On this last day of the shortest month of the year, I wish you a Happy Rare Disease Day! There are thousands and thousands of unfamiliar conditions which plague millions and millions of people. The one disease near and dear to me is Mitochondrial Disease...although, it actually is NOT a rare disease. Mito affects more children than all children affected by cancer. And yet, Mito is relatively unknown.
Due to its sparse knowledge in the medical world, Mitochondrial Disease is often misdiagnosed as other conditions—chronic fatigue syndrome, fibromyalgia, depression and somatoform disorders. Years and years pass going to countless doctor appointments and enduring endless tests which often yield inconclusive results, and yet no definitive diagnosis is usually ever made. Many folks often pass away never knowing they have Mitochondrial Disease. If enough crazy symptoms present themselves requiring medical intervention, one can be classified as having Munchausen Syndrome—a mental illness in which one feigns illness and is associated with severe emotional difficulties. Nothing can be more devastating than not having the medical community believe one’s symptoms are real.
On this day of raising awareness for all rare diseases, show your support to those around you. When you hear someone has a medical condition which sounds unfamiliar and foreign, take the time to do an internet search on the illness. Find out ways to help your companion live his best life. And most importantly, be a listening ear. Navigating the medical system can be exhausting and time consuming for a healthy person, but then add on to that having a chronic illness, one can nearly be broken from gross expenditure of energy. When tears stream down a down-trodden face and sobs swell from the depths of one’s soul, offer your comfort and support. Assure the person that better days are to come; tomorrow is a new day with endless possibilities.
To all my friends with rare medical conditions, I wish you all the best. I hope each day becomes easier as you learn to cope with your chronic illness. Each day is a challenge to either let your health rule your live or to rise up and overcome your symptoms. As hard as some days may be, remember you are never alone. We are all in this fight together, and together we shall accomplish great things. May this year bring much awareness to rare diseases.
Thursday, February 28, 2019
Tuesday, February 26, 2019
Sleeping beauty tries to sleep.
I know being in the hospital, one can expect little sleep...but this story just makes me laugh. After spending all night and some of the next day in an emergency department cubicle with only a curtain for a door, I was absolutely exhausted by the time I got to my critical care unit room. I was grateful for a door on my room. However, I could never imagine so many people would visit me.
As the day progresses, an endless stream of people drift through my room—nurses, nursing assistants, respiratory therapists, food service workers, a doctor, a speech therapist, etc, etc. Finally, when the clock is nearly ten at night, I think I might have a reprieve. I try to sleep. However, my mind is overtired and cannot shut down. Around midnight, exhaustion hits me like a brick wall. I know I do not bother to sleep because I have a breathing treatment and antibiotics scheduled for midnight.
At 12:10 a.m., the respitory therapist enters my room. The treatment runs for 20 minutes. The therapist returns at 12:38 a.m. to disconnect the nebulizer. He leaves. At 1:10 a.m. my nurse enters my room to hook up some IV antibiotics. After five minutes, she leaves. At 2:20 a.m., my antibiotics are finished, and my IV machine beeps. Three minutes later, my nurse is my room with another IV antibiotic. She turns off the first antibiotic and sets up the second. She leaves around 2:35 a.m.
At 3:15 a.m., the nursing assistant wakes me up. “Time to take your vitals.” She does her job and leaves after a few minutes. At 4:10 a.m., a phlebotomist walks into my room. “Time to draw your blood.” The phlebotomist tells me the only veins he can use are the ones in my hands. I sternly tell him I have a PICC line. Draw my blood from there. He tells me he cannot do that, but my nurse can. He leaves my room and summons my nurse.
At 4:30 a.m., my nurse enters my room. She draws blood from my PICC line for my blood work and transfers the blood into several viles. She labels the viles and enters some information into her computer. After ten minutes, she leaves. At 5:47 a.m., I am abruptly woken up when my ventilator tubing accumulates water and spits it down my trach tube and into my lungs. I have a violent coughing fit. During my coughing attack, my nurse enters my room. My second IV antibiotic is finished. She disconnects the tubing and resets the IV machine.
At 6:15 a.m., a respiratory therapist is back in my room. Time for another breathing treatment. Twenty minutes pass, and the therapist returns to disconnect the nebulizer. At 7 a.m., a food service worker delivers my breakfast tray. At 7:30 a.m., the nursing assistant is back in my room to take another round of vitals. At 8 a.m., my nurse walks into my room to start another round of IV antibiotics. At 8:30 a.m., a physician’s assistant visits me.
