Tuesday, May 25, 2004

Random Generators, part 2

LOOK OUT!
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Bria is a radioactive squirrel!!

Username:

From Go-Quiz.com

Wednesday, May 19, 2004

Another Denial: The Good Fight Update

I received word from my mom yesterday that the insurance company denied her request for pre-approval again, so no surgery this week. Perhaps most infuriating is that they claim there isn’t an appeal process for pre-approval—that she should go ahead and have the surgery and appeal their decision afterwards. My issues are as follows:

Item, the first: It is difficult to believe in the nonexistence of an appeal process. If pre-approval is required for non-urgent procedures, I think they are obligated to provide a process for appealing unfavorable decisions. Then again, that assumes a large measure of reason and fairness, which seem inapplicable to the insurance game.

Item, the second: This entire experience highlights the ways in which our healthcare system is lacking in integrity. Things would be just swell if everyone had the same assets and access, but falls short in our present, dingy little reality. The suggestion that she go ahead with the surgery and appeal later is laughable—this is a $40,000 procedure. If she had assets such that it didn’t really matter whether it was covered or not, the appeal probably wouldn’t matter as much. It would still be a lot of money to pay out of pocket, but not prohibitively so.

Item, the third—a continuation of the second: It’s sad that she’s probably going to end up paying a tidy sum in legal fees to prove that she’s in the right. Again, a system lacking in integrity (please hold any and all jeers at my chosen profession until the question and answer period at the end of the sermon, thankyouverymuch). You have to pay to play, and there’s no playing on your own. This simply isn’t a problem that can be solved with a little diligence and phone work (though even if it were, she’d have a tough time with the phone part). It seems pretty clear that nothing positive is going to happen without a little (big?) push to compel such action—probably in the form of little white papers wrapped in blue. Oy.

Item, the fourth: I’m uncomfortable with the fact that my mom essentially needs to prove why she deserves better hearing. People, she’s damn near deaf and she’s a professor….isn’t this pretty plainly clear? Am I just biased because it’s my moma? I think not.

This whole thing is making me think very, very seriously about patient advocacy law.

Monday, May 17, 2004

It could be worse

Oy...speaking of insurance nightmares...from the Salt Lake Tribune:

A woman's months long fight for insurance coverage to pay for skull-replacement surgery has ended after her mother's insurer agreed to pay the bill, her mother said Tuesday.

But while Briana Lane's medical problems appear to be ending, she now faces criminal charges stemming from the crash.

The 22-year-old was cited for drunken driving the night of Jan. 10, when she lost control of her Jeep on an icy canyon road near Salt Lake City. The crash sent her through the windshield and eventually to the emergency room, where doctors removed nearly half her skull to treat bleeding on her brain.

For nearly four months, Lane lived in pain without part of her skull, while the hospital and Medicaid determined who would pay for her medical bills. Eventually, the health plan of Lane's mother agreed to retroactively cover her care, costing about $200,000, and doctors replaced the skull piece April 30.

A spokeswoman for the Utah Health Sciences Center, Anne Brillinger, said any alleged wrongdoing by Lane would "absolutely not" affect her medical care.

Lane has been charged with driving under the influence and failure to have a driver license, both misdemeanors, said Roger Blaylock, an assistant district attorney with the Salt Lake County District Attorney's Office.

According to court documents, Lane's blood-alcohol content was 0.15; the legal limit is 0.08. Lane said she has been summoned to appear in Salt Lake County Justice Court.

The case summary by a sheriff's deputy stated Lane was "yelling and screaming profanity" as she was loaded into an ambulance and a "very strong odor of an alcoholic beverage" was noticeable.

Lane's driver license was expired, the deputy wrote. There were no witnesses to the accident.

Lane said Tuesday that she can't remember the night of the accident, but that an unopened beer can in her car exploded, dousing her when the Jeep rolled over.

"By the time the cops came to the accident scene I was out of control so I could see how they thought I had been drinking," Lane said.

Her license expired on her 21st birthday, she said, adding that she didn't realize that having an expired license was tantamount to having no license.

Insurance people like crazytalk

Thanks for all the kind words and thoughts about my mom. She spoke with an attorney late last week, and they have a pretty sound plan in place. The first step—which may be all that’s necessary—was to have her doctor write the insurance company a letter explaining why the procedure is medically necessary. It’s pretty damn compelling. If that doesn’t work, they’ll request an internal appeal. If that doesn’t work, they’ll file for an external appeal, where another physician of equal credentials and experience reviews her file and determines whether s/he concurs that the procedure is necessary. If all of that fails, she’ll sue. The folks at the doctor’s office seem relatively confident that there’s a good chance the surgery may still go through this week as planned. All we can do now is wait.

Thursday, May 13, 2004

Whatsa matter, chuckles?

I think I need to call people by their actual names less frequently, and use semi-condescending, generic pet names more. Pally, chief, chuckles, and lollipop are definitely in order. It’s both dismissive and twee, and I kind of like that. If you look at it that way, it’s sort of like being Republican.

Since I’m heading off to be a poor and busy law student in the fall, I’ve decided to let my hair grow out again. The last major chop from long to short was October 18, 2002, so I think it’s about time for a change. The allure of a relatively maintenance-free cut is quite attractive these days as visions of student budgets dance through my head. Plus, I’ve been with my stylist (Christopher) for over four years and I’m not too crazy about trying to find someone with decent short hair skills in A2. When my hair is long, I’ll take a $16 SuperCuts job any day, but a crappy cut when it’s short turns into 6 months of yuck faster than a fat kid can spot the cake in a room.

