I came to the conclusion that the local teaching hospital/health network and I have a pretty similar problem. See, when an appendage or superfluous bit is busted or diseased or screwed up beyond repair, you can chop the bastard right off. But I can’t cut out my brain stem. And, sadly, as compassionate, dedicated, interested, and attentive as the doctors, nurses, and even the front-line-in-the-trenches office staff might be, they’re plagued by a defective central nervous system.
And I guess, just like my stupid brain stem makes my heart work hard when it doesn’t need to, and fails to send my kidneys the vasopressin they’re expecting, the central office is kinda taking their sweet time to send requests to the insurance company and referrals for procedures outside the system out where they need to go — it makes the jobs of the appendage like medical personnel that already have a pretty friggin’ unenviable position (yes, not as crappy as my position, but I don’t really envy them their part in this either) even harder. They don’t need their jobs to be harder. I don’t need their jobs to be any harder.
The central office (at the network, not to be confused with my brain stem) finally took that leap and hit send on my doctor’s request for approval for an MRI sometime mid to late last week. As I figured, the insurance company then asked for a little more information. I did expect that, seeing as it has only been six months since my last MRI, but the occasion for this MRI wasn’t going on then, and this occasion, with an objective measurement and diagnosis, requires that an MRI be done to try to ascertain a cause.
So okay, cool. The doctor sent the additional information to the drunken monkey nerve center (wow, was that called for? Yeah, what the hell) on Friday and the nice front line lady on her tour of duty on the phone said if she doesn’t get a call from the central office with a status report and to ask if she’s got Prince Albert in a can today, she’s going to take it out on them tomorrow. I am guessing that means she’s going to call right when the office opens, and talk really loudly so as to aggravate the hung over rep.
It blows, though. It makes my life harder — and seriously, I know I’m not being unreasonable getting on them about it, but I can’t get a line to the people who need to have the unreasonable brought down. The people who get the frustration are the people who seem to honestly be trying. I know figuring this out is going to take a (longer) time. The longer time shouldn’t be made even longer because someone is slow to start filling out a template with a physician’s request and hit the damn transmit button.