At 9:15 a.m., my mom pocket dials me. At 9:45 a.m., my day nurse enters my room to do her shift assessment. At 10:15, two physical therapists knock on my door. Time for physical therapy. They do some exercises on my legs and have me raise up and down my shoulders. I make them do most of the work as my body is starting to shake from sleep deprivation. At 10:30 a.m., they leave. At 10:45 a.m., a food service worker knocks on my door and asks what I want for lunch. At 11 a.m., housekeeping comes and cleans my room. At 11:15 a.m., a respiratory therapist gives me another breathing treatment. At 11:30 a.m., a nursing assistant comes and takes my vital signs. At 11:40 a.m., a respiratory therapist student comes and disconnects me from the nebulizer.
At noon, my nurse returns to give me some medicine. At 12:15 p.m., my lunch tray arrives. As much as I long to sleep, I decide with the arrival of my lunch, I will give up trying to drift off to slumberland. Some day I will get some sleep...but that day is not today.
As the day progresses, an endless stream of people drift through my room—nurses, nursing assistants, respiratory therapists, food service workers, a doctor, a speech therapist, etc, etc. Finally, when the clock is nearly ten at night, I think I might have a reprieve. I try to sleep. However, my mind is overtired and cannot shut down. Around midnight, exhaustion hits me like a brick wall. I know I do not bother to sleep because I have a breathing treatment and antibiotics scheduled for midnight.
At 12:10 a.m., the respitory therapist enters my room. The treatment runs for 20 minutes. The therapist returns at 12:38 a.m. to disconnect the nebulizer. He leaves. At 1:10 a.m. my nurse enters my room to hook up some IV antibiotics. After five minutes, she leaves. At 2:20 a.m., my antibiotics are finished, and my IV machine beeps. Three minutes later, my nurse is my room with another IV antibiotic. She turns off the first antibiotic and sets up the second. She leaves around 2:35 a.m.
At 3:15 a.m., the nursing assistant wakes me up. “Time to take your vitals.” She does her job and leaves after a few minutes. At 4:10 a.m., a phlebotomist walks into my room. “Time to draw your blood.” The phlebotomist tells me the only veins he can use are the ones in my hands. I sternly tell him I have a PICC line. Draw my blood from there. He tells me he cannot do that, but my nurse can. He leaves my room and summons my nurse.
At 4:30 a.m., my nurse enters my room. She draws blood from my PICC line for my blood work and transfers the blood into several viles. She labels the viles and enters some information into her computer. After ten minutes, she leaves. At 5:47 a.m., I am abruptly woken up when my ventilator tubing accumulates water and spits it down my trach tube and into my lungs. I have a violent coughing fit. During my coughing attack, my nurse enters my room. My second IV antibiotic is finished. She disconnects the tubing and resets the IV machine.
At 6:15 a.m., a respiratory therapist is back in my room. Time for another breathing treatment. Twenty minutes pass, and the therapist returns to disconnect the nebulizer. At 7 a.m., a food service worker delivers my breakfast tray. At 7:30 a.m., the nursing assistant is back in my room to take another round of vitals. At 8 a.m., my nurse walks into my room to start another round of IV antibiotics. At 8:30 a.m., a physician’s assistant visits me.
At 9:15 a.m., my mom pocket dials me. At 9:45 a.m., my day nurse enters my room to do her shift assessment. At 10:15, two physical therapists knock on my door. Time for physical therapy. They do some exercises on my legs and have me raise up and down my shoulders. I make them do most of the work as my body is starting to shake from sleep deprivation. At 10:30 a.m., they leave. At 10:45 a.m., a food service worker knocks on my door and asks what I want for lunch. At 11 a.m., housekeeping comes and cleans my room. At 11:15 a.m., a respiratory therapist gives me another breathing treatment. At 11:30 a.m., a nursing assistant comes and takes my vital signs. At 11:40 a.m., a respiratory therapist student comes and disconnects me from the nebulizer.
At noon, my nurse returns to give me some medicine. At 12:15 p.m., my lunch tray arrives. As much as I long to sleep, I decide with the arrival of my lunch, I will give up trying to drift off to slumberland. Some day I will get some sleep...but that day is not today.
Thursday, February 21, 2019
Chicken salad. A play on words.
