Our yard still looks like that. It's cool, though. We just hang out in the front yard (except on days the bees are stinging for no known reason). There's no grass and a ton of pine needles, but it smells nice, and nothing draws blood. The girls are kind of making friends from the front yard, too, so it works out. I say "kind of" because it mostly goes like this.
Grace: HI!
Emmy: HI!
Girls Across the Street (GAS): Hi!
Grace: HI!
GAS: ...Hi.
Emmy: HI!
GAS: hi
Grace: HI! HI! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? HI! IS THAT YOUR BIKE? MY YOUR TIRE SWING LOOKS MIGHTY FUN. WHAT ARE YOU EATING?
Emmy: Hi!
GAS: Do you want to come play?
Grace and Emmy: Yes!
I wouldn't really call that "making friends" so much as "hinting desperately until someone caves," but whatever. She doesn't hide behind me and scream when we go in public anymore, so I don't care.
Also, we have spiders. So many spiders. The Pit of Despair (our "basement," which is like calling a torture dungeon a "cellar") back in Wisconsin had spiders like this, too, but I didn't know Utah had spiders like this, unless you were out in the desert and maybe also already bitten by a rattlesnake. All different kinds of spiders, too, so it's not just one nest hidden somewhere clever.
No, we have the round fat-bodied spiders and the flat, quick-legged spiders and everything terrifying in between. It's become a sort of dreadful joke around here. My old physics book is my weapon of choice (they GATHER in the girls' bathroom, probably waiting for fat child's toes to bite; this is not some kind, furry spider catching flies in a corner somewhere). Three days in a row last week, Jeremy came home and had to clean off the book and the tub/floor. I check under desks and tables before I sit down. I shake out anything I pick up off the floor. I'm hallucinating spiders in my sleep again. I'm hallucinating spiders when I'm NOT asleep. It's been fun.
The last couple of months have been very busy. For me, I mean. For a normal person not completely overwhelmed by anything outside strict routine, it would only be moderately busy. But I'm learning to accept my limitations.
First, my parents came to visit. It was good. Except for the afternoon the power went out, which was also the day I'd invited a friend over for dinner, and we ended up carting everything to her house. After that we came home, and the power was STILL out, and it was eighty-seven thousand degrees in the house until 11:30pm. Other than that, it was good. The girls still call the guest room "Grandma and Grandpa's room," which is both sweet and a little heartbreaking.
Then we all went out to the Black Hills and spent another week in the same cabin with my parents. And get this: no one killed anyone else. Truthfully, I would have killed US if I were my parents, but I guess when you get really old you grow patience.
And then we got back, and now that I have friends who live nearby I feel like I'm always doing things all the time. Don't misunderstand; it's good for me, and I love it, and I never want to give this up, but my tiny robot brain doesn't do well with disruptions to the norm, and I end up flaking out or double-booking, or forgetting things at home like, oh, thawing food for dinner. Idiot. Sometimes I feel like a high-functioning ADD person. Or maybe a high-functioning comatose person.
And finally, I got strep. Which was the worst I've ever had it, and this makes the third time in less than two years. The doctor suggested that someone in the family might be a carrier, and my money is on Emmy because she's just into everything all the time and probably picked it up by accidentally falling in a trash can. She falls a lot. In church on Sunday, she fell out of her chair into the aisle. Just from sitting. I don't know what happened. It happens at least once a day (and the other day she ran nose-first into one of our dining room chairs, and I honestly thought she'd broken it for a minute). She is a mess of accidents, and it's completely hilarious (once she's done crying).
Grace, as usual, is the opposite. She rarely falls and rarely runs into anything (but when she does, she doesn't know how to handle it and completely loses it). If she weren't destined by genetics to be so tall, I think she would make a fantastic ballerina. She is also teaching herself to read. We can no longer spell things in front of her.
Me: Hon, we should get the girls some I-C-E-C-R-E-A-M tonight.
Grace: What are you saying?
Me: Spinach.
Grace: Haha, Mom. You said "ice cream."
I was hoping to postpone this inconvenient milestone for a while longer by confusing her and telling her that everything spells "spinach," but it's not working anymore.
