Thursday, October 26, 2006
Taking Away my Eyelash Glue is Keeping America Safe
I had heard that the airlines were being a bit more lax regarding how many fluids, gels, creams and goops one can take on a plane, so I was not terribly paranoid about packing my makeup in my carry-on bag.
As I stood in line for the security screening, an airline employee held up a one-quart plastic baggie to demonstrate how many liquids can be taken on a plane. "No more than three ounces of any particular substance," she said. "If your drink is more than three ounces, you cannot take it on the plane." I don't know of anyone who would carry a drink smaller than three ounces. "If what you have does not fit into a ziplock baggie, you cannot take it on the plane."
When I got up to the security gate, I decided to risk wearing my hoodie and scarf instead of taking them off with my jacket. (I've gained some weight recently and am feeling blobby.) My carry-on fluids, gels, creams and goops would fit easily in a ziplock baggie.
I got through the screening, only to have my bag searched--it turns out that not only must your fluids, gels, creams and goops fit into a ziplock baggie, but you must have the ACTUAL BAGGIE. So I watched as many dollars' worth of cosmetics got confiscated. The airline screener tucked my lashes back into my makeup bag, but kept the glue that I need to hold them on. My foundation, eyeliner and two lip glosses (one of them was Clinique, which is the real bummer) were likewise confiscated. She explained to me that I could put them in one of my carry-on bags and check it through.
You mean my open-top striped half-tote, or the library's laptop case?
America, you may rest easy and feel more secure in our fight against terrorism knowing that I will spend the weekend at my library conference in Nashville looking ugly.
As I stood in line for the security screening, an airline employee held up a one-quart plastic baggie to demonstrate how many liquids can be taken on a plane. "No more than three ounces of any particular substance," she said. "If your drink is more than three ounces, you cannot take it on the plane." I don't know of anyone who would carry a drink smaller than three ounces. "If what you have does not fit into a ziplock baggie, you cannot take it on the plane."
When I got up to the security gate, I decided to risk wearing my hoodie and scarf instead of taking them off with my jacket. (I've gained some weight recently and am feeling blobby.) My carry-on fluids, gels, creams and goops would fit easily in a ziplock baggie.
I got through the screening, only to have my bag searched--it turns out that not only must your fluids, gels, creams and goops fit into a ziplock baggie, but you must have the ACTUAL BAGGIE. So I watched as many dollars' worth of cosmetics got confiscated. The airline screener tucked my lashes back into my makeup bag, but kept the glue that I need to hold them on. My foundation, eyeliner and two lip glosses (one of them was Clinique, which is the real bummer) were likewise confiscated. She explained to me that I could put them in one of my carry-on bags and check it through.
You mean my open-top striped half-tote, or the library's laptop case?
America, you may rest easy and feel more secure in our fight against terrorism knowing that I will spend the weekend at my library conference in Nashville looking ugly.
Labels: airlines, airport, conference, library, makeup, Nashville, terrorism
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
F*CK Insurance: a long, boring rant nobody wants to read
Firstly, I am honestly grateful that I even have health insurance, don't get me wrong. If I didn't have reasonably good health coverage, I would not be able to pay my bills and would probably have ended up moving back in with Mom and Skippy, who, while they love me--and I them, would drive me completely stark raving bonkers within a week.
I was notified in mid-September that the hospital with which my primary care doctor's office was affiliated, has decided to pull out of my insurance plan, which meant that I was going to have to choose a new primary care physician. I was not able to act on matters immediately, what with jury duty, trips, a conference, and generally being overwhelmed at how difficult it is to get things done when walking is so hard. Finally the insurance company indicated I would have to select someone by October 9. Not a problem, I thought. I went to the M-Care website and selected a PCP who is affiliated with the same health system as the doctor I'm seeing for my hip. A wise move, I thought.
My first visit to that office, already described here, was miserable. I ended up getting no help and was instead chastised for not having a health history on file with them. And given another prescription for an arthritis medication. I filled the prescription, then stuck it in one of the medicine cabinets at home where it will sit, unused.
