FREE AT LAST, FREE AT LAST

So, last week, I called my billing case worker and was like, "Hey, I sent in that last round of paperwork about a month ago and I haven't heard from you at all, so I was just calling to check in and see what the status is…"

I'm used to just not hearing anything, but she called me back today.

GREAT NEWS.

She approved my application for charity aid, and she said that the bill is taken care of. That I shouldn't receive any other bills (if I do, let her know), and that I'm wiped clean. I'd still prefer to get this in writing, but it looks like that $100k debt is no longer hanging over me.

I kinda wish that she didn't sound so bored and annoyed that she had to call me, like, "Yeah, I made the decision about a month ago. Sorry that I didn't return your call until now, psssshh whatevs."

All I've got left is the bill for the surgeons, which is about $9000, which is a lot, but is totally totally doable. Especially compared to $100000. Goddamn.

So, thanks again to everyone who helped! Love you all!

It's official!

I'm a medically indigent adult, thus unqualified for Medi Cal! That only took about 60 days to figure out!

Now I can apply for programs through the hospital! Whee!

A month of wellness!

What's it been? A month?

I've seen most of you in person by now—with my Wire watching nearly over, I'm pretty much up and around. I'm back at work now, still having some residual side effects, but mostly good.

And for all of you who helped, well, hopefully most of you have gotten your thank you cards by now. If you haven't, either it's on the way, you didn't give me a postal address, or I somehow totally munged things up in an opioid haze (I can only imagine how many thank you's I've sent to Mr. Goodbar inadvertantly).

In fun bureaucracy news, I've been assigned a Medi Cal eligibility officer, who will theoretically tell me whether or not I'm eligible at some point in the future. The letter I was sent said that I could only contact him at "the following times:" then left the blank unfilled. WAY TO GO! A PLUS!

So, still dealing with the bills, bills, bills, and facing a house with too much good stuff already, I'm going to be purging some stuff. I'll put up a list of books later—if you gave me a book while I was convalescing, I've likely read it (and thanks again). You can have them back if you'd like (save a couple I'll wheedle out of folks, but one of the perks of asking for trashy reading is not feeling guilty about holding onto it), otherwise I'll toss them up into a Radiohead "auction" (pay what you want, even if it's nothing) for divesting.

Thanks again for all the help through the worst of it, folks. Now we're going from acute to chronic, and I'll try to keep this updated.

I'm sorry, sir

In order to have UCLA start processing my bills with the uninsured cost mitigation apparatus (charities, lawyers, etc.), the woman at UCLA tells me that she needs a statement from Health Advocates that they've declined to assist me. Since my previous call with HA was pretty quick and painless, I assume this will be too. So, I google their phone number (since once again the numbers they provided me don't work), then call 'em. I get routed to the same case manager, I tell her that I need a written record of being denied there.

But according to the case manager, there is no possible way to send me a letter (or UCLA a letter) saying that I was denied. I don't have a problem with being denied—I don't meet their criteria. But it starts going pear-shaped when the case manager will only tell me that I've been denied verbally.

"You can't type up a letter that says that?"
"No. That's why I am advising you verbally that we are unable to help."
"So, you can't create any sort of written paper trail on that?"
"No, that's company information that we can't share with you."
"But you can share it verbally."
"Yes. That's why I'm telling you verbally."
"Why can't you give me a written notice?"
"I told you, sir, that we tell you verbally."
"Yeah, I heard that. That's saying that you can't do it, not why you can't do it. That's a different question."
"I am sorry sir, but we can't provide letters."
"I'm sorry, but that's nonsense. You physically can't type a letter?"
"What would it have in it?"
"That you declined to assist me. Just like you told me."
"Yes, sir, but I told you verbally."

In the end, she gives me the number for the liaison who works for Health Advocates at UCLA. So, in the end, Health Advocates seems quite less on the ball than they previously did. I mean, seriously, you can't find a bit of letterhead and send me a note?

New frontiers in Klang mobility

I drove yesterday, to the store! Which means that I can pretty much go anywhere you can fit with a crutch. Which is pretty sweet.

Now, off to swim!

The final bill

Today's mail brought me the bill from the hospital, and well, at least initial estimates were high. At the hospital, they told me that it'd probably run about $100,000; the bill is actually $70,758.56.

$30,000 here and $30,000 there, soon enough we're talking real money.

Checks and stuff

Just so y'all know, because apparently there's been some questions, if you sent me a check, the reason I haven't cashed it yet is because I need to show my broke-ass bank account to the hospital folks in order to qualify for aid. I'll have Amy start cashing the checks to her, and I'll get on the checks to me as soon as that's cleared up, but it may take another week or so.