So that's our life right now. Despite all the spiders, I love our new house. It is practically perfect for us. Life has been very good this summer.
Tuesday, August 13, 2013
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Landscaping for Cheap Dummies
Our yard pretty much looks like this:
There aren't any heads impaled in our yard. That was just for effect. The sticker weeds might as well be capable of impaling heads in the yard, for all they render it useless. You go out there with shoes on, and it's fine, but then they come in on your clothes and shoes, and work their way into the carpet and washing machine.
I went out and sprayed some weed killer on them a few days ago, and it worked. They're all dead. But of course they can't get up and walk themselves out of the yard (despite being able to breed inside the house), so there they sit. I even mowed, hoping at least some of them would get sucked into the mower, and this is what that was like:
And our yard still looks like this:
Except with less green.
I am not so thrilled with the idea of a grass lawn. Hoping for a green grass lawn is a fantasy in Utah unless you have a lot of shade trees and/or a lot of money to water it. I know some of you people are into nice lawns, so please don't be offended when I say that I think it's a waste. Our front yard is shaded very nicely (by pine trees, which kill the grass), but the back yard just bakes in the sun all day long. Keeping grass alive back there would be like throwing snowballs at a house fire.
So I'm looking into low-maintenance, less resource-intensive alternatives to grass, and I've come up with clover. Only problem is, it looks like it's an ordeal to plant. It's ideally done in spring, you have to mix the seed evenly in a wheelbarrow with dirt, and spread it. Then you have to cover the seed with another thin layer of dirt. I enjoy yard work, but that would take days of work. My children would not rise up and call me blessed after ignoring them for that long, and they're no good at helping because they have weak arms and spirits.
That means (I think that means) that we're stuck with our head-impaling yard until next spring.
I would also like to do something with our front yard, which I really love. The pine trees keep anything from growing, but they're really nice shade, and the sound they make in the wind is so relaxing. But the house looks like a tenement. I don't even know where to start. I would like to make a little patio outside the front door and put something underneath the trees so that we at least look like we take care of the place.
Is there a *cheap way to make a little patio? How do you level the ground? Do you need expensive things, or can something like that be done with a shovel? What do you put under a pine tree that looks pretty but doesn't need regular pruning and lovingkindness and an ability to garden with any kind of skill? Don't say rocks because they are way more expensive that you might think, even the ones people are selling online that they dug up out of their back field.
*When I say "cheap," I mean, "really, really cheap." Not "Oh, this mulch only cost me $100!" No. Not an option. I have basically unlimited time (in chunks, of course). I do not have $100 to spend on mulch.
There aren't any heads impaled in our yard. That was just for effect. The sticker weeds might as well be capable of impaling heads in the yard, for all they render it useless. You go out there with shoes on, and it's fine, but then they come in on your clothes and shoes, and work their way into the carpet and washing machine.
I went out and sprayed some weed killer on them a few days ago, and it worked. They're all dead. But of course they can't get up and walk themselves out of the yard (despite being able to breed inside the house), so there they sit. I even mowed, hoping at least some of them would get sucked into the mower, and this is what that was like:
And our yard still looks like this:
Except with less green.
I am not so thrilled with the idea of a grass lawn. Hoping for a green grass lawn is a fantasy in Utah unless you have a lot of shade trees and/or a lot of money to water it. I know some of you people are into nice lawns, so please don't be offended when I say that I think it's a waste. Our front yard is shaded very nicely (by pine trees, which kill the grass), but the back yard just bakes in the sun all day long. Keeping grass alive back there would be like throwing snowballs at a house fire.
So I'm looking into low-maintenance, less resource-intensive alternatives to grass, and I've come up with clover. Only problem is, it looks like it's an ordeal to plant. It's ideally done in spring, you have to mix the seed evenly in a wheelbarrow with dirt, and spread it. Then you have to cover the seed with another thin layer of dirt. I enjoy yard work, but that would take days of work. My children would not rise up and call me blessed after ignoring them for that long, and they're no good at helping because they have weak arms and spirits.
