the passionate ailurophile

…and You Won’t Come Back!

The story of Mike’s doctor’s appointment gets better. Go and grab a beer, cuppa joe, soda, or whatever. I’ll wait…

Mike was already stressed out from a difficult day at work when he went to Dr. Quackenstein’s office late this afternoon. That is the ONLY explanation for the shit the he agreed to while there. I knew that things were bad, very bad, when he came home with one of those plastic bags from The Hospital From Hell.

He agreed to a CATscan, to see if there is any more of the cancer that wasn’t there when he had the colonoscopy. They scheduled it for Thursday; they would have wanted to to it tomorrow, but Mike at least remembered that we’re going to the Garrison Keillor/Boston Pops show tomorrow night, so he let them schedule this for Thursday instead.

In the hospital bag was some fruit juice shit that he’s supposed to drink before the appointment. Also in there was the paperwork. I took that out and looked at it.

Me: You DO realize that when you show up for this CATscan, that you are being admitted to the hospital?

Mike: No, they didn’t tell me that.

Me: Look at this paperwork. You will be admitted, and if they find anything, or even think they see anything, they can keep you there until they are done with you, and you can’t get out. Remember how they threatened to not have our insurance pay the bill the last time you were there, if you left before a doctor officially released you?

Mike: No, I didn’t see that, but I remember that about the insurance.

Me: If they find anything…do you WANT to have surgery?

Mike: No. I’m sick of this shit.

Me: If they admit you for the CATscan, they can force you to have the surgery, or else the insurance won’t even pay for the CATscan. That’s what they kept telling us before. If you don’t want the surgery in the first place, why bother going in for the CATscan?

He thought about this for a bit, and realized that I was, once again, right.  If he was that worried about cancer, and was interested in having surgery, that is one thing.  But he has been saying, since the appendectomy last year, that he wasn’t going in for any further surgery, and that was that.  So why waste a precious day off to do it?  They ARE going to admit him for it, and NO, he won’t be able to be released if they find  (or claim to find) anything.  They will force the surgery on him by telling us that the insurance will not pay for ANYTHING unless we kiss the doctor’s ass and do EVERYTHING he says.

Maybe this is a lie, like all of the other 580,943,875 lies that Melrose-Wakefield Hospital has told us in the past.  But we really can’t afford to find out, a CATscan alone costs thousands of dollars that we don’t have.

I also think that the bitch at the doctor’s office lied to Mike about Cigna pre-approving this procedure.  Cigna doesn’t pre-approve ANYTHING, in fact, they go out of their way to get out of paying for shit.  We’ve been through this before.  Mike had told Dr. Q that one of the reasons he didn’t want part of his colon lopped off last year was because of all of the hell we went through getting Cigna to pay for past medical procedures.  Since Dr. Q KNEW this, he had his bitch at the desk pretend to call Cigna and tell Mike that it would all be paid for, the CATscan and all, it was already approved.  No fucking way in hell did she really call them and get an approval.  If they did, well, I have a bridge in Brooklyn to sell you, dirt cheap!

They also pushed him to agree to the procedure this week, to give him less time to change his mind.  No doubt in my mind about that.  But now Mike HAS had time to think, he sees that he was deceived about the whole being admitted to the hospital thing, and now he’s going to call tomorrow and cancel the thing.  He does NOT want surgery, he does NOT want to be admitted to the shithole, so why bother with the CATscan?

We know all too well the deceptive ways of these doctors, and this hospital.  They are liars and crooks, and they care about as much about people’s health as I care about whether or not they can afford a new Porsche this year.  Oh, THEY are the ones who care about getting a new Porsche!

I told him that if he really wanted to go in for all of this crap, he is on his own.  I refuse to set foot in that shithole again, I will not help him with his short term disability paperwork like I did before, I won’t do anything for him if he goes for this bullshit.  If he wants to fall for Dr. Q’s bullshit, that’s his problem, not mine.

Oh, and he “doesn’t remember” what phone number he gave out to these assholes.  I swear, if he gave out the home number, he is dead meat.  The last thing I need are these fuckwits calling and verbally abusing me again, as they did last year.  They called both my landline and cell phone, trying to get me to talk him into unneeded surgery, gave me shit for allegedly not giving Mike phone messages (not true, I did, but they refused to call him at work as I told them to).

If they do call me tomorrow, I swear, they will be met with such a barrage of obscenities that they will be sorry they ever dialed this number.  Go the fuck away and leave us alone already!

I hate all of these motherfuckers with every fiber of my being.  They lie, cheat, and try to rob us of every damned dime we have.  They do nothing for Mike’s health except stress him out more…but that can make them even MORE money, right?

The ball is in his court now, he can cancel the CATscan and the other shit they want to do, or he can be their victim and spend the rest of what was shaping up to be a nice summer in jail.   All I know is that if he chooses the latter, I won’t be doing time with him.