Healthcare. The word itself is an oxymoron.

Healthcare, HA Hah! More then two weeks ago I had to make an appointment to see a new hematologist. For those who don’t know and are too lazy to Google it, a hematologist is a blood doctor. I need to have a regular one because of my blood disorder, ITP. That’s the short form of a long word that will have any spell checker freaking out. While I’d rather not get into the specifics of my illness, I will say these “specialized” doctors and insurance companies have caused me, a “sick” person more negative emotions then I need right now. And same goes to those who are close to me.

First it was a doctor who wouldn’t take my check and so wouldn’t see me. To be fair, it was his nurse who turned me away because I didn’t have cash. What kind of doctor doesn’t accept checks? Those close to me and I feel something is shady about that. When I am well its something I may look into more.

Thanks to him, I would have to “waste” time until I could see a new hematologist who works for a hematology center in a hospital. She only sees new patients on Tuesdays which in short brings me to this past week. When I made my original appointment about two weeks ago, I wasn’t aware I had to have my new, separate charity care before seeing this new doctor. Logically the one I already have should work since this hospital is owned by the same administration. That would be too easy. We know the government and insurance companies can never do anything the easy way.

My thinking wasn’t tuned to theirs and hopefully never will be. I arrive for my appointment early and I wait until I’m called. When it is, my time with a social worker? didn’t last more then ten minutes. Without approval on the new charity care I knew I’d get, I couldn’t be seen by the doctor. I had to explain how almost critical my health situation is. Either sympathizing or taking pity on me, she said she would speak to the doctor. While I’m explaining this to my parents for a few minutes, the social worker would return to tell me that without my “insurance” I’d have to reschedule my appointment. Which I have for next Tuesday afternoon. In the meantime the doctor will look over my new medical records. That’s the positive, because 3 days ago while I was at the hospital, there were no positive feelings. I really wish I had written this entry then. Because it would have been have one of the rare times you would see my dark side. lol

After rescheduling and while I was fuming I had to try to go see about applying for new charity care. Sounds easy right? Remember this is the government and the insurance companies we’re talking about. In order to even speak to someone about applying, you have to make an appointment. For some dumb, stupid (how kiddiesh of me) reason, you can’t have an appointment with patient services the same day you have a doctor’s appointment. Technically I no longer had an appointment. This doesn’t matter to them. I had to make an appointment with patient services for the following morning. Which again is stupid. I’m already there, why can’t I just settle this now? How busy can patient services be at 3:30 PM? Now I had to take my “sick” self back there.

Again, this is not racially motivated, a black receptionist, (I only said her skin color in this case because I think her thinking of my situation was stereotypical. Don’t give me that we’re all people, we’re all the same. We can all be Americans and still have different types of “cultures,” depending on our upbringing and at least where we’re from) is telling me step by step what I need to do when I come back and if I have an emergency step by step how they (the hospital) will take care of me. Even telling me at a mile a minute how they’ll get me a wheel chair. Shut up! Like I wasn’t nervous enough going to the hospital that day. That’s really what this part comes down to, how people I don’t need to comfort me are trying to.

The following day was a lot better given the situation. I returned to the hospital, met with someone from patient services, and was approved for my new charity care. The only thing I could have ranted about is how even though I’m approved, the way the document words it, I’m denied until my appointment day. This is when I’ll pick up another document (actually, just a carbon copy of the original) from the same person in patient services. Confused? Yeah me too.

Now we’re all hoping as of Tuesday, November 1, 2005 I’ll be able to be treated as an outpatient. My health (hopefully not the insurance stuff so much) is an ongoing “thing.” At this time it feels more like an inconvience then anything else. While it ain’t fun, reading about those around me (these outsiders) could be. Like crazy, blamed my mom for moving her stuff when my mom didn’t lady. This is why I gotta to try to write these posts on the same day as this crap happens.

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