That means (I think that means) that we're stuck with our head-impaling yard until next spring.
I would also like to do something with our front yard, which I really love. The pine trees keep anything from growing, but they're really nice shade, and the sound they make in the wind is so relaxing. But the house looks like a tenement. I don't even know where to start. I would like to make a little patio outside the front door and put something underneath the trees so that we at least look like we take care of the place.
Is there a *cheap way to make a little patio? How do you level the ground? Do you need expensive things, or can something like that be done with a shovel? What do you put under a pine tree that looks pretty but doesn't need regular pruning and lovingkindness and an ability to garden with any kind of skill? Don't say rocks because they are way more expensive that you might think, even the ones people are selling online that they dug up out of their back field.
*When I say "cheap," I mean, "really, really cheap." Not "Oh, this mulch only cost me $100!" No. Not an option. I have basically unlimited time (in chunks, of course). I do not have $100 to spend on mulch.
Monday, June 3, 2013
We moved!
I'm so excited to have a shorter address. Our first street name was Robin Hills Drive, with an apartment number on the end. Then it was something nice and short. And then it was North Park Trail Way, with an apartment number again. I am certain that whoever comes up with these names is a person who has never had to fill out a form himself in his entire life. I especially enjoy it in the grocery checkout, when I sign up for a frequent shopper card. The people behind me burst into flames of anger because it takes so long to fill out a form.
Now it's 4653 E. 2315 South. I could make it even shorter by writing "S." instead. The power!
*These are not our exact street names, since I like to throw at least a few anti-stalker tokens out once in a while, even though I'm certain that will never happen anyway. But they're the same length, approximately, and it's completely absurd.
So, we moved. I am also excited about several other things:
1. My sister (Or whoever! Just let me know ahead of time! If you just show up, I might call the cops!) can visit, and the 86 young children in an apartment won't create a rip in the space-time continuum.
2. We have a yard. A fenced-in yard.
3. My oven is self-cleaning. In fact, it is self-cleaning RIGHT NOW. It smells like Mordor up there, but I don't care.
4. We can walk to and from church. And "we" includes the children, who are still small enough that they still have spontaneous leg failure on occasion.
5. The kids have their own rooms. THEIR OWN ROOMS. Do you know how much sleep has happened in the last week? Hours. Hours and hours and hours. And hours! Everyone is getting along better. The first two days were rough because they had many eruptions of rampant whining. But then they got used to it here, and we kind of like each other again.
Things I am not excited about:
1. Our yard. It is filled with sand burrs and tiny pieces of glass. The kids have gotten a little tougher in the last week, but I still think it's unsafe. We will have to shop vac the entire yard. Yes, I will be the neighbor who vacuums her yard.
That's actually about it. Everything else is fantastic. I haven't even seen a single spider.
Now it's 4653 E. 2315 South. I could make it even shorter by writing "S." instead. The power!
*These are not our exact street names, since I like to throw at least a few anti-stalker tokens out once in a while, even though I'm certain that will never happen anyway. But they're the same length, approximately, and it's completely absurd.
So, we moved. I am also excited about several other things:
1. My sister (Or whoever! Just let me know ahead of time! If you just show up, I might call the cops!) can visit, and the 86 young children in an apartment won't create a rip in the space-time continuum.
2. We have a yard. A fenced-in yard.
3. My oven is self-cleaning. In fact, it is self-cleaning RIGHT NOW. It smells like Mordor up there, but I don't care.
4. We can walk to and from church. And "we" includes the children, who are still small enough that they still have spontaneous leg failure on occasion.
5. The kids have their own rooms. THEIR OWN ROOMS. Do you know how much sleep has happened in the last week? Hours. Hours and hours and hours. And hours! Everyone is getting along better. The first two days were rough because they had many eruptions of rampant whining. But then they got used to it here, and we kind of like each other again.
Things I am not excited about:
1. Our yard. It is filled with sand burrs and tiny pieces of glass. The kids have gotten a little tougher in the last week, but I still think it's unsafe. We will have to shop vac the entire yard. Yes, I will be the neighbor who vacuums her yard.
