So here is the dreaded 'foot' story:

Two weeks ago while coming back from lunch I twisted one ankle and sprained the other. I was wearing flat shoes so there really was no excuse for this to have happened. Unless you note that I didn't cross from the parking garage at work to our building at the cross walk.

Now a few days prior to this incident my ankle slipped a bit while wearing high heels when I stepped out of the Shrekmobile and I think that fact had me a bit scared and caused me to over correct when my ankle twisted that fateful day.

So it was like 8 million degrees outside and while carrying my drink and purse I stepped off the curb to 'twist'. My left ankle gave way while I was stepping off and I stealthy and most ballerina like made up for it by quickly putting my right foot down. And I completely rolled my ankle. Did I mention I was wearing a dress, a sleeveless dress?

There I was splayed out in the bike lane of the road and a nearby motorist asked if I was okay and I really thought I was. It hurt like all get-out but I thought it would quickly pass. It didn't. And I couldn't move either foot. So I laid there. In the bike lane. On the black, hot asphalt. One of our co-workers came upon me a moment or two later and she notified a police officer who just parked his car (I work next to the police department and next to that is the fire station).

By this time my friend Dustin Hoffman comes running across the road and I tell him I can't stand or move. I was laying my head on the curb and can you believe I didn't spill the contents of my purse and my drink was intact as well. Remember I did say ballerina like. *ahem* Dustin was concerned about me laying on the ground and kept trying to convince me to use him like a pillow to which I kept replying I was too fat to lay on him! I am always thinking of others.

I managed to pull myself to sit up upon the curb as my biscuits were blistering on that black top. And then the firemen arrived and they got me on my twisted ankle and I hopped over to the only seating near our building. Which reminds me: thank you City for removing all the seating in the parking garage due to the homeless factor. Anyways. And the whole time I had my arms around these firedudes what was I thinking?

"God, I haven't shaved my arm pits in a week!"

Then the ambulance arrives. There was talk since I hit my back, shoulders and bonked my head on the curb that they needed to get me on a back board. Oh yeah there was just no way I was going out on a back board and this was after they hopped me to the chairs. I declined the back board and felt awful so many people were coming to my aid when there were others folks that probably really needed their services.

But Tobey was working in Tampa that day and no one was volunteering to drive my putzy self to the hospital. The EMTs said I really didn't have a choice about going by ambulance since I couldn't stand at all without help and if the insurance company denies my ride I am going to tell them just that. Once at the hospital (again) I was x-rayed, diagnosed with a sprain and given some pain pills, a soft split thingie and a pair of crutches. Joy. Fat girl on crutches is not a pretty sight. Fat girl on crutches in a sleeveless dress worrying she is doing a Madonna impression? Even more so.

It took over a week for my foot to start to show the bruises and yesterday was the first day I could put a shoe on due to the swelling. Tomorrow though I will be shoeless again as my foot just swelled inside my shoe and was really puffy when I got home.

So yeah. Am I having a year or what? Are they going to name a wing in the E.R. after me for being their most repeat customer? Either that or I am just going to change my name to my childhood moniker of "Grace".

~ame

on Thursday, July 07, 2011 4 comments

Labels: hospitals

I had my post heart attackial 'echogram' today. That is what Tobey calls it. Echo. Gram. *ahem* And all went well. I had to wonder about the little female technician though and how many times a day she had to ask patients to 'lift up' their left breast so she could stick that echodohickey all around. I wonder if the majority of breasts need a lifting? I hope so.

After I was poked and prodded I was sent to the check-out area where I was told I was good to go. Without making a co-payment. But then...oh...I need to see someone from billing. Apparently my account has been 'flagged'. So I wait. And a few minutes later I get pulled to one of the tables in the waiting room - seriously, don't they have an office for this kind of thing? - and the billing rep is telling me how they have payment plans, how they take Visa and Mastercard etc.

Then she hands me a print out of my bill. $5,500. With a remaining balance of $1,500 after the insurance has paid out. Now I already asked if they had both of my insurances since the hospital long since screwed up the insurance situation. I was told they had both. And yet....only one has paid so far. Well I am not about to pay them and wait to be reimbursed. I think the billing gal felt a little silly and she said she would give me a call when she finds out what the situation with my dual insurance is. You can imagine how much I am looking forward to that conversation.

I then went to the lab to fill the three different doctors requests for blood tests. Now I am still IN the hospital. I hand over all of my paperwork from doctors that work within this hospital system and I get told that the hospital lab doesn't accept any of my insurances. They don't take Cigna or Blue Cross - two of the biggest insurance companies available.....

I was then told that I could still get my blood drawn there but I would have to sign a waiver and then they would bill me for the procedures and tests. I hope I looked at them like they were idiots when I told them no thanks because that is exactly why I have insurance: so I don't have to pay for anything. They kept insisiting and I kept resisting and finally I snatched back my lab paperwork and told them I would go to my normal lab. And they wanted to know where that was at and which lab I was going to. Like that is their business. But I told them and then they asked if I needed directions - er no - I already told you I would take it to the place I normally go to.

Idiots.

I arrived at the lab only to find them in the midst of what appeared to be going out of business. The once nicely decorated and welcoming lab was stark and the floors were filthy. The bathroom was dreadful and the floors in the drawing room looked like they hadn't been swept in months. There are illegal abortion clinics that are cleaner than this place.

But fine. The gal that was working was the one that usually draws my blood without a problem. Today though - she couldn't hit a vein to save her life. And remember how I said I had three doctors wanting blood work? 3 cbcs, 3 lipids, 3 A1cs. I assumed they would draw for one test and CC the rest of the doctors the results. Nope. They aren't allowed to do that any more for insurance puposes. Because why pay just once for a test when you can charge three times for the same thing. So there we were, not able to hit a vein and 9 tubes just waiting to get filled. And then she butterflied me - which takes for flippin' ever....

Yeah.

I need a vacation.

And a bottle of Jack.

~ame

on Thursday, May 05, 2011 4 comments

Labels: hospitals, Life