When I get angry, really angry, I get a little ball of fire in my chest, and it makes me want to lash out, physically. Never at a person. I don't want to HIT people. But once, I hit the wall with a belt. Another time, I threw a banana. SEVERAL times, I threw phones. I've broken many phones, actually.

I think the last time I remember throwing a phone, I was in CA, and a single mom, and living paycheck to paycheck. I had just gotten paid, and therefore had plenty of money to go grocery shopping, pay my bills, etc. Yet, when I went to the grocery store, my card was declined. I called the bank to find out what was going on, and they told me that they randomly selected my check for a hold. A 2 week hold. On a PAYROLL check. They said, "oops, sorry, didn't know it was a payroll check, but the hold's on it now, so, too bad." (I'm pretty sure it's illegal to put a hold on a payroll check. It was in CT, I know that.)

I was so angry, I threw the phone from one corner of a relatively large room into the TOP edge of the wall on the opposite corner. HARD.

I mean, come on. I had to buy fucking GROCERIES.

And no, I didn't have credit cards. I had canceled them ALL after post-divorce necessities (i.e., rent and full time childcare before I found a full time job) ran them up toward $30K, and I only was able to pay them off b/c an uncle died. I was done living above my means.

That's the last time I threw a phone.

Today, I almost did it again.

I held it tight, with my knuckles white, and I said 'FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK!' a thousand times.

I didn't throw. I held it tight. And I took deep breaths.

And I opened up my Contracts notes.

And I said "fuckfuckfuckfuck"

Then I called:

Hello, Insurance Company. This is Zuska. I just received the notice that you've denied the claim for my daughter's orthodontic work, which was thought necessary by her dentist and orthodontist as a medical procedure because her front tooth is trapped in her fucking gums [no, wait, i didn't say fucking], and so we applied for approval for dental insurance to cover the procedures required. This claim was denied. The problem is, the claim that was denied is in the name of my other daughter WHO HAS NEVER BEEN TO THIS FUCKING DENTIST IN HER ENTIRE LIFE. [no, wait, I was still calm].

Insurance company lady clucked sympathetically at me, and said:

oh yes, you are right, that would explain why we had no x-rays and no medical records and no doctor reports and no ANYTHING on file for her, and so that IS in fact, why it was denied. I'm sorry. The only thing you can do is have your dentist resubmit the claim. And, no, we can't expedite it, it wasn't our fault, it was the dentist's fault.

BUT IT HAS BEEN 10 FUCKING WEEKS, HER TEETH ARE GETTING WORSE, I HATE YOU!

No, I didn't say that. I pushed the "talk" button and again wandered from room to room saying fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

J hates her teeth. She is sad about the state of her teeth on a daily basis. There is of course the constant hope that since she is only 9, her teeth will get better on their own, but you see, they aren't getting better. They're getting worse. She's this gorgeous amazing kid who has to feel like she's NOT gorgeous or amazing, b/c she spends all her time trying to hide her fucking TEETH from the world. First she had a surgery to get an "extra" tooth removed, and the dentist in her Father's state felt that once that was removed, everything else would slide into place. But they did not. So I took her to the dentist, and we started this in February, what with the x-rays and the follow ups and the other baby teeth being pulled and the this and the that ....

(see? beautiful and amazing and gorgeous)

we were told 4 weeks.

It's been 10.

And I wanted her to have her braces ON before she left for the summer, so the braces could start to work (hopefully moving the blocking tooth to its rightful place so the blocked tooth can come down - also hopefully correcting her overbite, even a little, since that's not the goal of these braces - that will be left to the later braces, when she's in 7th grade, or something), and if it turned out that she needs another surgery (to put braces on the stuck tooth in order to pull it down into the land of sunshine), it could happen before she starts school.

But now that's impossible.

I called the dentist's office all afternoon. I called the right department about 100 times and left messages, but they didn't call me back. I think that the administrative offices are already in the summer "Fridays off" mode that takes over in Boston. Then I called the wrong departments, and told them that I was wondering if they were closed, since no one was answering their fucking telephones. They said "no, what do you mean?" They gave me another number, and so I left 15 more messages.

I am trying to come to terms with the timing of everything. Since we only got our answer today, on June 22, the chances of her getting all the prep for braces done AND the braces put on before she leaves on 7/6 are pretty slim. So even if today's letter said yes ... it wouldn't have happened before she leaves for 4 weeks. Hopefully I'll be able to fight and argue and bitch and moan while she's gone, and get the dentists office to at least expedite as much as they can, and hopefully have approval in hand before she gets home.

I am so mad at this dentist's office, which is one the few covered by current insurance, that I 1/2 just want to stop. We're going to be on ridiculously fantastic insurance come the fall with my new job (as opposed to the current shitty insurance), and I will likely switch providers then. But I don't know if she can wait - I was told by at least one person that there's a risk that if her tooth stays in the gum, it will start to break down. It needs to come out and play.

I am not a happy momma.

Labels: *J*, anger, dentists, insurance, stress

posted by Zuska @ 4:47 PM

2 Comments:

At Sunday, June 24, 2007 4:08:00 PM, Anonymous said…

jeez, that sucks.

I hate insurance companies.

And this is what I would do. I would write the dentist a nice letter with lots of legalese and rail about the error. I would further tell them that if anything happens as a result of their error, that you will hold them responsible for damages. And I would further copy the insurance company on the letter.

And I'd tack on an "Esq" at the end of your name, which I normally think is terribly rude but every now and again gets some attention.

And I'd fax it.

And then I'd have a martini.
At Tuesday, June 26, 2007 8:58:00 PM, Lawyer Mama said…

That would so piss me off too. And I agree with Kelly's approach. Sometimes you've just got to pull out that title and scare the piss out of people. Or at least get them to do their damn jobs.