Tuesday, May 25, 2010

And you think there is nothing wrong with our health care system?

Okay. So I need to rant here for a bit. If you don't want to hear it, don't say you weren't forewarned.

Firstly, I am incredibly fortunate to have insurance. I realize this and I am not whining about that.  I am merely expressing my frustration with a backwards-ass system.

I only have one medical issue that tends to require any kind of care, and that's my allergy shots. Because allergies are a pre-existing condition (I came out of the womb sneezing), and my deductible is so high I don't even want to talk about it, I pay a lot out of pocket. My insurance covers 42 cents of my weekly $20 shot at the clinic. Though, I find it worth the trade off as I can now walk outside in the spring and not burst into hives.  Moving on.

I decided, for the sake of geographical convenience and better time management, that I would start getting my shots at my regular doctor's office where I can make an appointment and not have to wait in line behind screaming children. Here was the conversation when I called them, attempting to set everything up.

Me: So how much will it cost to get my shot each week?

Receptionist: How much is your copay again?

Me: It's kind of high, it's $40, but is there a flat rate I can pay just to receive a shot from one of your nurses?

Receptionist: Yes, the flat rate is $20, but since you have insurance we are required to collect your copay. It's in our contract with all of the insurance companies that we must do that.

Me: So you're saying that even though it costs $20 to receive the shot, I have to pay $40 each week because I have insurance? I have to pay twice as much?

Receptionist: Yes. It's in our contract with the insurance companies. We can only give the flat rate to people who aren't insured. It's a binding contract, and that is what we are required to do by law.

Me: Okay, well I will not be doing that. Thank you for clarifying. Bye.

So there you have it. Thanks First Health!

Friday, May 14, 2010

Rainy Day Blues

Well friends, it's storm season in Oklahoma, which means I'm just going to have to deal with the heavens waking me and our dogs* up at 3:00 a.m. on a regular basis, and be prepared for all four of us (don't forget about Joel the sleeping rock) to cram ourselves into the guest tub beneath a mattress. Thankfully, we've yet to resort to this.

To add fuel to that bummer of a fire, I realize my last post was around Easter.I don't know how that makes the ten or so of you that may actually read this blog feel, but I don't like it. And I'm going to assume that you don't either so that, if nothing else, I might be inspired to continue writing on a  regular basis. 

In fact, I'm going to start right now, with a story.

We have these crazy neighbors who have crazy dogs to match. They have  reiterated to us many more times than necessary, how even though said canines sound viscious, they really are just the sweetest things. I am unsure.  Regardless, because Princess and Buttercup (not made up names) incite our dogs to a 13 on a scale of 1-10, I usually herd them inside as soon as the barking begins. My dogs usually comply.

Now I don't know if if was a squirrel teetering on the fence between yards or what, but a couple of nights ago Scout and Eddie were resisting. I hear our neighbor screaming at his dogs to GO POTTY NOW! I hear the barking start, I manage to get Scout inside, and I realize if i don't shut the door behind me right this second she will  leap back outside continue securing the perimiter of the yard. With no time to grab the door knob, I grab it by its jamb, pull hard, and fail to fully remove my hand before it SLAMS SHUT ON MY MIDLE FINGER.

I get Eddie inside before I look down and realize it looks like I have a purple grape atop my middle finger, which is now larger than my thumb. I stare for a few more minutes, realizing the stupidity of what I had just done, then immediately burst into tears because I have obviously broken my finger.  It's almost as bad as the time I stepped on a cave cricket while barefoot and thought that I had surely been bitten by a brown recluse. Three ibuprofin, two hours, and one ice pack later, and Joel reassuring me that if I can still move it, it's not broken, I had calmed down and forgiven the dogs. Today, I back to typing 80 words per minute.

Next time, however, I am just letting them bark.




*Yes,we have rescued yet another dog, Eddie, who I promise I will post some pictures of later, that will be seemlessly incorporated into a post where I guilt you about not adopting your next pet from a shelter. So you can look forward to that.