Wednesday, September 16, 2009

RETRO 5.21.2004

Hey Dudes, I found a very early RETRO entry from back when I was first diagnosed. This is a few weeks after having to stay at the hospital for the first time. I stayed for eight days and I did not have insurance. The bills started coming in the mail and I had a follow up appointment at my doctor's office. I was able to pay for it with something called Charity Care and with my parents help, but it still was a struggle. I didn't handle it well... I freaked out because I had no money and I was too sick to work.

(This was originally written on 2004. And I can tell that it was written by a much younger [and annoying] version of myself. Yikes! I'm such a cry baby!)

Got back from the doctor... Man... having no insurance really is a dent on the wallet.... They let me off easy by taking $20 off the co-pay the last two times but refused it this time.

The secretaries were nasty bitches and they made me cry. I cried and cried and cried. And then I cried and cried and cried to the doctor. I managed to have my bill lowered almost 50%. I feel like shit for doing so... but seriously... If I can cry my way out of a bill... I'll do it because these are really too much.. For example. WITHOUT insurance: 1 bottle of medication comes out to $200 dollars already. The hospital bill? I could've owned a luxury car by now... And this is money I don't have. I need to find a real job... and fast. Bleah... it seems I am better off dead than to be drowning in all these bills. I wish I never had gotten sick.

I didn't write this down, but I remember that day pretty clearly. I was very emotional because after my appointment, the doctors and secretaries were being very nasty because they realized I didn't have insurance. They were unwilling to help me any further. I was frustrated, angry, and immature. When I was escorted back to the lobby, I trashed the place by throwing the pamphlets and displays all over the place, messed up the chairs, spat on the carpet, and slammed the door as I left. I wouldn't normally do something like that, but I was a different person considering all of the circumstances: I had prednisone pumping through my veins, sleep deprived, starved, weak, and broke. I was a bomb ready to explode. I'm embarrassed to admit that this happened. Coming to terms with this disease is not easy. Remember, at this time there is no cure and no known origin so there will be a lot of frustration. There will be times when you reach that dark place and unpredictable things can happen.

If I could go back in time, I would warn myself. I would tell myself to count to 10, then breathe and relax. Find solutions and ask questions instead of acting out in rage. Live and learn. Stay optimistic.


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