This time last week I had pretty much gotten over the surgical intervention I underwent the previous Wednesday. I'm not so sanguine about the outcome of the next encounter.
I underwent a stent emplacement in my left thigh because I had a 95% arterial blockage plaguing me for an indeterminate amount of time (I say for years but I don't have letters after my name unless b.o.z.o. are short for something). I had none of the hard work or heavy lifting as some amazing people made short work of a problem they assured me was 'routine.' Not for me.
And seemingly not for my insurance carrier who shared via letter yesterday they are not authorizing inpatient treatment or surgery, of a procedure that has now happened ten days ago. "It appears the procedure and the post-operative care of your condition could be safely performed in a less acute setting..." I think that's 2012 insurancespeak for 'payment is a matter between the physician and the patient.' I may yet learn the truth of physician heal thyself.
I am supposed to see him this Friday so he can see for himself the progress and explain the next steps in the recovery journey. I now imagine I'll be getting in a lot of steps patrolling roadsides for discarded bottles and cans to redeem the deposit. I don't think I've ever seen a coin operated scalpel before but I'll bet I shall in the real immediate future.
I was teasing people last week I hoped to be healed in time for the fall auditions of So You Think You Can Dance. I suspect I'll be soft-shoeing for whichever network has the show with the biggest cash prizes. I can't hardly wait to find out what it will cost me to have worn a gown with no back for a day and a half in a building full of strangers and nowhere else to look. I'm happy I didn't catch cold-the insurance probably wouldn't pay for that either unless the remedy is homeopathic.