Wednesday, July 1, 2015

The Insanity of some systems

About six years ago, when I was diagnosed with cancer, I was able to obtain ''third party reimbursement via Medicaid''- Medicaid paid the monthly premium for an Oxford plan. The Oxford plan reimbursed me for out-of-network services. This arrangement worked for about four years. It was marvelous- for the first time in my life I had access to quality care- yummmm. I was able to see a physical therapist who's a practitioner of ''myofascial release'', and it was so life-restorative. I was also able to see other amazing practitioners I'd otherwise not have access to. It was just amazing- I had private insurance, and Medicaid was covering the monthly premium.
Then, about two years ago Medicaid ''bumped me off'' and discontinued paying my premium.
A little bit of background: The surgery was on my neck and as a result of the surgery I was left with one functional vocal chord.
As a result of the one functional vocal chord, my swallowing mechanism functions less efficiently than is ''normal'', and drops of water drip into my windpipe.
As long as I had the treatments available to me via Oxford, all was fine. I was able to cough up the water on a daily basis.
Then, when Medicaid stopped the payments, I was unable to find a way to pay for the treatments that were helping me..... and so for the past two years the water has been drip dripping into my windpipe , and as my body is too weak (on account of the terror, I believe) to cough up the water, the water remains stuck inside.
In February of this year, the water in my windpipe was clogging the space, and my breathing was becoming more and more difficult. I realized that if I did not get help asap, this breathing difficulty was gonna be my kiss of death. So I mustered up whatever amount of courage was available to me, and I made an appeal on a local radio station. I described the situation to the audience, and the host did his piece, ''If you want to help Angel live, please support her. She's a single mom to three children, and too young to die. Her children need her to stay alive, so please let us help her''. Folks opened their hearts and wallets and the donations added up to a considerable sum, all of which went directly to a practitioner of ''breathing coordination'' and one of ''myofascial release'',
When I went to the breathing practitioner, he said something along the lines of, ''Angel, I have been at this work for 37 years, and my sense is that you do not have water in your windpipe- you have a tumor in there''.
For about two months, I had twice-weekly treatments with him, and I felt my body was coming back to life. He worked hands-on with my body's breathing mechanism, releasing my rib cage, releasing my spine, from the frozen posture they're in, on account of my constant state of terror. I was jumping for joy at having my breathing restored. My purple fingernails returned to their natural white color, and remained so throughout the time this practitioner worked with me.
I imagine if I would be relieved of the ongoing CPS/court drama, my body would make a complete u-turn. Yet the CPS/court/apartment issues are ongoing, and this means my body needs ongoing support.
When the donations were exhausted, I made another appeal on the radio, and this time, the response was about a hundred dollars. Hm - what a contrast to the response to my first appeal.
Realizing that I could not draw on the radio station's financial resources for ongoing breathing treatment, I proceeded to apply for ''home care'' from Medicaid. My thought was, ''If I can hire someone to be with me, and the person would be willing to make the calls on my behalf, advocate on my behalf, we may succeed in reeling in the money that would help me access ongoing breathing treatment''.
The other week, a rep from ''the city'' came to my home to evaluate me. My body had a terrifying response to her. I coughed non-stop on account of the cologne that was sprinkled on her. Today, another person came to evaluate me. A male. He's a nurse with an unusually tender heart. He wondered why a male was assigned to me. I told him I had requested a fragrance-free, cologne-free individual, and I guess it was a challenge to find a female who met my criteria. lol. He qualified me for care, on account of my breathing problem.
I told him that as long as I had quality insurance I had access to care that supported me.
So now I'm somewhat foncused. Medicaid is willing to pay for me to have in-home care, at the rate of approx. $12 an hour. If I add up the hours, and the amount of money they're willing to pay for my home care, I want to scream the question, ''Would you please resume payment of monthly premiums? If I can have the insurance back, I won't need the home care! And the premiums will cost you less money than the home care!''
End of rant.
Well, end of this rant and the start of another. A million rants reside in this body. Like the colorful streamer the magician pulls from its mouth....miles and miles of streamer...miles and miles of rants....
The new rant is about ''how the hell am I going to find people with whom my body can be totally at ease, and unwind from all the terror it has been storing for the past three plus years?''

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