While visiting a new hospital, I always have one huge obstacle—FOOD! Some hospitals offer a diner style menu in which you can choose from a large selection of food items and then can call down your order any time the kitchen is open. Other hospitals offer meal options at set meal times. You have a limited choice of entrees, sides and desserts, but you have a choice nonetheless. Then there are hospitals which have preset meals. You can either have option one or option two. They only have two entrees, two sides and one dessert. There is almost no flexibility.
The hospital I find myself in is a hospital which has completely preset meals. If you cannot eat the food they are cooking for the day, you simply do not eat. With having a lot of food allergies, I do not eat processed food. Almost all processed food has corn in some form in it. I am very sensitive to corn. Corn in any derivative makes my GI tract shut down. If I eat corn, I swell up like I am nine months pregnant, am nauseas, may vomit and may develop a bowl obstruction. Henceforth, I steer far, far away from corn. (In addition to corn, I cannot eat gluten due to Celiac Disease and am anaphylactic to rice.)
Having a corn intolerance is challenging to explain to people. I am often told by folks in the food service, “Well, you can have canned fruit or a popsicle.” My reply, “You do know those have high fructose corn syrup in them.” The food worker then thinks I am trying to be difficult. Once I was even brought a popsicle still in the wrapper with the ingredients listed on the outside label. I point out to my nurse, “This is a lovely breakfast, but I can’t eat this popsicle. It has high fructose corn syrup and corn syrup as ingredients.” The nurse looks at the label and then tells me, “Those aren’t made from corn.”
Today, the food worker comes in before lunch and tells me for lunch there is a ham sandwich, French fries and noodle soup. What would I like. I say I can’t have any of the items due to my food allergies. The woman then says, “I can do a chicken salad.” I think, “Oh, great! I would love a salad, and since most processed chicken has corn and/or wheat in it, I will just pick off the chicken and eat the salad greens.” I agree to the salad and eagerly wait for a lovely plate of vegetables.
When my lunch arrives, there is a small bowl of shredded chicken mixed with some indistinguishable items in it, and everything is bound together by a miracle whip like substance. My heart sinks. “Doh! Why would I think this hospital which carries only highly processed food would actually have fresh vegetables!? Of course. When the food worker said a chicken salad she meant this small bowl of highly processed chemicals. I should have known!” I take the cup of hot water which I asked for as a beverage with my meal and slowly sip it. “Well, this will have to do for my hospital lunch.” I am thankful I brought along some food when I came to the emergency department two days ago. Although the food is kind of wonky tasting from not having been refrigerated in almost two days, I eagerly eat my food and praise God that when I am able to break free from this medical facility, there is a grocery store a short ways away full of lots and lots of fresh, non-processed food!
The hospital I find myself in is a hospital which has completely preset meals. If you cannot eat the food they are cooking for the day, you simply do not eat. With having a lot of food allergies, I do not eat processed food. Almost all processed food has corn in some form in it. I am very sensitive to corn. Corn in any derivative makes my GI tract shut down. If I eat corn, I swell up like I am nine months pregnant, am nauseas, may vomit and may develop a bowl obstruction. Henceforth, I steer far, far away from corn. (In addition to corn, I cannot eat gluten due to Celiac Disease and am anaphylactic to rice.)
Having a corn intolerance is challenging to explain to people. I am often told by folks in the food service, “Well, you can have canned fruit or a popsicle.” My reply, “You do know those have high fructose corn syrup in them.” The food worker then thinks I am trying to be difficult. Once I was even brought a popsicle still in the wrapper with the ingredients listed on the outside label. I point out to my nurse, “This is a lovely breakfast, but I can’t eat this popsicle. It has high fructose corn syrup and corn syrup as ingredients.” The nurse looks at the label and then tells me, “Those aren’t made from corn.”
Today, the food worker comes in before lunch and tells me for lunch there is a ham sandwich, French fries and noodle soup. What would I like. I say I can’t have any of the items due to my food allergies. The woman then says, “I can do a chicken salad.” I think, “Oh, great! I would love a salad, and since most processed chicken has corn and/or wheat in it, I will just pick off the chicken and eat the salad greens.” I agree to the salad and eagerly wait for a lovely plate of vegetables.