That's actually about it. Everything else is fantastic. I haven't even seen a single spider.
Thursday, May 16, 2013
Lamest Superpower Ever
I had my first PT appointment today. I keep trying to write "TP," which brings a whole new (and probably more interesting) meaning to this entry. They gave me to a student therapist first, who had me wave my arms in different directions and tested my strength in different directions (I am surprisingly strong, he said, so there's that). It turns out that my shoulders are hypermobile. It sounds like a superpower, right? More like a defect, although it is probably part of the reason I'm above average at swimming.
This is also the reason I have issues with my posture. No matter how hard I try to sit up straight and stand up straight, I have the Mom Hunch. Blelgh. Hate it. I makes me look shorter and even stockier up top.
When the main guy came over, the student was kind of excited and was all, "Hey, try the Jungerson-Manx [or something] test on her shoulders." And the main guy did, and said, "Whoah," and the student said, "See what I mean?" They did a few more "Try the..." "Whoah" "See what I mean?" exchanges after this. I felt like an unusual yet special specimen. I expect to contribute to Shoulder Science in a big way someday.
The phrase "loosey goosey" was thrown around a lot. They gave me a bunch of exercises to do every other day, and I go back in two weeks. He asked if I was good at doing my homework. Inside, I said, "Uuuuuhh.... Welll..." Outside, I smiled unnaturally and said "Yes!" like if I said it with enough conviction, it would be true.
I joke, but this is homework I will do. I will do it regularly. I will WIN at physical therapy. I will be the valedictorian of physical therapy.
Monday, May 13, 2013
Busy busy busy
So I did, in fact, mishear the receptionist over the phone. Or she misread. I suspect she said, "There's NO tear on the labrum," and I heard, "There's A tear on the labrum." I know I didn't just make it up because I'd never heard it before, and, as one of my noters also thought, it really sounded like it was more of a lady parts problem than a shoulder problem. Which made me think for just a second that the MRI tech was really incompetent.
I have bursitis. So, it still sucks, but I will be okay. I go to PT this Thursday, so hopefully whatever he has me do will help get me back to swimming.
We have found a house to rent, and we signed papers on it today! It has four bedrooms, two bathrooms and family rooms, a not-horrible kitchen, a dining room that is completely open to one of the family rooms (making it possible to expand our table if needed), and a backyard. It also smells nice and has new carpet and tile floors.
The drawbacks: the backyard is a little weird and small, and the garage has been converted to a studio apartment and has tenants.
The children have been at their absolute worst for nighttimes. I am looking forward to them having their own bedrooms more than I am almost anything else. Whoever would think that your kids loving each other and getting along well would be a problem? But they're sleep-deprived and grouchy, which makes me grouchy (and sometimes sleep-deprived), and most days lately have been a TARGET="about_blank">Sneaky Hate Spiral.
I did start running outside most mornings, which usually changes my attitude for the better for at least a couple of hours. Much as I hate getting up early, I have to say that once I'm awake, I'm a much more cheerful, energetic person than when I get up just an hour later. Even if I don't go to bed earlier. Odd.
Jeremy went on another trip at the beginning of this month. He was gone for over a week, and I went nuts on the apartment. I started with the office, which has always been the repository for random crap we don't know what to do with. I'm a compulsive purger, but even I haven't really touched the office since we moved. It started out as our repository for random crap, and I just never got a foothold. So I spent five hours clearing it out. I threw away or gave away so much stuff. When I was done, it was the cleanest room in our place.
So that launched me into the rest of the apartment. I did a couple of closets, the kitchen, and the pantry. I sold our elliptical and packed up most of our books in order to collapse a bookshelf and tuck it away. I packed away half our belongings and stacked them neatly in the garage, which I also emptied of extra stuff.
I didn't tell Jeremy I did all this, so it was quite a surprise when he walked in the door. I did tell him ahead of time, "When you see what I've done, I need for you to act far more enthusiastic than is in your nature, otherwise I will cut you." So I'm not sure it was genuine or not. But I don't really care.
