Monday, August 16, 2021

Not Listening

Inspirational song: Working in a Coal Mine (Devo)

When I say I hate phone calls, I'm absolutely not kidding. When I enunciated very clearly that phone calls give me anxiety attacks that leave me depleted for days, and some are so bad, I can't do them for years (two and a half years in the particular one under discussion), it was rather infuriating to have that discounted and steamrolled over. I'm still on edge over my experience this afternoon, with someone who is in other ways helping me, who didn't listen, even when I had a full-blown panic attack and disconnected the call she was forcing me to do when I already told her I was under sensory overload before we started. "How are you doing in general," she asked, and then ignored me when I said that being off my meds for surgery is causing me incredible stress and pain.

Even though I skipped the worst call, I did power through the one to the insurance customer service (one rep and one manager), and got promising clarification on that bill I complained about last week. It's not resolved yet, but I have a better idea what the path forward actually is now. I should be able to get the bills covered, except for one standard copay. But damn, it would be a lot easier if I wasn't burning up with inflammation and lightheadedness.

Speaking of meds, once I was done with the awful calls I went by the pharmacy to discover what had been called in for me. Turns out it was the pain meds ordered by the plastic surgeon for Friday. I was a little worried that it would be a repeat of last surgery ("Who thought 800mg motrin was appropriate for surgical recovery, when I'm on a twice-daily prescription NSAID already??") Luckily it was a more useful scrip. And my total charge was 68 cents. Seriously. I don't quite know how to feel about that. I think health care costs are ludicrous in this country, but that's awful damned cheap for real painkillers that ought to be offered with caution.

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