I need a health care plan that covers the depression and anxiety caused by trying to understand my health care plan

That was on an e-card. And it is just SO fitting.

This is a venting sort of blog.

At the beginning of May, we received word that our insurance company and Stanford ended their contract. Or maybe that is when I learned about it. I can't remember. Either my mom and Randy knew about it a few days before I did, or my mom heard it might happen, or something. People kept trying to protect me from things. So my insurance and Stanford, not working together anymore. So where did that leave me and my surgery? I wasn't sure. The only logical thing there was left to do, was to have a COMPLETE meltdown. Have I mentioned that these meds make me a hormonal mess? So I cried for a while and we tried to figure out what it all meant.

Finally, my mom and Randy talked me down. And my mom said it's kind of like cable companies and networks and usually they go through these things and then they say "Just kidding, we are getting along now"... which whatever, ok, so if you are DirectTV and you say you aren't showing the Dodgers games anymore, fine, you pissed off A LOT of people but when you are an INSURANCE COMPANY and A HOSPITAL you are messing with SICK PEOPLE and PREGNANT LADIES and DYING PEOPLE and THIS IS NOT OK.

So....  we find out, the next week, that we can fill out these other papers to get my care extended for 180 days with Stanford since my surgery was already scheduled. So I filled out all of the papers and took care of everything and it was super annoying and a huge pain in the ass and whatever, but it was taken care of and I was told not to worry about it. I wasn't really sure what that meant for my post-op care, but at that point, as long as the surgery was taken care of, I was happy.

Then, last weekend, Randy shows me an email that says Stanford and our insurance have come to an agreement and renewed everything and everything is back on track! And I'm so relieved. That means the post-op will be handled and everything is going to be great. And then he says "Your paperwork for the surgery had been denied. I was in the middle of appealing it. But now we don't have to worry about it."

And I just looked at him.

I had so many emotions going through my body at that point. I was happy. I was relieved. I was shocked. Angry. Appalled. Upset. How could they deny it? Who the hell are they to decide? The doctor said I need it, so give me the damn surgery! And what sort of crazy ass man keeps that sort of burden to himself? He was carrying this weight on his shoulders and keeping it to himself hoping it would get appealed and if it didn't, then what? He's insane. I love him to death. He's amazing. He is incredible. And I'm so lucky to have him and I love him. And I just... I don't know. I love him. That's all I can say. I love him. That stupid, crazy man.

AND THEN- in the mail, we get a letter from Stanford, or the insurance, I can't remember at this point, saying the surgery has been approved. So now that everything is all better with the contract, everything is official and wonderful and better. AND WHAT THE HELL?

AGAIN, let's remember, these are sick people they are messing with. I am just so disgusted with the whole healthcare insurance situation right now that I had to vent about it for a minute. It's unbelievable. That's all.