Monday, April 8, 2013
My pride and joy and stupid shoulder
So I got the results on my MRI. It got kind of garbled, and I was of course a little freaked about being on the phone, but I'm 99% sure she said "tear on the labrum." Which is shorthand for, "If you ever want to swim again, brace yourself for surgery." Maybe she said "flair on the cadmium," which I would prefer.
This has thrown me into a bit of a funk. I've recently realized that I can't just have straightforward emotions. They come at me sideways. I don't feel worried or upset about my stupid shoulder. But I'm cranky and haven't been sleeping as well, for no apparent reason. It took me like three days to figure out that it was about the shoulder.
Shoulder. Shoulder. If you say it over and over again, it starts to sound like it comes from another dimension. Or that could be the Ambien. Because yes I am writing while on Ambien again. It's a trip. You should try it sometime. But only if you have a legal prescription.
Emmy has ratcheted up the turdliness to eleven lately. The problem with Emmy is that even while she's being wildly rebellious and irritating, she's so hilarious about it, you can't keep a straight face. I simultaneous want to sell her to circus people and squish her with hugs and cheek-pinchings.
"Emmy, get your socks and shoes on. We're leaving in five minutes."
She doesn't scream and throw a tantrum. No, she looks straight at you, makes a random animal noise, and then runs into another room, where you find her somersaulting naked except for her socks.
She also does have little mini-tantrums, but they usually end with her kicking/hitting something (mostly the piano bench leg, it's her favorite tantrum spot), and then crying because she's sure she broke her leg/foot/finger/hair. I enjoy natural consequences.
Jeremy was just gone for a week and a half. Best trip yet (for me), because both children can get themselves fully fed, dressed, teeth brushed, and buckled into their car seats without my assistance. I could just start sleeping in the van when it gets warm out and shout commands from the open window. Do you know how much sleep I would get then?
I started that as a joke, but I'm kind of considering it as a real experiment now.
So, his trip was not so bad. I have a few friends who really spoiled me, and the weather has been nice, and no one was sick. We stayed busy, and I didn't become an alcoholic.
Grace is turning into... I don't know. She is like two different people.
Alpha Grace is independent. She tries new things. She surprises me by recognizing new words, or eating raw vegetables. She leaps all over playground equipment and says hi to strangers. If she sees some kids at the playground she says, "Hey, look over there! Some friends!" even when she's never met them before.
Beta Grace is frustrated by everything. She tries two times, breaks into hysterical tears and says, "I CAAAAAAN'T!" and becomes completely irrational for the next ten minutes. It's like she's on a highly restricted medication I don't remember ever giving her.
I am hoping that it was just the turmoil of Jeremy being gone and then coming back; she's not usually this extreme. I think she may also be tired. Emmy likes to climb into bed with her, which, as you can imagine, is not as welcome as Emmy expects it to be. So neither of them really sleep. The night owl keeps the morning person up at night, and the morning person wakes the night owl way too early. It's ever so much fun, and I can't wait to find a rental house.
This has thrown me into a bit of a funk. I've recently realized that I can't just have straightforward emotions. They come at me sideways. I don't feel worried or upset about my stupid shoulder. But I'm cranky and haven't been sleeping as well, for no apparent reason. It took me like three days to figure out that it was about the shoulder.
Shoulder. Shoulder. If you say it over and over again, it starts to sound like it comes from another dimension. Or that could be the Ambien. Because yes I am writing while on Ambien again. It's a trip. You should try it sometime. But only if you have a legal prescription.
Emmy has ratcheted up the turdliness to eleven lately. The problem with Emmy is that even while she's being wildly rebellious and irritating, she's so hilarious about it, you can't keep a straight face. I simultaneous want to sell her to circus people and squish her with hugs and cheek-pinchings.
"Emmy, get your socks and shoes on. We're leaving in five minutes."
She doesn't scream and throw a tantrum. No, she looks straight at you, makes a random animal noise, and then runs into another room, where you find her somersaulting naked except for her socks.
She also does have little mini-tantrums, but they usually end with her kicking/hitting something (mostly the piano bench leg, it's her favorite tantrum spot), and then crying because she's sure she broke her leg/foot/finger/hair. I enjoy natural consequences.
