Hello to all those faithfully reading and hopefully enjoying this effort to make even the worst horror movie more watcha... aw, screw that - I'm not that good. If a movie makes you cringe because yet another batch of unlikable teens that are pushing 30 are inching toward their deaths, having a party no one does anywhere ever, a paranormal movie is boring you to tears with unending pans of empty rooms, or thanks to CGI technology when people finally bite it, their blood squirts everywhere except on the victim, the ground, the people next to them... you're in good company and this is the right place for you.

Wednesday, March 4, 2015

OH, IT DOESN'T WORK THAT WAY - APPARENTLY MISS MURDER REALLY PISSED SOMEONE OFF HIGH UP IN GOVERNMENT BECAUSE THE UNITED STATES IS TRYING TO KILL HER






Oh Sure, Reverse Everything You Told Me Yesterday

As I mentioned in my previous blog entry, I'm experiencing a life-threatening condition that needs immediate treatment <pauses for raucous laughter> but that's okay now 'cause we just got insurance (NOT Obamacare) now, right?

No problem - says the new insurance company - you just call the people you need to see, flourish your brand new laminated card at them and poof! You're cured!

WRONG.

Now this particular condition I'm dealing with is not the kind of thing you discuss with... well, anybody. That's why I typed the whole thing out - I didn't want to leave anything out and this way the doc could just read everything, ask his questions, wave his wand and then poof! I'm cured!

WRONG.


Maybe if I'd included my selfie... HEY! STOP LAUGHING!
My hubby, knowing how horrific this is for me and how in this country women aren't taken nearly as serious as men when it comes to health (he can make an appointment for me in a week as opposed to me trying and maybe getting one a month away), made the call to the right doctor and, despite having the work load of two people right now, he went through the bullshit that makes this country's care system, uh, such bullshit.

He tries to make an appointment. OH, IT DOESN'T WORK THAT WAY. They can't just see some stranger who's afraid of imminent death without previous records from her regular doctor. But the insurance people said... he can practically hear the rattling of the chick's marbles as she turns him down flat. 

He calls my regular doctor (who, if I trusted anything he said... well, let's continue) to request that the records be transferred to this new doctor. OH, IT DOESN'T WORK THAT WAY. I have to make an appointment to see MY doctor to tell HIM what's going on (which I would have done in the first place if I wanted him to know) and THEN have them transfer everything to the new doctor. Then I get to see them, right?





OH, IT DOESN'T WORK THAT WAY. Apparently, their appointments (which makes me envision all these people sitting around waiting for their turn or their deaths, whichever comes first) are at least a month out.

IF WHAT WAS HAPPENING TO ME WAS NOT IMPORTANT ENOUGH TO SEE A DOCTOR RIGHT AWAY, WOULDN'T YOU THINK I'D JUST WAIT ANYWAY?


This? Means nothing - just cheers me up...
OH, IT DOESN'T WORK THAT WAY. If you have an emergency before your appointment, rush to the nearest ER and pay out the BIG bucks, especially if after tests you have to stay in the hospital to fix what you've been trying to take care of from the beginning.

That means instead of the insurance (which the hubby pays big bucks for) covering my, uh, problem, he has to pay cash out of pocket to take care of me so I don't, you know, die.

AND THAT'S THE WAY IT WORKS.

Canada's looking pretty good right now, eh?