Let’s start with a bit of truth. Which isn’t the title. That was sarcasm. You’ll learn that most of my journaling deals with these chapters of moronic life once in a while.
My husband has been on disability for nearly a year now. He has a number of illnesses, most of which have not been fully diagnosed. Kidney disease, fatigue, thyroid problem, back problems (most attributed by two hernias and an abnormality in his lower spine) and then some. Now these are enough of a stress in anyone’s life, but on top of this he has a blood disease that thickens it and may form clots in his body. This has happened once, last October, before it was diagnosed, and resulted in a cerebral vascular incident. Thankfully, it did not do any permanent damage, but it was an uncomfortable brush.
Now I promised I would keep this blog as light as I can, but this situation is so intrinsically linked to my life that it must be part of these pages.
Now, these illnesses, we must and have dealt with. It is a daily struggle, but my husband is in every other shape and form a normal and outgoing person. It is difficult for him to stay at home, force him in a restless yet sedentary state.
The purpose of this post is to bitch, openly and fervently, at the insurance company that my husband was, by way of his work (which fired him), forced to subscribe to. If these illnesses weren’t enough, the insurance company has decided that his case needed to be scrutinized more closely. Which is fine. I get that. I do. What I don’t get is that following a visit to a third doctor, one supplied by said insurance company, it has decided to withold payment WITHOUT NOTICE until such time as the insurance company’s doctor supplies them with a full diagnosis. This visit, by the way, which obliged my husband to undergo another series in an already vast sea of tests, happened nearly 2 months ago. I thought it was important to specify this. Since, you know, it was the INSURANCE COMPANY’S DOCTOR, who by not doing HIS JOB, witheld an important part of this family’s income.
I despise this system. I despise these unfeeling beings who call themselves agents who so blithely drop obstacle after obstacle to a way of recovery. I hope, with all my being, that they are one day served a dose of their own medicine.
Okay, this is out of the way. I feel slightly better. Don’t run away now, I won’t deal this kind of thing every day.
