So much of the insurance-getting process has felt like the college application process. The interminable form with "optional" essay portions, the sense that one's destiny is being handed over to nameless, faceless, soul-less beasts, and finally the constant checking of the mail.
Two days ago, I got my envelope from insurance company #2. And just as if it were from a college, I looked at it, and could tell by the fact that it was a thin letter envelope, and not a thick 9x12 one, that the news wasn't good. People, they rejected me. What's worse, they rejected me based on incorrect information. They said that I have "a history of removal of left breast fibroadenoma and no followup tests". Now come on, soul-less beasts, info about my follow-up tests is freely available on the interweb. (Also, soul-less beasts, it's 'follow-up', not 'followup'; when providing your reasons for ruining someone's dreams of an affordable Pap smear, don't be afraid to crack open a dictionary, mmm-kay?)
I have two favorite parts of the letter, other than the spelling error. One is the phrase "history of removal of left breast fibroadenoma", like I drop into the surgeon's office every few months and get someone to slice open my left boob and hunt up some lumps. Second is this sentence: "As you may already be aware, we are unable to offer you coverage." They didn't call me about this, and in fact, refuse to discuss it over the phone (even to tell me what, specifically, the doctor's office needs to provide to refute this). My status online didn't change. There is no way that I would have known, unless of course, they mean that clearly I am too disease-ridden to expect any sane company to insure me.
On what is most likely a related note, I had a dream the night before last in which I was trying to plan a storytime on death and dying, but was getting frustrated because I couldn't find the fun ones. I'm sure there's an opportunity for analysis there, but without insurance, how will I ever find out?
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