So, today was a fun day. Spent the first 20 minutes or so at work in the copy room, huddled over the shred bin, talking (read: sobbing) on the phone with Julie about Mark and Rachel, while random employees came in to make copies, and then returned with tissues.
I love my life.
Good thing I had Ativan at work, because I popped two at once around 10:00, which dried me out and I seemed to be doing fairly well until about 3:00.
Which was exactly when my phone rang.
My sweet little scheduling girl was calling to let me know there had been a problem with my insurance approval and we needed to reschedule my PET.
Insert deep, ugly, raspy sigh here...
Why? Why, I asked, did it not get approved? And how had it happened AGAIN that we didn't know until the day before the scan that the approval didn't come through? ... I told her that I knew she was just the one stuck making the call, and I wasn't mad at her, but I needed to know why/how this kept happening because this was not okay. That I am not okay, and I need this scan now.
Poor little thing. She was not expecting me to have a high-speed-come-apart. (Clearly.) She asked if she could put me on hold... and then came back about five minutes later to tell me she didn't want to keep me on hold, but she would do what she could to work it out to get me scheduled for a PET Friday morning, and a followup Friday afternoon.
Not best case scenario, but... it's better than waiting a week. So, whatever.
About 30 minutes later, my phone rang again. She was all apologies for the false alarm. My scan is back on for tomorrow morning. She talked to scheduling, and it was too late to make any phone calls. She wasn't sure what to do, so she walked back to Dr. Homsi's office and explained the situation to him. She said, "He picked up the phone and called the insurance company himself. He gave them hell... and they approved it."
As per the scheduler, I owe this appointment to my good doctor doing verbal battle with the insurance company. Again. (I hate that he has to call to get me approved for a routine scan, but I looooove that he does call and he does get me approved. Dr. Homsi is the man!) She gave all the credit for this getting worked out to Homsi, and said, "You'll have to give him a hug when you see him, because this was all him."
I said "Oh, I'd give that man a whole heck of a lot more than a hug... if he'd just let me near him." She laughed out loud. I may or may not have double dog dared her to tell him I said that. (She knows that I'm ridiculous flirty with him, and said she wished she could come in to the room and listen to our conversation.)
Friday's appointment should be fun. (Who's kidding who? They ALWAYS are!)
As for me and my house, we are just so (super, duper, incredibly) grateful that tomorrow is still scan day. I need this week to be over. I need this PET done, I need results. I need them this week.
The lack of sleep and general pain about my bellybutton is getting to be too much. Tonight, I went to a movie with a group of friends, and then spent a good 45 minutes after the movie, talking to a friend while I literally soaked his shirt with my tears. ... And wiped my own boogers off with my sweater. (I tried to keep the tears on his clothes and the boogies on mine - but I'm not sure if I was 100% successful.) I am tired of being tired. I am tired of wondering if this is only a hernia, or all kinds of bowels gone wrong. Or worse. I am tired of being on the verge of tears at all moments of every day. ... In short, I am tired.
And, thanks to my blessed Dr. H, because he is exactly the kind of doctor who'll pick up a phone and give an insurance company hell... the end is in sight. This is why I love him. (The dreamy accent and fabulous looks are some perks, to be sure, but at the end of the day... he is a doctor and I am his patient - and he makes sure I get what I need. And I love him for that more than I'll ever love him for looking good in a lab coat . .... Which, btw, he can rock like none other..)
So, tomorrow's the day that I get injected with radiation and they take colorful pics of my innards. Friday, I'll get the results. ... Be looking forward to that!