Insurance

I’m supposed to have a breast MRI today. Wait. Let’s back up. I was supposed to have a breast MRI last Friday. Alas, it was rescheduled due to insurance not deeming it necessary and wanting a peer to peer consult with my doctor. And now I’m waiting to find out if the peer to peer review changes their (the insurance company’s) opinion on whether the test is medically necessary.

Huh.

Insurance companies kind of suck. I realize they’re a business but honestly, those in charge probably have no idea what an actual person experiences when they go through what I went through in the past year.

I am not saying my experience with cancer and the treatments and tests and recovery and the subsequent fears and worries and stressors are worse than anyone else who has been through this. In fact, I’m pretty sure my experience has been fairly typical.

But I don’t think insurance companies get it. Those in charge seem to take the human factor out of the equation and only worry about the dollar signs.

It makes me sad and it makes me mad.

Can you put a price on peace of mind?

A person shouldn’t have to go into debt to get and stay healthy, both physically and emotionally/mentally.

Back to the MRI. I saw my surgeon back in August. He did his usual exam and decided that since Leftie is still swollen and the skin is firmer than Rightie, an MRI should be done. See, we can’t actually feel much in Leftie because of the firmness of the skin and the swelling from everything it’s been through. A physical exam doesn’t do much to detect any potential bad stuff. My surgeon is great. My insurance…is not.

They are saying that since I haven’t had any other test, other than a physician’s exam, to give us reason to think something might be wrong, the MRI isn’t necessary.

Let’s stop for a minute and think about this. My insurance doesn’t think we have any reason to think something might be wrong. Even though I just went through what was quite possibly the worst year of my life. Even though I’ve HAD A FREAKIKNG CANCER DIAGNOSIS, they don’t think there’s a valid reason to pay for an MRI.

The insanity of that makes me want to scream. Would they rather pay for an MRI that could detect something early enough to necessitate another lumpectomy or wait and later pay for a freaking double mastectomy because I’m telling you, if I have another cancer diagnosis, that’s where we’re going. I’m getting both Leftie and Rightie lopped right the hell off and then insurance can pay for reconstruction along with the surgery to get rid of these two abominations hanging from my chest.

Whew. Okay, deep breath.

I don’t currently know the final decision. I guess I should call the f*#^ down and wait to hear from someone, be it my doctor’s office, the imaging center’s scheduling department or, heaven forbid, my insurance company. They never bother actually communicating with ME, the actual patient who is enduring all their bullshit.

I’m good most of the time with being all positive and planning for my 50th birthday, which will be a big one since it will be three years from the time of diagnosis and if I get to three years without the cancer coming back, my chances of ever coming back are very slim. (See: Triple Negative Breast Cancer statistics.) But sometimes, mostly at night, in the dark when I’m hurting somewhere in my body I’m convinced that it’s already back, that the day after we stopped chemo, the cancer started growing again, either back in Leftie or somewhere in Rightie or even down in my lower back, on the right where it just aches sometimes. I’m just sure I only have a couple more years with my girls and I need to get as much loving and living in while I can, while I’m not spitting up blood and losing my hair again and slow (or quickly, depending on how depressing I want to be) declining, sleeping more and more, slipping away from everyone and everything I love.

They need me to be strong. They need me to be HERE, with them, guiding them, loving them, making them laugh, making memories that will sustain them even if the worst happens.

And if it takes a freaking MRI to keep me here, then damn it, my stupid insurance company needs to get with the program.

End rant.
Update: The MRI was approved. I know! I was shocked too. And impressed with my doctor's persuasive abilities. I pray that if the MRI finds anything, it's early, like last time...