I received a call yesterday from one of my doctor’s offices. The main doctor in my life. The one who knows about every illness, and the fat on my thighs. Her nurse called to tell me that I was past due for certain annual/bi-annual screening tests. She knows this, not because she had time to check the files, but rather because my insurance company sent my doctor a letter to inform them of this fact.
Hmmmm. I smell a problem. Why would any insurance company want me to have diagnostic tests? This year alone I have had every part of my body x-rayed, scanned, poked, prodded, scoped, and invaded. I had 32 vials of blood drawn at one time for testing. I’ve had tubes and hoses and cameras run down my throat looking for frogs. I’ve eaten more than my fair share of radioactive eggs so they could be followed on x-ray devices. I’ve had scans that lasted longer than Gone With the Wind, requiring me to be perfectly still which is not required when you watch Gone With the Wind. Even the movie provides for a 2 minute intermission which I did not get during the test. I’ve had stress tests, and heart caths, and MRI’s, and I think there may have been at least one FBI agent involved in all of this. I was sent to a specialty center to figure out why I love food but my body doesn’t. I’ve been instructed how to obtain medications from a foreign country and I’ve been told that all my problems are due to large breasts. All of this at great cost to me AND my insurance company. So just why exactly is the insurance company wanting to spend more money on me?
Does the insurance company really think it is going to stop with the ‘suggested annual test’? I think not. Once these medical investigative mis-hapers get started they don’t stop with just one, and I mean one of anything. One x-ray is not enough. One vial of blood is not enough. One test of any kind is certainly not enough. It begins with the reminder, not so gentle, that I needed my annual mammogram. Oh yeah, you’re also due for your bi-annual Dexxa Scan. Hmmmm. And your annual poke and prod by the doctor. But, before you come for your poke and prod session please be sure to visit the lab and have your quarterly blood tests done, and while you’re there see if they want to check your oil and transmission fluid.
I want these medical marvels to understand that I am currently too sick to be well. I tried telling that to the lady at BCBS of Florida, but she was involved with some Mafia Game on her computer. I had a major lupus flare this summer, which by the way, is what started all this mess. I have yet to recover. 32 vials of blood takes a long time to replace, especially when most of what you eat is green and not red. I have been so busy tending to all the things they told me I need to do to get well that I have no time to concentrate or spend on staying well.
Does the insurance company think that by spending money on preventative procedures and tests that I will be pronounced well and they will get to pay less for my treatment in the future? I only wish it worked that way. In my case, one test always leads to 7 or 12 more. Check the veins in my legs and you may find out they are okay but then you’re going to notice the dimpled fat on the inner and outer thighs which I’m sure indicates some malfunction of the body that needs further investigation. Case in point, my first trip to the ER via ambulance this past June.
The EMT’s do what EMT’s are taught to do, first the EKG. Abnormal indicating an earlier heart attack. I went to the ER twice by ambulance in the same day so I got two copies of the abnormal EKG. When discussing this with my personal physician she said let’s do another EKG. Also abnormal. Well, to rule out any problems we must do a nuclear stress test. No plain test for me. Oh no. Let’s add radioactive material to the mix. Four hours, one trip to the floor during a fainting spell, and a migraine headache later I was finished. Once again the test was abnormal. Something about the anterior portion showing slowed beats or some such nonsense. So off to the cardiologist I go.
At his suggestion and the fact that he will be paid for it, I was scheduled for a heart Cath. One more test, thousands more dollars. The day came. The test was done. It was determined that I am fine. My heart is fine. All the problems stem from big breasts. You heard me, my mammary glands are causing problems with all these tests.
Oh, the annual test my insurance company wants me to have? My annual breast exam. They haven’t a clue what they are starting here.
From the life and mind of:
Wanda M. Argersinger
All Rights Reserved 2009