So here's the thing: I can't concentrate on a single damn thing anymore. I can't sit still. I can't work on my book. Ironically, I can't clean the house (because I can't set myself on one task without wandering off to do something else). All I can do is worry and fret and chew my fingernails and wish that an adorable fairy would alight on my arm and tell me that she will cook me dinner, entertain the kids, clean the house, buy me new clothes, and repair a trachea.
While I await the fairy, I've been watching a helluva lot of television. In between phone calls to Medicaid. And in between helping our doctors write letters of medical necessity to Medicaid for various equipment/supplies/etc.
Would you like to know how the letters start off? Like this:
Ike-a-saurus Superstar has been a patient of mine since his birth. He was born at 28 weeks gestation, spent eight weeks in the neonatal intensive care unit (NICU) and has a history of severe GERD, aspiration of thin liquids, laryngomalacia, grade III subglottic stenosis and respiratory failure, requiring a tracheostomy.
Because of Ike-a-saurus' continued high-risk health status, critical airway (over 75% occluded), and issues with gastroesophageal reflux, dysphagia and failure to thrive, it is medically necessary for…
You can see how working on these things all day would weigh on a mama. Not to mention having to talk to 65 different Medicaid staffers on the phone, each of whom tell you something different, none of whom call you back when they say they will, and some of whom are rude for no reason other than because they seem to think I must be a moron, out to scam the system, or personally out to get them. The latter may be true if they don't start being nicer to me.
So… long week. But I did my best to make it not suck quite so hard. Here's how everything went down:
Then some Veronica Mars:
Then some Friday Night Lights:
Then some X-Files:
Major Medicaid shenanigans:
And then some 30 Rock:
No one from Medicaid ever called me back, so I took the kids out for drinks
And then out to walk it off (I don't know why this is sideways, I can't turn it around. Booo.):
And then my author copies of BRAINS FOR LUNCH came (again, WTF, sideways?):
So Friday was a bit better.
And now it's the weekend. I remain on my quest to track down as many Riggenscorns and Logancorns and Muldercorns and LizLemoncorns as I can. They are surely not as elusive as the tiny fairy who will solve all my woes, and they work quite nicely at distracting me.
Hooray for television!
And hooray this week is over!