Not my best day

Let the hormone surges begin!

It started with me crying on the phone this morning talking to the insurance lady. Well, technically I was already a little fired up from hashing out my hospital bill with the hospital billing department. I was polite with her, but firm. I just needed someone to tell me why a bag of i.v. fluids cost $900 and something bucks. Are you kidding me?! ONE bag. I didn't say it aloud, but I did wonder what is in that bag...the elixir of life or something? And that's just the fluids - they charge you separately for the bag and "equipment." I assume that means the needle and the hangy harness thingy. I think it might just be cheaper to bring my own in the future!

And that's not nearly all they billed. Did you know it costs more than $700 to wrap two belts around your belly and run a printout of your fetus' heart rate? That machine must have been fancier than it looked. If I'd known what I'd be paying for it, I would have asked to keep the printout so I could at least have had something concrete to enjoy. And don't get me started on the urinalysis. Can anyone honestly tell me with a straight face that we don't need healthcare reform that includes the regulation of fees that doctors and hospitals are allowed to charge? Yes, I understand that they have to raise their fees because they know they're only getting a percentage of that paid for by the insurance company, but really - if I didn't have insurance, those 3 hours of non-invasive care would have put me in serious financial jeopardy. And I haven't even delivered this kid yet!

Whatever.

So then I talk to the insurance company because I wanted to know why it wasn't being billed as an emergency room copay (as the insurance company assured me it would be when I called to confirm before I went in for care) and was instead being billed as co-insurance for outpatient care. The woman was flat-out belligerent with me. Actually, her attitude could be more accurately described with another "b" word, but even I'm not hormonal enough to tell her that. Instead, I politely asked her (through tears) why she was being so "defensive" (nicest, least confrontational word I could think of) with me when I was just trying to ascertain why the bill was being handled this way. She assured me she wasn't being defensive, but I would love to get my hands on the recording of that conversation. She was a jerk from the very first minute when they had an address for us that was over a year and a half old. "So, you want me to change it??" (P.S. - I have been getting statements from them for over a year at the new address and even changed the address with this department when I called a few weeks ago when I was being sent in to the hospital.) That was even before she knew what my freaking call was about. If I hadn't been such a mess, I would have asked to speak with her supervisor. Tormenting an almost-40 week pregnant woman. Good grief.

Then I decided to swim laps today and got stuck in the lap next to "splashy guy." Have you ever swum next to this guy? Every time (every time!) he would take a stroke with his right arm, he would bring it down - kapow! - on the pool surface and spew water in every direction. Just with his right arm, but every single stroke. When I would be swimming next to him, it just felt like I was getting rained on. However, depending on which direction I was swimming, I would often get a face- and mouthful of water whenever I turned my head to breathe. I was seething. He's just lucky there wasn't a large, blunt object lying by the pool because I just might have used it. So, just when my rage is peaking (I don't think it should be "piquing" here, but I'm willing to be told otherwise), we end up at the same end of the pool at the same time and he asks me when my baby is due, if I'm having contractions (since I'm due tomorrow!), congrats and good luck and all that.

Well, at that point the rage just leaked out. It was hard to be livid at him once I saw his face and heard his voice. Sometimes it just works like that. So I tried to love him, goofy arm and all.

According to my small group assignment for this week, I'm supposed to be thanking God every day this week for the things in my life that bring me joy (we're doing a study on the fruits of the spirit). Today is the first day: I don't think I'm off to a very good start, do you??