call the insurance company. I try not to be pissy and probably fail in tone of voice, but say please and thank you and have all my information conveniently at hand. I have to speak slowly and clearly into the clown's mouth to get routed to the proper agent, who may or may not route me to one or more agents or divisions, who may feign surprise, make reassuring yet noncommittal sounds I am convinced they send them to training specifically to learn, apologize, or not. It's a white-knuckle rollercoaster ride of fun and frolic, let me tell you! (Is this kind of unbridled excitement why people love to gamble? I like my money too much to ever let go of it long enough to find out.) I always wonder if I'm *really* being recorded or monitored for quality assurance.

3) Every single solitary time the claim I am calling about has been a covered service. I don't go to out-of-network providers; at least 95% of the time I check ahead of time that things are going to be covered.

Today's wrinkle is that they are trying to bill me for the psych eval that they required prior to this surgery. I specifically went to the only provider they covered at the wellness center because he was the one they covered; if I'd had my choice, I would have gone to a female practitioner, because that's just the way I roll.

So I call the behavioral/mental health division and tell them what's up. They tell me it's a medical claim because it's relating to the bariatric surgery. They also try to tell me the provider isn't in network, and I cut them off at the pass. They transfer me to the medical division.

The medical division listens to the situation and tries to send me back to behavioral/mental health and I say no, this evaluation was ONLY performed because it was a required step prior to bariatric surgery. They hem and haw, put me on hold to research it, and then come back on and say they will have to research it further and then call me back. So now I get to wait for them to call me back.

(Fittingly, I bought a copy of Michael Moore's movie "Sicko" the other day; I am a big fan of his films in general, but have a feeling this one's going to be my favorite. I will never forget when he had his TV show "The Awful Truth" on Bravo--the most memorable episode for me featured a man--the father of a small child, and he may have been her only surviving parent, if I recall correctly--whose health insurance provider refused to pay for an organ transplant that would save the man's life. Moore staged an elaborate mock funeral for the man on the lawn of corporate headquarters, complete with casket, pallbearers, the works. Following this, the insurance company paid for the gentleman's transplant.)

How I can end up spending the better part of a day on the phone with insurance and the doctor's office

The past week has been incredibly frustrating. I was turned down for three of the five jobs I'd applied for; I didn't hear anything on the other two. My sleep continues to be on and off, which can make a person a little crazy all by itself. I tried to force sleep a couple of nights by taking two Benadryl, which resulted in grogginess the entire day after and still waking up every couple of hours. I took a generic version of Unisom tonight and was (am) up after 2 hours.

My primary-care doctor is about three hours away and so I conduct a lot of business with her via e-mail. My husband's insurance has been hounding me to get all my medications via their mail-order program, so I have been trying to transition them all. There are seven or eight of them. The health insurance took so long to process the initial switch that I ran out of everything for several days, requiring several frantic phone calls back and forth with insurance and the doctor's office, paying almost $20 to have overnight delivery, etc., and after all that neither my antidepressant nor my sleep medication were included. I've emailed my doctor two or three times in the last couple of weeks to have those things transitioned as well. Of course, the emails were never answered and I found myself playing the call-everyone-involved-two-or-three-times game a couple of days ago to try to get those medications transferred to the mail order pharmacy program before I ran out of them, having to request expensive overnight delivery again. My doctor and I have had a long-standing relationship, and she has never had a problem changing a medication for me. Unfortunately, I think her staff is getting their signals crossed now; I haven't had any direct communication with her at all on this issue, and after thinking all was said and done and the medications were ordered, I get a call yesterday from her staff saying I had never gotten the new sleep medication from her previously and that they were just going to discard the request from insurance to fill it--because insurance had referred to it as "a refill". (I had made it clear to insurance that it was a new medication.) Of course, this was left on my voicemail at home while I was out; of course, I received it after their office had been closed on Friday afternoon; and of course, they acted annoyed, like I was trying to put something shady past them, sounding rather indignant with me on the message they left. And of COURSE, the sleep medication is the one being disputed.

Doubly frustrating is the fact that I tried repeatedly to get the fax number for the doctor to send a request for the new medication to insurance, but insurance would not give it to me, preferring instead to fax something to the doctor and have her fax it back to them. If they had simply given me their fax number in the first place, I seriously doubt this would have played out the way it did. I left a frustrated message on the doctor's office voicemail in which I doubtless sound like a total freaking loon, telling the entire story for what felt like the 500th time and trying desperately to say the right polite words at proper intervals.

"How do you not go mental?" a friend asked me not long ago. I chuckled somewhat ruefully; I think it's too late to refer to it as "going" mental at this point.