“I couldn't live a week without a private library
- indeed, I'd part with all my furniture and squat and sleep on the floor
before I'd let go of the 1500 or so books I possess.” ― H.P. Lovecraft

Whistling In The Graveyard

Friday, May 30, 2003

OK. You're going to have to bear with me here. See I haven't slept in about 36 hours and if my blood pressure gets any higher it's going to start squirting out my fucking eyes. Here goes...

Some of you know that I’ve been recovering from multiple surgeries over the last year and a half and some of you know that all the while I’ve been fighting with my piece-of-shit HMO insurance company Carelink. If you have a choice, do not give Carelink your business. If you find yourself having to do business with them I encourage you to defraud them and rip them off in any way you can. Burn the buildings down and shoot the people who work there. I mean it. I want to see blood people.

Anyway, I need one final surgery to fix me up. So I set my surgery for the 2nd of June. It seemed to be such a simple thing. So today (Friday May 30th) I get my chest X-ray. My insurance company sees the chest x-ray and finds out what it's for and calls my doctor and tells him not to do any surgery on me because they're not paying for it. So they call Mom and she calls me and I call them. You following me here? They tell me that I have to work it out with the insurance company. Turns out the insurance company paid for the first part of the surgery, well part of it anyway. So I tell the insurance people that they paid for the first half, so they should have no problem approving the second half, right? So they tell me that no one was supposed to approve the first part so they won't approve the second part.

Sooooo I push the surgery back so I have time to talk to my lawyer. They ask me if July 13th is OK. I say fine. So I tell my Mom who informs me that my insurance runs out at the end of June. So I call the doctor back (did I mention this is all on Nate's cellphone?) and get them to set it for June 13th, which for all I know might have been what they said in the first motherfucking place, it's kinda hard to tell with the sleep-depravation bats swooping and diving at my head the way they are. So I tell Mom that it's now JUNE 13th and she goddamn freaks. Seems she's going on some trip on the 14th and she won't let me have my surgery the day before she leaves for wherever the fuck she's going. She's also my ride home from the hospital.

By this point, the insurance office, the doctor's office, and my lawyer's office (I guess I called him too at some point) are all closed, which means I can't do shit about shit till Monday, the day that was supposed to end all of this horseshit.



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