Three Thoughts and a Recipe

three things struck me at the pool today:

1. i am really pleased that the young co-ed behind the counter at the DU rec center took the initiative to organize all of the lost ID cards and made a note in each of the delinquent card-holder's files.
it saved me $10.
i assured him that it was that kind of "go get 'em" attitude and "can do" spirit that will secure him a job and many promotions. i left out the part that first he has to figure out what he wants to do with his life and that that can take years. and once he becomes passionate about something, it actually gets worse, because then he has something to be disappointed about when he realizes how difficult it can be to find a real job.
i didn't want to burst his bubble, so for now i allowed him to bask in his ID card organizing skills.

2. at the end of my work out, i was able to pull myself out of the deep end of the pool without:
a) swimming over to the edge and using the ladder
b) hoisting myself face first onto the pool deck and bruising my thighs.

i actually grabbed onto the starting block, stood all the way up, and just stepped out.

it has been about a year since my doctor began treating me for chronic fatigue and fibromyalgia. i am very grateful that all of our hard work and time is beginning to pay off. (more on this later)

3. i love that there is a 50+ woman at my pool who swims (a full workout, not just playing around) in a string bikini.
swim cap.
goggles.
and a string bikini.
fabulous!

cellulite and jiggly tummy not withstanding, this woman struts her stuff! it makes me smile! may we all be so confidant and in love with ourselves and our bodies!
go go go!!!!

and now . . .

cara's chicken parmesan:
i don't use recipes . . . so here we go.

take two chicken breasts.
beat the crud out of them until very thin.
take two thin pieces of nice, dense bakery bread.
throw in the food processor to make coarse crumbs.
take two eggs whites and put them into a shallow bowl.
into another shallow bowl, place bread crumbs, a large handful or two of shredded parmesan cheese, a thumb-sized dollup of fresh basil (i like the wet kind in the tube), 2 garlic cloves.
learn how to spell dollup.
mix ingrediants together.

coat chicken . . . alternate between egg whites and bread/cheese mixture.
coat twice.

heat skillet with olive oil coating the bottom.
cook chicken until golden and cooked all the way through.

place on pan. top with tomato sauce from a jar and sliced fresh buffalo mozzarella.
place under broiler until bubbling.

enjoy

Disgruntled Rant

In the midst of being sick, I have somehow perserved my ability to think (at least somewhat) clearly and continue to maintain my ability to organize and keep track of information. As I wade through a sea of paperwork and out-of-network bills from multiple doctors and labortories, I feel empathy for those who face this daily, for years, and do not have the stamina or support to make sense of these papers. I feel sick to my stomach as I imagine 90 year old women trying to make sense of the Explanation of Benefits for her husband's healthcare. I could vomit if I think too long about her on the phone with a customer service agent, trying to understand why she has not seen any correspondance regarding her claim that she sent in four months ago.

Here I am, day three (or maybe four) or trying to track down payments from my insurance company for treatments, doctors visits, and medications. I just got taken off of hold and spoke to the woman I will endearingly refer to as Agent B. She was checking with Karen, Agent A, who I spoke with for over 30 minutes last week. I was simply calling to follow up on the re-submittion of SEVEN claims that somehow failed to be keyed into her system when I mailed them in last December.

Okay, Agent B just got back to me.
Apparently Karen had no idea what she was talking about.
And now I am on hold again.

I have now been on the phone for 29 minutes with Anthem. The claims I discussed with Karen last week . . . the claims she said where not keyed into her system . . . but that she found the "hard copies" of . . . the claims she said she would re-send to be reviewed for out-of-network reimbursement . . . those claims, apparently do not exist anymore.
They actually were never sent in.
Imagine that.

Isn't that amazing!
Claims that existed last week . . . that were held in the hands of a disgruntled custormer service agent named Karen, just last week, actually do not exist anymore.
I had no idea they were able to back into time and erase the existance of a material object.
Wow.
They should be using their powers for a lot more than filing insurance claims.

So, now I wait to speak to "a supervisor". I look forward to this conversation.