When my lunch arrives, there is a small bowl of shredded chicken mixed with some indistinguishable items in it, and everything is bound together by a miracle whip like substance. My heart sinks. “Doh! Why would I think this hospital which carries only highly processed food would actually have fresh vegetables!? Of course. When the food worker said a chicken salad she meant this small bowl of highly processed chemicals. I should have known!” I take the cup of hot water which I asked for as a beverage with my meal and slowly sip it. “Well, this will have to do for my hospital lunch.” I am thankful I brought along some food when I came to the emergency department two days ago. Although the food is kind of wonky tasting from not having been refrigerated in almost two days, I eagerly eat my food and praise God that when I am able to break free from this medical facility, there is a grocery store a short ways away full of lots and lots of fresh, non-processed food!
Tuesday, February 19, 2019
When a stumbling block becomes a blessing
A few weeks ago, I wrote about a huge financial mess I was in when my insurance denied the coverage of a drug. (Click here to link to that blog post.) The pharmacy sent out another month's worth of the prescription without ever contacting me and gaining my authorization for the medicine. I was then charged for the medication and stuck with another outrageously high medical bill.
Since receiving the medicine, I have been in an obstinate mood toward taking the drug. I did not want the medicine. I do not want to be stick with the financial responsibility of the medication. I was not going to take a medicine which I had so many bad emotions toward.
As my health has continued to decline, I began thinking about taking the medicine. I searched online to see what was the most effective way to take the medication. Was there a certain time of day to take it? Was it best to evenly space out the drug during the day or should the doses be taken close together? As I was browsing a few websites, I happened to scroll down to the bottom of the page where "contraindications" for the drug where listed. To my shock, Mitochondrial Disease was specifically mentioned. "Aminoglyocosides can cause problems with translation of the mitochondrial DNA. In patients with Mitochondrial Disease, this can lead to irreversible hearing loss, tinnitus (ringing in the ears), loss of balance, dizziness, heart damage and renal impairment which can lead to renal failure."
WOW!!! I stopped immediately and starting praising God! "Oh, thank You LORD for this HUGE financial burden. Without it, I would have never researched the drug. Without it, I may have developed some serious, irreversible health problems. I already have many medical issues. I cannot imagine adding any more to my already full plate. Thank You for Your abundant blessings, mercies and protections. Thank You for being outside time and being able to see the end from the beginning. In Jesus' precious name I pray. Amen."
Although I may have a massive medical debt from this prescription drug, it is but a drop in the bucket compared to the irreversible health impairments this drug could have caused. Although I am still stressed out about this financial burden, I am rejoicing that God put this stumbling block in front of me to help lead me to this vital information. What a blessing!
Since receiving the medicine, I have been in an obstinate mood toward taking the drug. I did not want the medicine. I do not want to be stick with the financial responsibility of the medication. I was not going to take a medicine which I had so many bad emotions toward.
As my health has continued to decline, I began thinking about taking the medicine. I searched online to see what was the most effective way to take the medication. Was there a certain time of day to take it? Was it best to evenly space out the drug during the day or should the doses be taken close together? As I was browsing a few websites, I happened to scroll down to the bottom of the page where "contraindications" for the drug where listed. To my shock, Mitochondrial Disease was specifically mentioned. "Aminoglyocosides can cause problems with translation of the mitochondrial DNA. In patients with Mitochondrial Disease, this can lead to irreversible hearing loss, tinnitus (ringing in the ears), loss of balance, dizziness, heart damage and renal impairment which can lead to renal failure."
WOW!!! I stopped immediately and starting praising God! "Oh, thank You LORD for this HUGE financial burden. Without it, I would have never researched the drug. Without it, I may have developed some serious, irreversible health problems. I already have many medical issues. I cannot imagine adding any more to my already full plate. Thank You for Your abundant blessings, mercies and protections. Thank You for being outside time and being able to see the end from the beginning. In Jesus' precious name I pray. Amen."
Although I may have a massive medical debt from this prescription drug, it is but a drop in the bucket compared to the irreversible health impairments this drug could have caused. Although I am still stressed out about this financial burden, I am rejoicing that God put this stumbling block in front of me to help lead me to this vital information. What a blessing!
Thursday, February 14, 2019
Thinning then thickening, never quite happy
All my life, I have had very thick hair. Since the eighth grade, I have been cutting my hair for Locks of Love. I get my hair cut, let it grow and then cut it off again for a hair donation. My hair is so thick, it cannot be cut off in one single pony tail. (A hairstylist once tried, and her scissors broke.) Instead, my hair has to be divided up into 4-5 sections and then cut. I am often told each one of the sections of my hair is equivalent to what an average hair donation is.