A week later I decided it would be a good idea to get treatment for a nagging urinary tract infection, so I called and requested a same-day appointment. This time I saw a physician's assistant. This time the person examining me seemed interested and concerned about my symptoms. This time (oh how novel) he seemed to be troubled by chest pain in a patient who has a history of breast cancer.
"Do you have bone mets?" he asked.
This is not the question I really wanted to think about. I don't have an answer, and was afraid to even think it. Breast cancer, when it metastasises, often shows up in the bones, causing bone and joint pain.
"When was your last bone scan?" he wanted to know.
My last bone scan was done before my surgery, I think in October 2003. "I've had Xrays," I said. Maybe Xrays are magically good enough.
He gave me a prescription and instructions to call the hospital for a bone scan, which I agreed to do. He also wanted to know if I was going to be seeing an oncologist. At this point I got a little upset, because I had been trying to call this new doctor's office to get a referral to see Dr. Coello, my oncologist.
When you call the main number, you are told to press 2 to speak to the referral coordinator. Well, when you press 2, you don't actually get to speak to the referral coordinator. You hear a recording which says for all new and ongoing referrals, to hang up and dial the main number, then press 5 to leave a message for a physician. So I hung up, dialed the main number, pressed five, and when I tried to explain to the receptionist that I was having trouble getting a referral, she said, "Hold on," and then transferred my call. She transferred me to the referral coordinator's line, where I got to hear the message instructing me to hang up and dial the main number.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
I finally spoke to the receptionist and explained that transferring me wasn't helping, so she said, "Let me take a message and I'll give it to the referral coordinator." I am unconvinced that it went anywhere.
When I described this to the PAC seeing me that day, he got really disgusted and said that sort of thing shouldn't happen. He also told me that I would not be able to get a referral to see the person I have been seeing for the last two years, because Oakwood has oncologists on staff. My choices are:
Friday I went to see Dr. Coello, and when the lady at the front desk asked me for my referral, I completely lost it. I haltingly told her that I had been able to get one, and spent the next ten minutes weeping in their waiting room. They decided to let me see the doctor and wrangle the payment issue later. When I told him about the insurance issue, he was annoyed, but reassured me that his care of me was more or less a technicality now, since the chances of anything have spread are so remote as to be nearly impossible. He then wanted to know about my hip and chest pain, and suggested a "myotherapist" in Southfield who helped him with sciatic pain a few years ago. It really works, he claimed. It isn't covered by insurance, but it will be like a miracle.
Then he concluded that my chest pain was related to arthritis, and prescribed a coritcosterioid. I felt slightly better over the weekend; although the corticosteroid didn't seem to help with my chest, it made walking a little easier.
Monday as I was driving to work, I started having difficulty breathing normally. I can not take deep breaths because of the chest pain. I called and left a message for Dr. Coello. After looking at several alarming websites about potential causes of chest pain and shortness of breath (congenital heart failure, or maybe asthma. Maybe a blood clot. Or maybe severe anxiety), I called the primary care place to come in to see someone again, rather than waiting for the appointment which was scheduled for Tuesday.
I was given an appointment with the doctor I saw the first time I went there. As I was sitting in the waiting room, I noticed that well over half the patients consisted of unwed teen mothers and pregnant fifteen year olds.
The doctor was surprised I was still in pain and insisted it was musculo-skeletal. She listened to my lungs and got irked that I would not take deep breaths. She wanted to know why my paperwork had not been transferred yet, and told me that she couldn't do anything. "I am here only to help those people with sore throats and urinary tract infections and things like that they'd go to the emergency room for."
Silly me. Chest pain and shortness of breath is obviously not an emergency condition.
So I asked what I can do about "musculoskeletal pain" if anti-inflammatories have not helped. "Are you just going to prescribe another arthritis medication that doesn't work?" She came back with a prescription for Tylenol 3 (it does help with my hip, but not so much for the chest pain) and spent the last five minutes of my appointment repeatedly telling me to transfer my paperwork, keep my appointments, and see one of the doctors who is going to be at this facility longer than she will.