Do you know those girls who take forever and a day to get themselves from a Pajama State to a Ready To Leave The House State? I’m so confused by that. Maybe it was all the locker room time during my swim team years, but I’ve always been decently efficient at getting ready. Even on my slow, puttering days, I’m no match for some when it comes to distance ready-getting. What is it they do during that time? I mean, I’m pretty sure it involves lotion at some point, but the rest escapes me.

Take your policy and shove it.

Is there anything more heartbreaking than knowing that your mom is really, really sad and you’re too far away to do anything but call and email? For those who don’t know, my mom is profoundly hearing impaired and tackles the difficulties of being a university professor despite her hearing loss with a daily, Herculean effort. She has about 16% accuracy on the single-word portion of an audiogram. Recently, she met with a doctor who decided she was a perfect candidate for a cochlear implant, which would radically change her life. Everything was scheduled for next Thursday…and the insurance folks decided today they’re pulling the plug on the whole thing. “Not medically necessary,” they say. Unless the billing crew from her doc’s office can make some sort of major headway in the next few days, her choices are to a) postpone and keep lobbying, or b) pay the whole $50k herself. Makes me sick.

I don’t normally say/request things like this, but if you have a second, please send some positive thoughts in my mom’s general direction.

Tuesday, May 11, 2004

Hee. Random generators are fun.

Your Homocidal Rampage! by crash_and_burn
Your name:
Weapon of Choice:Napalm
Your Favorite Target:People named "Steve"
Your Kill Count:864,071,328
Your Battle Cry:"I got mad skillz, yo!"
Years You Spend in Jail:6
How Much Money In Damages You Cause:$116,802,020,190,618
Your Homocidal Insanity Level:: 98%
Created with the ORIGINAL MemeGen!

Monday, May 10, 2004

Color me surprised

I was a little surprised by Bush's show of support for Rumsfeld today. Seems pretty ill-advised, since this kind of kills the possibility of spinning a Rumsignation into a free-from-the-poisoned-limb celebration for the Bush camp.

My calendar tells me that as of this Friday I'll have 11 weeks left at work. I know that's starting to count down rather rapidly--and I'm happy about that--but damn if I don't want to quit in June and sit around and do sweet fuckall until school starts instead. During times like these, I lament deeply the decision to get a desktop instead of a laptop the last time they replaced my computer at work. A laptop means working from home, which I would really, really dig. I wonder how well that would work...

Fine. I know it wouldn't work. I am, however, going to attempt to stay on payroll as a consultant during the fall. Not unreasonable, and it might make the fall finances a bit nicer.

Sunday, May 09, 2004

It's my party and I'll have it if I want to.

If I have one goal for the rest of the year, it’s that I’m going to have a damned birthday party if it kills me. Last year, I had this awesome plan ready for a happy hour at my favorite pub in Houston—spent a long and agonizing week working on the guest list, carefully crafted to bring together a blend of people from the various facets of my world. The day before I was going to send out the Evite, a woman from work sent around an email inviting people to *her* birthday-happy-hour thing the weekend before mine, at the same. Damn. Pub. Given that the core of my guest list was made up of people from work who had just received the preempting email, I cancelled mine. Feh. This year.

Monster.com commercials these days—the ones where the people stand up and give their please-hire-me spiel—make me unbelievably sad.

Went to the fella’s house last night for dinner…man, can he cook. I’ve dated guys before who felt like they cooked, but they were wrong. Cereal isn’t cooking. Skillet Sensations isn’t (aren’t?) cooking if that’s the extent of one’s repertoire. No, the thing about P’s cooking that is sooo delightful is that it a) isn’t a big production number—he just moves into the kitchen and casually produces real, actual food, b) contains real ingredients in interesting combinations, c) tastes fanfuckingtastic. You have to appreciate a man whose copy of The Joy of Cooking is flagged with Post-its. Props, mad props.

Speaking of food, I’m starved. If I listen really carefully, I think I can hear a Lender’s bagel calling my name from the freezer. I should probably go see what it wants.

Monday, May 03, 2004

Life is good.

As I was walking across the parking lot of my apartment complex this morning, having just pulled in and parked after an evening furlough at Pete's house, I was struck by the truly delicious weather. It was somewhere in the upper 50s, sunny, crisp...very fragrant air. Wearing shorts and sneakers without socks, I felt like I was going off to do something active and summery--like hiking, kayaking...something more fun than work. It was wonderful, and put me in a great mood for getting ready.

Not that I'm not already in a wonderful mood. Pete can take most of the credit, for sure. It feels like everything is falling nicely into place for the foreseeable next few chapters in my life. The housing issue for the fall is working itself out neatly, thanks to a few friendly realtors and a willing summer starter with a digital camera. Various and sundry TPR dealings this summer will continue to provide a steady stream of saveable income that will help with the car issue (must sell the truck for something cheaper--need something in the line of a down payment) as well as the other millieu of expenses that are coming my way. Man, this morning I added up in my head how much extra cash I'd have laying around if I hadn't had to pay for school visits, Michigan's deposit, and my mother[sexual intercoursing] taxes. Kind of depressing...much like the depression that set in when I figured out how much I spent on applications. Gah, it's cool to know I was able to pull all of that in with little turmoil, but holy crap I'd have a nice chunk of change sitting around otherwise. Yeesh.

My thumb itches like crazy, and I don't know why.

The aforementioned Thursday kids were, as predicted, a special sort of hell. I have *never* had a group with such legion comprehension problems. Jesus tapdancing Christ...I damn near left during the break. Imagine trying to swim through a river of mud with a pair of unruly rhinos, and that's approximately the level of difficulty I had getting the point across to them. If folks don't understand, hey, that's cool...it's a bit of a conceptual mountain to climb. What really frosts my cookies is when students don't understand, get beligerent about their non-understanding, give up, and tell me the technique can't possibly work. There are definitely times when I want to announce that my ride home is waiting outside, that it's a big huff, and that I think I'll leave in it.