Jeremy was just gone for a week and a half. Best trip yet (for me), because both children can get themselves fully fed, dressed, teeth brushed, and buckled into their car seats without my assistance. I could just start sleeping in the van when it gets warm out and shout commands from the open window. Do you know how much sleep I would get then?
I started that as a joke, but I'm kind of considering it as a real experiment now.
So, his trip was not so bad. I have a few friends who really spoiled me, and the weather has been nice, and no one was sick. We stayed busy, and I didn't become an alcoholic.
Grace is turning into... I don't know. She is like two different people.
Alpha Grace is independent. She tries new things. She surprises me by recognizing new words, or eating raw vegetables. She leaps all over playground equipment and says hi to strangers. If she sees some kids at the playground she says, "Hey, look over there! Some friends!" even when she's never met them before.
Beta Grace is frustrated by everything. She tries two times, breaks into hysterical tears and says, "I CAAAAAAN'T!" and becomes completely irrational for the next ten minutes. It's like she's on a highly restricted medication I don't remember ever giving her.
I am hoping that it was just the turmoil of Jeremy being gone and then coming back; she's not usually this extreme. I think she may also be tired. Emmy likes to climb into bed with her, which, as you can imagine, is not as welcome as Emmy expects it to be. So neither of them really sleep. The night owl keeps the morning person up at night, and the morning person wakes the night owl way too early. It's ever so much fun, and I can't wait to find a rental house.
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
I love insurance
So my orthopedically old shoulder and I had an MRI today. It was supposed to be two weeks ago, but of course something crazy happened with insurance, and I had to reschedule.
Let me tell you about insurance. Some of you may remember that they refused to pay our hospital bill when Grace was born. Our insurance switched from one company to another on the day she was born, which has apparently never happened in the history of the world, so no one knew what to do about it. It didn't get taken care of until eight months later. EIGHT MONTHS. Do you know what would happen if we didn't pay a bill for eight months?
I'm pretty sure there was some kind of hang-up with Emmy's birth, too, but I don't remember. I was surviving having two kids who couldn't even walk yet.
And then this past year, two doctor visits were deemed unnecessary by my insurance and were therefore not paid for several more months. One was a physical; the other was a well-woman exam.
I have had it up to HERE with insurance. And we have one of the "good" companies. On paper, we have fantastic health coverage. In practice, it's more like pulling teeth. Which we also have insurance for.
So. The day of my shoulder appointment a couple of weeks ago, I got another appointment scheduled for an MRI. When I called the hospital to pre-register, our insurance came up as not existing at all. We were uninsured as of February 28th. I gave birth to a baby cow right there, screamed at the wall, and then called Jeremy.
He called a bunch of people, and finally we got it straightened out. Our health insurance was still through his old office in Wisconsin, which we moved away from over two years ago. It was switched over the day that I called the hospital to pre-register for my appointment. Apparently this has also never happened before in the history of the world; I wonder what they would have done if I'd been in a car accident and had gone to the ER.
So I had to call my doctor's office again to schedule an MRI again, and you all know how I feel about the telephone. The lady at my doctor's office, she is kind and well-meaning, but I do not think she has very good verbal comprehension. I have the same problem on the phone. It's part of the reason I hate talking on it so much. I sometimes feel like I'm listening to a language that doesn't exist yet. I call it telephone Aspberger's. I'm always taking offense at innocuous comments, or laughing at really inappropriate times, or not understanding any words coming at me through the earpiece.
HOWEVER. I have never attempted to hold a job which required me to communicate over the telephone. This lady, it is her job. So it was very frustrating to repeat, over and over again (I wrote it down ahead of time so I would not be confusing), "I was there a couple of weeks ago. Dr. Lee told me to schedule an MRI at the hospital through this office. My appointment fell through because of an insurance mix-up. So I need to reschedule, please." I have dealt with her in person before, so I know she is not stupid. But I felt like I was talking to a three-year-old.