"Do you understand? Do you understand me?"
Good god. Don't speak to me like I'm an idiot; I comprehend that you are a patronizing [insert derogatory term here], have no interest in or ability to help me, and coming to this office at all is a complete waste of my time. These people are more concerned about paperwork than in dealing with somebody who has current problems. I understand wanting a health history, but how does the fact that you don't have information about every bladder infection I've ever had keep you from attempting to address what is wrong now?
Yesterday I got a call from Dr. Coello, who is very concerned that the medication he prescribed didn't help.He was surprised that the insurance switch has already happened; nobody told him on Friday. He wants to help me find an oncologist in this area and asked me to read off some names for him. It is important that I get a bone scan.
I am rather freaked out about the specialist being worried.
He is going to send his records to the PAC who prescribed my upcoming bone scan; I'm not sure I'll necessarily be going back there. They're used to dealing with knocked-up teenagers and wheezy old people; I don't want to go there EVER AGAIN.
Tomorrow I will ask the pain dude in Canton if he could recommend any of the people at his facility, or if he's familiar or could ask around about any of the oncologists on my list.
Also, F*CK Oakwood. My other primary care physician's office didn't refuse to give me referrals to out-of-network doctors. That's probably why they're no longer part of my bloody insurance plan.
I was notified in mid-September that the hospital with which my primary care doctor's office was affiliated, has decided to pull out of my insurance plan, which meant that I was going to have to choose a new primary care physician. I was not able to act on matters immediately, what with jury duty, trips, a conference, and generally being overwhelmed at how difficult it is to get things done when walking is so hard. Finally the insurance company indicated I would have to select someone by October 9. Not a problem, I thought. I went to the M-Care website and selected a PCP who is affiliated with the same health system as the doctor I'm seeing for my hip. A wise move, I thought.
My first visit to that office, already described here, was miserable. I ended up getting no help and was instead chastised for not having a health history on file with them. And given another prescription for an arthritis medication. I filled the prescription, then stuck it in one of the medicine cabinets at home where it will sit, unused.
A week later I decided it would be a good idea to get treatment for a nagging urinary tract infection, so I called and requested a same-day appointment. This time I saw a physician's assistant. This time the person examining me seemed interested and concerned about my symptoms. This time (oh how novel) he seemed to be troubled by chest pain in a patient who has a history of breast cancer.
"Do you have bone mets?" he asked.
This is not the question I really wanted to think about. I don't have an answer, and was afraid to even think it. Breast cancer, when it metastasises, often shows up in the bones, causing bone and joint pain.
"When was your last bone scan?" he wanted to know.
My last bone scan was done before my surgery, I think in October 2003. "I've had Xrays," I said. Maybe Xrays are magically good enough.
He gave me a prescription and instructions to call the hospital for a bone scan, which I agreed to do. He also wanted to know if I was going to be seeing an oncologist. At this point I got a little upset, because I had been trying to call this new doctor's office to get a referral to see Dr. Coello, my oncologist.
When you call the main number, you are told to press 2 to speak to the referral coordinator. Well, when you press 2, you don't actually get to speak to the referral coordinator. You hear a recording which says for all new and ongoing referrals, to hang up and dial the main number, then press 5 to leave a message for a physician. So I hung up, dialed the main number, pressed five, and when I tried to explain to the receptionist that I was having trouble getting a referral, she said, "Hold on," and then transferred my call. She transferred me to the referral coordinator's line, where I got to hear the message instructing me to hang up and dial the main number.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
I finally spoke to the receptionist and explained that transferring me wasn't helping, so she said, "Let me take a message and I'll give it to the referral coordinator." I am unconvinced that it went anywhere.
