Unicornucopia.org

I cried. A lot.

Another disappointment.

I know that I keep trying to say "It will happen when it happens" but this
cuts the time I'll have to lose weight and recover before faire in half.
*sigh* So I have an appointment with my GP on Monday afternoon to start this
three months. Yay...or whatever.

After my surgery is done, and all that I have left is follow up work, I am
writing a letter to my surgeon about his Program Director. The man was
insensitive, accusatory, and outright lied to me yesterday to cover his own
butt, and he not only put me into tears, but created an after-effect of fury
on my part. The conversation went thusly:

Me: I'm calling to see if we've heard anything on my claim from the
insurance company yet.
Him: It hasn't been sent yet.
Me: Why not?
Him: I'm still waiting for that last bit of paperwork from you.
Me (incredulous): What last bit?
Him: The paperwork from your doctor about the diet plan.
Me: I thought that you had all of my records from my doctor?
Him (starting to get abrasive): I have your records, but there's nothing in
there about the three months.
Me: What three months?
Him (as though explaining to an idiot): The three months that you were on a
diet plan while seeing the nutritionist.
Me (close to tears and in shock): You never said I needed to do that.
Him (totally defensive and accusing me now): Yes, I did. I have it in my
notes right here.
Me: No, you didn't. If you had, I'd have done it.
Him: Yes, I did. I'll send you another paper with the checklist and you can
do what you need to...
Me (interrupting a bit angrily): I don't want a checklist. Just tell me
right now what else I need. I need three months visits to the doctor. Is
there anything else?
Him (very shortly): No. Nothing else.
Me (trying not to cry and not to reach through the phone and strangle him):
Fine. I'll make an appointment. Thank you.

Some people have photographic memories, I have an audiographic one. When I
choose to do so, I can remember entire conversations word for word,
including where we were and what we were doing at the time. He never never
told me that I had to have the three months. I specifically asked him two
and a half weeks ago if he had everything he needed and he specifically told
me yes, and that he would be writing up the summary and sending it to the
insurance company either that day or the following Monday. In the past two
and a half weeks he has not called once to follow up on why he hadn't
received what he claimed he's been waiting for. Not once. If that's all he
needed, and he knew he needed it, why didn't he call or have one of the
girls in the office call, to ask where it was after a week or two had gone
by without it arriving? And as far as I'm concerned "too busy" is not an
excuse. No, he shouldn't have to chase down every bit of documentation from
every patient, but when you're waiting for one thing and you know that the
person has been very quick about getting you everything else, wouldn't you
follow up with them so you could get the claim off your desk? I would.

I don't like him. I don't like the feeling of condescension that he's
treated me with more than once. I don't like that I get the feeling that he
feels like the fatties he works for should be grateful that he's putting
himself through the trouble of getting this stuff done and surgeries
scheduled.

He should be grateful that we're paying his salary!

So, I'm angry. And he's ugly. The worst kind of ugly there is. He's
soul-ugly.

But there were good things yesterday, too. And Katja gave me a shoulder to
cry on after we finished the house stuff (and half a bottle of wine to wash
away my sorrows). And I will continue onward in my quest to be healthy, and
none of the jerks in the world will stop me.

And when it's done, I'm letting his boss know what I feel.