Finally, FINALLY, it got scheduled for today. I was all excited, imagining it like an episode of House, but it wasn't. The hospital was almost as nice (there is a water feature in the outpatient waiting room that is absolutely mesmerizing, the lighting is pleasant, and the heat is at an adequate temperature for someone with no shoes on), but otherwise it was completely boring. I almost fell asleep. I would have fallen asleep if I hadn't drank four cups of coffee this morning. First it was the itchy skin, and then I had to pee. There was no TOCK TOCK TOCK TOCK like on TV. Mostly a loud, electronic hum, with a few beeps here and there, and a subtle yet soothing vibration. I felt like a swaddled baby in a buzzing rocker.
The tech wasn't allowed to tell me anything about what he saw (as I expected), but he did say that their specialist was in that very morning, and since I had an early appointment, the results would probably be done tomorrow. That doesn't mean I will necessarily hear about it tomorrow, but hopefully my doctor will.
Let me tell you about insurance. Some of you may remember that they refused to pay our hospital bill when Grace was born. Our insurance switched from one company to another on the day she was born, which has apparently never happened in the history of the world, so no one knew what to do about it. It didn't get taken care of until eight months later. EIGHT MONTHS. Do you know what would happen if we didn't pay a bill for eight months?
I'm pretty sure there was some kind of hang-up with Emmy's birth, too, but I don't remember. I was surviving having two kids who couldn't even walk yet.
And then this past year, two doctor visits were deemed unnecessary by my insurance and were therefore not paid for several more months. One was a physical; the other was a well-woman exam.
I have had it up to HERE with insurance. And we have one of the "good" companies. On paper, we have fantastic health coverage. In practice, it's more like pulling teeth. Which we also have insurance for.
So. The day of my shoulder appointment a couple of weeks ago, I got another appointment scheduled for an MRI. When I called the hospital to pre-register, our insurance came up as not existing at all. We were uninsured as of February 28th. I gave birth to a baby cow right there, screamed at the wall, and then called Jeremy.
He called a bunch of people, and finally we got it straightened out. Our health insurance was still through his old office in Wisconsin, which we moved away from over two years ago. It was switched over the day that I called the hospital to pre-register for my appointment. Apparently this has also never happened before in the history of the world; I wonder what they would have done if I'd been in a car accident and had gone to the ER.
So I had to call my doctor's office again to schedule an MRI again, and you all know how I feel about the telephone. The lady at my doctor's office, she is kind and well-meaning, but I do not think she has very good verbal comprehension. I have the same problem on the phone. It's part of the reason I hate talking on it so much. I sometimes feel like I'm listening to a language that doesn't exist yet. I call it telephone Aspberger's. I'm always taking offense at innocuous comments, or laughing at really inappropriate times, or not understanding any words coming at me through the earpiece.
HOWEVER. I have never attempted to hold a job which required me to communicate over the telephone. This lady, it is her job. So it was very frustrating to repeat, over and over again (I wrote it down ahead of time so I would not be confusing), "I was there a couple of weeks ago. Dr. Lee told me to schedule an MRI at the hospital through this office. My appointment fell through because of an insurance mix-up. So I need to reschedule, please." I have dealt with her in person before, so I know she is not stupid. But I felt like I was talking to a three-year-old.
Finally, FINALLY, it got scheduled for today. I was all excited, imagining it like an episode of House, but it wasn't. The hospital was almost as nice (there is a water feature in the outpatient waiting room that is absolutely mesmerizing, the lighting is pleasant, and the heat is at an adequate temperature for someone with no shoes on), but otherwise it was completely boring. I almost fell asleep. I would have fallen asleep if I hadn't drank four cups of coffee this morning. First it was the itchy skin, and then I had to pee. There was no TOCK TOCK TOCK TOCK like on TV. Mostly a loud, electronic hum, with a few beeps here and there, and a subtle yet soothing vibration. I felt like a swaddled baby in a buzzing rocker.
The tech wasn't allowed to tell me anything about what he saw (as I expected), but he did say that their specialist was in that very morning, and since I had an early appointment, the results would probably be done tomorrow. That doesn't mean I will necessarily hear about it tomorrow, but hopefully my doctor will.
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