Last year, when pancreatitis was making it extremely difficult to eat and thus my weight rapidly plunged, my hair began to thin. When I brushed my hair, I often was appalled at the amount of hair which fell out. Very soon, my hair was about one quarter to one third its regular thickness. It was quite depressing having such thin hair. People still commented how pretty my hair was, but I often lamented to myself how my hair was so thin.
Since September, I have been able to eat more and started gaining weight. Very soon, my hair no longer was falling out. Over the next several months, my hair began growing back. At the beginning of this month, I noticed how thick and full my hair was. I was overjoyed it grew back, but then I started silently complaining that my hair was a wild, tangled mess again. The only way I can seem to keep it under control is by tying it in a tight bun or in a braid. (When I was growing up, my brother always teased me in the mornings before I combed my hair that I looked like Mufasa from the Lion King. My hair was a bushy lion’s mane around my face.)
So now I am happy to have my thick hair back, but I also find myself not quite happy about having to keep my hair tied tightly to prevent myself from looking like I just stepped inside from being in a violent windstorm. I keep telling myself God has richly blessed me with an abundance of hair...hair which can be grown and donated to help those who do not have hair. With that, I send up praises to God thanking Him for His loving kindness and thanking Him that my hair can be a blessing to others.
Last year, when pancreatitis was making it extremely difficult to eat and thus my weight rapidly plunged, my hair began to thin. When I brushed my hair, I often was appalled at the amount of hair which fell out. Very soon, my hair was about one quarter to one third its regular thickness. It was quite depressing having such thin hair. People still commented how pretty my hair was, but I often lamented to myself how my hair was so thin.
Since September, I have been able to eat more and started gaining weight. Very soon, my hair no longer was falling out. Over the next several months, my hair began growing back. At the beginning of this month, I noticed how thick and full my hair was. I was overjoyed it grew back, but then I started silently complaining that my hair was a wild, tangled mess again. The only way I can seem to keep it under control is by tying it in a tight bun or in a braid. (When I was growing up, my brother always teased me in the mornings before I combed my hair that I looked like Mufasa from the Lion King. My hair was a bushy lion’s mane around my face.)
So now I am happy to have my thick hair back, but I also find myself not quite happy about having to keep my hair tied tightly to prevent myself from looking like I just stepped inside from being in a violent windstorm. I keep telling myself God has richly blessed me with an abundance of hair...hair which can be grown and donated to help those who do not have hair. With that, I send up praises to God thanking Him for His loving kindness and thanking Him that my hair can be a blessing to others.
Tuesday, February 12, 2019
Playing by the rules, stuck with the bill (Part Two)
A few weeks ago, I had an appointment with my doctor. I inform her I have not been on the medication for 6 weeks because my insurance has denied coverage of the drug. My symptoms have been progressively getting worse. She tells me she will submit another prescription to my pharmacy.
A few days later, I receive a bill from my specialty pharmacy. Yes, my insurance had denied coverage of the drug last fall. I am now responsible for the balance. I call the pharmacy and explain my situation. I am simply told the claims were submitted; my insurance rejected payment. I call my insurance. I get no resolution from my insurance. I call back the pharmacy and ask them to resubmit the bills to my insurance. The customer service representative tells me the bills were submitted. The claims were rejected by my insurance. She does not give me an answer if the bills are going to be resubmitted. I end the call and give up for the day.
A week later, I get another notification from the pharmacy that I need to pay my bill. I call the pharmacy. I explain the whole situation and ask for the bills to be resubmitted to my insurance. The woman says she will forward my account on to someone who deals with insurance issues. I should hear back from the pharmacy in 30-45 days.
An hour later, I receive an email notice from the pharmacy that my medication has been shipped out. I am confused. How can this be? I did not authorize them to send out any more medicine. I immediately call the pharmacy and ask for the shipment to be stopped. I inform them I cannot afford the drug. The woman says she will work on it...but I know it is too late. The tracking on my package says the medicine is already at the airport waiting to start its overnight journey to my house.
The next day, ding, dong. The package is left on my porch. The delivery man quickly scurries away to his truck before my mom can get his attention to return the package back to the sender. I immediately call the pharmacy. I spend nearly an hour on the phone. The man says he needs to contact his supervisor. He will call me back. I wait and wait. No one calls me back.
