Monday, August 1, 2016
I mentioned that my medical insurance folks try to be very helpful, but next to nobody accepts my insurance. They often send me emails or call me to urge annual checkups and mammograms and the like, and even offer incentives - like after I saw the doctor last month, I discovered a $25 gift certificate in my Amazon account, from them, for having a checkup.
So, anyway, after the past two months of medical excitement, last week something rather weird happened. I had just left the surgeon after the followup visit, was in a store looking for something to drink and munch on, and my phone rang. It was deep in my purse and I had to dig it out, and I assumed it was Daughter calling for a report, so I answered it without looking.
It was my insurance company.
The very young-sounding lady on the phone had called to urge me to get my annual checkup and mammogram, and embarked on an obviously scripted explanation of why it was so important.
I exploded. I'm afraid I was not very gracious. Probably a lot of released tension. I interrupted her and informed her that I'd had a diagnostic mammogram and ultrasound six weeks ago, had been diagnosed with breast cancer, had a slew of pre-op testing, had surgery just the week before, and had left my surgeon's office minutes ago, and I'm shocked that she didn't already know that!
This was off script, and the poor girl didn't know how to handle it.
Maybe I should feel bad, but I don't.
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