When I described this to the PAC seeing me that day, he got really disgusted and said that sort of thing shouldn't happen. He also told me that I would not be able to get a referral to see the person I have been seeing for the last two years, because Oakwood has oncologists on staff. My choices are:
- find a different PCP who is part of the same network as my current oncologist
- find a totally new oncologist who doesn't know me
- pay exorbitantly to continue seeing someone without authorization; hope that it's not too expensive
Friday I went to see Dr. Coello, and when the lady at the front desk asked me for my referral, I completely lost it. I haltingly told her that I had been able to get one, and spent the next ten minutes weeping in their waiting room. They decided to let me see the doctor and wrangle the payment issue later. When I told him about the insurance issue, he was annoyed, but reassured me that his care of me was more or less a technicality now, since the chances of anything have spread are so remote as to be nearly impossible. He then wanted to know about my hip and chest pain, and suggested a "myotherapist" in Southfield who helped him with sciatic pain a few years ago. It really works, he claimed. It isn't covered by insurance, but it will be like a miracle.
Then he concluded that my chest pain was related to arthritis, and prescribed a coritcosterioid. I felt slightly better over the weekend; although the corticosteroid didn't seem to help with my chest, it made walking a little easier.
Monday as I was driving to work, I started having difficulty breathing normally. I can not take deep breaths because of the chest pain. I called and left a message for Dr. Coello. After looking at several alarming websites about potential causes of chest pain and shortness of breath (congenital heart failure, or maybe asthma. Maybe a blood clot. Or maybe severe anxiety), I called the primary care place to come in to see someone again, rather than waiting for the appointment which was scheduled for Tuesday.
I was given an appointment with the doctor I saw the first time I went there. As I was sitting in the waiting room, I noticed that well over half the patients consisted of unwed teen mothers and pregnant fifteen year olds.
The doctor was surprised I was still in pain and insisted it was musculo-skeletal. She listened to my lungs and got irked that I would not take deep breaths. She wanted to know why my paperwork had not been transferred yet, and told me that she couldn't do anything. "I am here only to help those people with sore throats and urinary tract infections and things like that they'd go to the emergency room for."
Silly me. Chest pain and shortness of breath is obviously not an emergency condition.
So I asked what I can do about "musculoskeletal pain" if anti-inflammatories have not helped. "Are you just going to prescribe another arthritis medication that doesn't work?" She came back with a prescription for Tylenol 3 (it does help with my hip, but not so much for the chest pain) and spent the last five minutes of my appointment repeatedly telling me to transfer my paperwork, keep my appointments, and see one of the doctors who is going to be at this facility longer than she will.
"Do you understand? Do you understand me?"
Good god. Don't speak to me like I'm an idiot; I comprehend that you are a patronizing [insert derogatory term here], have no interest in or ability to help me, and coming to this office at all is a complete waste of my time. These people are more concerned about paperwork than in dealing with somebody who has current problems. I understand wanting a health history, but how does the fact that you don't have information about every bladder infection I've ever had keep you from attempting to address what is wrong now?
Yesterday I got a call from Dr. Coello, who is very concerned that the medication he prescribed didn't help.He was surprised that the insurance switch has already happened; nobody told him on Friday. He wants to help me find an oncologist in this area and asked me to read off some names for him. It is important that I get a bone scan.
I am rather freaked out about the specialist being worried.
He is going to send his records to the PAC who prescribed my upcoming bone scan; I'm not sure I'll necessarily be going back there. They're used to dealing with knocked-up teenagers and wheezy old people; I don't want to go there EVER AGAIN.
Tomorrow I will ask the pain dude in Canton if he could recommend any of the people at his facility, or if he's familiar or could ask around about any of the oncologists on my list.
Also, F*CK Oakwood. My other primary care physician's office didn't refuse to give me referrals to out-of-network doctors. That's probably why they're no longer part of my bloody insurance plan.
Labels: Bon Secours, bone scan, conference, Dr. Coello, hip, hospital, insurance, jury duty, M-Care, metastasis, Oakwood, referrals, x-rays