The next day, I again call the pharmacy. I explain I cannot afford the drug. The pharmacy sent out the drug without my authorization. I again spend many, many minutes on the phone on hold. Finally, the customer service representative comes back on the phone.
Customer service representative (CSR): "One of the problems is you have two accounts. I do not know why you have two accounts, but that is making things confusing. I do not know why you were sent out the medicine without someone contacting you. It is our policy that someone calls you to make sure we are sending it to the right address, to make sure someone will be home when the drug is delivered (the medicine needs to be refrigerated), to make sure you are not having an allergic reaction to the medication, to make sure you can afford any possible payments associated with the drug so that a situation like this does not happen...Do not send back the drug to us. If you do, we will have to destroy it. Instead, take the medicine."
Me: "Will I be responsible for the cost of this drug? I did not want the medicine. I cannot afford it. No one called me for authorization."
CSR: "Well, because you did not contact us, informing us that you cannot afford the medicine until after we sent out the drug, and if we cannot get your insurance to pay, you will be responsible for the bill."
Me: "But I did not want the drug sent out. No one contacted me. How was I supposed to know y'all were going to send out the medicine?"
CSR: "Yes, that is unfortunate. I do not know why no one called you. Our policy is to call before we send out the medication. We will try to work with your insurance to get payment. Just take the drug as prescribed. It's important you take the drug. That's why we sent it out. We do not want you to be without the drug."
Me: "But if you cannot get my insurance to pay, I will be responsible for the bill?"
CSR: "Well, umm, yes. But don't worry about it. Just take the medicine."
I ask that a note be placed on my account that no medicine be sent out without first calling me and asking for my authorization. The CSR again says it's their policy to always call before sending medicine out, but he will place the note on my account.
I thank the CSR for his assistance and hang up.
I abruptly start laughing. Oh, this is so ridiculous! A company goes against their own policy sending out a drug, and then I am on the hook for the bill! How is this fair!? You can't just send me things in the mail and then demand payment. There has to be a law against this, isn't there?
Not knowing what else to do, I pray to God. "Well, this certainly is an interesting situation You have placed me in. I know all trials are from You. You know what my finances are. You know these bills will be a heavy burden on me. I know You can fix this...and that is what I ask. Please resolve this financial ordeal. Amen."
(Part One click here)
A few days later, I receive a bill from my specialty pharmacy. Yes, my insurance had denied coverage of the drug last fall. I am now responsible for the balance. I call the pharmacy and explain my situation. I am simply told the claims were submitted; my insurance rejected payment. I call my insurance. I get no resolution from my insurance. I call back the pharmacy and ask them to resubmit the bills to my insurance. The customer service representative tells me the bills were submitted. The claims were rejected by my insurance. She does not give me an answer if the bills are going to be resubmitted. I end the call and give up for the day.
A week later, I get another notification from the pharmacy that I need to pay my bill. I call the pharmacy. I explain the whole situation and ask for the bills to be resubmitted to my insurance. The woman says she will forward my account on to someone who deals with insurance issues. I should hear back from the pharmacy in 30-45 days.
An hour later, I receive an email notice from the pharmacy that my medication has been shipped out. I am confused. How can this be? I did not authorize them to send out any more medicine. I immediately call the pharmacy and ask for the shipment to be stopped. I inform them I cannot afford the drug. The woman says she will work on it...but I know it is too late. The tracking on my package says the medicine is already at the airport waiting to start its overnight journey to my house.
The next day, ding, dong. The package is left on my porch. The delivery man quickly scurries away to his truck before my mom can get his attention to return the package back to the sender. I immediately call the pharmacy. I spend nearly an hour on the phone. The man says he needs to contact his supervisor. He will call me back. I wait and wait. No one calls me back.
The next day, I again call the pharmacy. I explain I cannot afford the drug. The pharmacy sent out the drug without my authorization. I again spend many, many minutes on the phone on hold. Finally, the customer service representative comes back on the phone.
Customer service representative (CSR): "One of the problems is you have two accounts. I do not know why you have two accounts, but that is making things confusing. I do not know why you were sent out the medicine without someone contacting you. It is our policy that someone calls you to make sure we are sending it to the right address, to make sure someone will be home when the drug is delivered (the medicine needs to be refrigerated), to make sure you are not having an allergic reaction to the medication, to make sure you can afford any possible payments associated with the drug so that a situation like this does not happen...Do not send back the drug to us. If you do, we will have to destroy it. Instead, take the medicine."
