Saturday, January 19, 2008

The call from Jennifer Bette

We finally made contact with each other.It has been fully one month since I made contact with the hospital to ask the question of how much. She said that the surgery would be 5000, but she had a few more costs to nail down. This is a way for her not to be pinned down to the figure of 5000.
Maybe I'm wrong. But for it to take this long to get a price, and that price not really complete, well, can we say that she knows I have to go through her hospital to get it through insurance so she has me hooked anyway. Boy what great customer service.
I called Dr. Corbyon's office to schedule the next appointment. This means a road trip on Feb. 14th for another consult and then the surgery on the 26th of that same month.
The cocktail of drugs that I am on just barely keeps me going. Wanting to cry sometimes, for no reason, seeing in my thoughts a paring knife slitting my arm and blood, are just some of the thoughts. I also dwell on family members dying. And what if senarios that drive me nuts. I back off and mentally know that I can't live like that. What happens, happens. It's the blood and crying, and the wanting to run away from it all that gets me.
I know I have it good. On the outside. Good family, and work, and friends. On the inside I go through the blood, the desparate scenes of devastation, and the loss of hope for any change. The lag time for a return call and information on the price is just typical of how the drugs treat me. They lag and come up short when under stress. So I have to try to eliminate as much stress as possible. This is hard, because everything is a stressor of some sort.



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