Me: "Will I be responsible for the cost of this drug? I did not want the medicine. I cannot afford it. No one called me for authorization."
CSR: "Well, because you did not contact us, informing us that you cannot afford the medicine until after we sent out the drug, and if we cannot get your insurance to pay, you will be responsible for the bill."
Me: "But I did not want the drug sent out. No one contacted me. How was I supposed to know y'all were going to send out the medicine?"
CSR: "Yes, that is unfortunate. I do not know why no one called you. Our policy is to call before we send out the medication. We will try to work with your insurance to get payment. Just take the drug as prescribed. It's important you take the drug. That's why we sent it out. We do not want you to be without the drug."
Me: "But if you cannot get my insurance to pay, I will be responsible for the bill?"
CSR: "Well, umm, yes. But don't worry about it. Just take the medicine."
I ask that a note be placed on my account that no medicine be sent out without first calling me and asking for my authorization. The CSR again says it's their policy to always call before sending medicine out, but he will place the note on my account.
I thank the CSR for his assistance and hang up.
I abruptly start laughing. Oh, this is so ridiculous! A company goes against their own policy sending out a drug, and then I am on the hook for the bill! How is this fair!? You can't just send me things in the mail and then demand payment. There has to be a law against this, isn't there?
Not knowing what else to do, I pray to God. "Well, this certainly is an interesting situation You have placed me in. I know all trials are from You. You know what my finances are. You know these bills will be a heavy burden on me. I know You can fix this...and that is what I ask. Please resolve this financial ordeal. Amen."
(Part One click here)
Thursday, February 7, 2019
Playing by the rules, stuck with the bill (Part One)
With having a limited income, I am constantly checking to make sure doctor visits, procedures, tests, medicines and other services are covered by my insurance. If find out something is not covered, I will cancel the service.
Last fall, my doctor prescribed a medication which was instantly denied by my insurance. I was not diagnosed with the medical condition needed for my insurance to cover the drug. My doctor then resubmitted the request and added medical records (and the appropriate diagnosis) needed to get the medicine covered by my insurance. The information and second request were sent to a speciality pharmacy.
The speciality pharmacy called me and told me my medication may not be covered by my insurance. They would work on the paperwork and try to get the drug covered. I was informed of the price of the drug and nearly had a heart attack! If my insurance denied drug coverage, there was no way I could afford to pay for the drug out of pocket.
A week later, I received a phone call from the speciality pharmacy. Good news, my insurance was going to cover the cost of the drug. My responsibility would be zero dollars. Hooray! What a blessing. The specialty pharmacy sent out the drug.
Five weeks after receiving the drug, I receive a letter in the mail. My insurance notified me that they were denying coverage of the medication. Under their guidelines, I did not qualify for the drug. I immediately stop all refills of the medicine.
I notify my doctor about the insurance issue. She assures me the medicine can be covered by my insurance. She submits another prescription. The specialty pharmacy attempts to process the request; however, there seems to be an insurance issue. The prescription is not filled.
(Part a Two click here)
Last fall, my doctor prescribed a medication which was instantly denied by my insurance. I was not diagnosed with the medical condition needed for my insurance to cover the drug. My doctor then resubmitted the request and added medical records (and the appropriate diagnosis) needed to get the medicine covered by my insurance. The information and second request were sent to a speciality pharmacy.
The speciality pharmacy called me and told me my medication may not be covered by my insurance. They would work on the paperwork and try to get the drug covered. I was informed of the price of the drug and nearly had a heart attack! If my insurance denied drug coverage, there was no way I could afford to pay for the drug out of pocket.
A week later, I received a phone call from the speciality pharmacy. Good news, my insurance was going to cover the cost of the drug. My responsibility would be zero dollars. Hooray! What a blessing. The specialty pharmacy sent out the drug.
Five weeks after receiving the drug, I receive a letter in the mail. My insurance notified me that they were denying coverage of the medication. Under their guidelines, I did not qualify for the drug. I immediately stop all refills of the medicine.
I notify my doctor about the insurance issue. She assures me the medicine can be covered by my insurance. She submits another prescription. The specialty pharmacy attempts to process the request; however, there seems to be an insurance issue. The prescription is not filled.
(Part a Two click here)
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