I have now been on hold for 4 minutes, anticipating our conversation.

I read an article a few years ago in Real Simple Magazine about what really goes on behind the scenes in customer service departments.

The reaility is that while Agent B was "checking with Karen" about my paperwork (that is capable of breaking the time-space continuim), she might have more likely been taking a coffee break. And this "supervisor" I am about to speak to . . . most likely the woman that Agent B is currently shooting the breeze with over a cup of instant coffee grains and some room temp water.

The moral of the story in the Real Simple article was this: be as sweet as honey when you speak to a customer service representative.
Because your destinay lies in their hands.

After 12 minutes, I was informed that after a long, heart-felt conversation with "the supervisor" they found the claims and guess what - even the notes in my computerized file documenting that the claims HAD in fact been sent in to be processed. Amazing! Just moments ago, she read to me straight from the same file stating that the claims had not been sent in and that the case was closed.

Great.
Settled.
The claims have been sent in and are existing in a sort of paperwork purgatory for the next 30 days (does that mean 22 for me, since I am positive Karen sent them in promptly 8 days ago when we spoke!?) and that is the reason she could not track them down in her system.

Now I need to speak to somebody about my perscription reimbrusements.
No problem.

I have been transfered to Perscription Claims.
Guess who answered the phone?
Client advocacy.
Turns out Perscription Claims does not actually have a phone number that receives calls.
Nope.
She will now transfer me back to the original team who is helping me with my medical claims.
Okay.

Now I have been on hold for five minutes anticipating the reconnection with Karen and Agent B.

Guess what?
I get to give ALL of my information all over again.
This time to Agent C.
She asks for the dates of each and every medication I am inquiring about.
I list the first one.
And then I apologize in advance for my crankiness.
I really had been as sweet as honey. . .
up until this most recent transfer
and please excuse me because I have now been on the phone with your company for 50 minutes and nothing has really been resolved yet.

Silence.

I continue on, listing each perscription.

Turns out the perscription reimbursement check was distrubuted to me months ago.
Yes, I vaugely remember a check in the amount of $41 and some odd cents.
I apologize, Agent C, for wasting your time.
That was my mistake.
I must have somehow, in all of this paperwork, managed to get a little confused.

55 minutes and 46 seconds of my life.
And then we are finished.
There is silence on the other end.
None of the scripted: "thank you for choosing anthem. is there anything else I can do to help you today? have a great day!"
nope.
I thanked Agent C and wished her a great day.

All I heard from her, "You too."

Gee, thanks.

Sometimes . . .

Sometimes
It snows.
For weeks on end.
And you're are not used to that.
Because even though you live in Colorado
It doesn't really snow that much in Denver
At least not THAT much.

And your body hurts.
All the time.
Because let's face it . . .
You are sick.
And that makes you sicker.
But it is true.

You have lots of little infections
that somehow jumped into your body.
It isn't your fault really . . .
I mean, who gets Lead Poisoning and Lyme Disease on PURPOSE?
Nobody.
That's who.

There I said it.
Did you catch that?
I ever so subtly slipped in two of my little illnesses.

I walk through life . . .
sometimes behaving like I'm sick . . .
because I AM sick . . .
but pretending that I'm not . . .
because I don't want to be sick.

But sometimes you turn 25 and you get tired
and your body aches
and you don't want to return any of your phone calls
even to your friends
and you can't think clearly anymore
not like you used to.
you're brain feels foggy and murky.
and you are certain you have a brain tumor.
and you tell your sister this while hiking through the mountains
even though you should probably be sipping tea somewhere
but you won't
no, not for at least two or three more years.
because you just won't slow down.
why would you?

you continue to work your crazy therapy job
dealing with clients you are not yet qualified to deal with
in the name of "helping the underdog"
by providing inexpensive therapy. . .
and because you are too tired to research your options
and find another job.
but that doesn't strike you as odd.
you just assume everyone is too tired to find another job
even though they are exhausted.

and on the weekends,
you babysit to pay for your high-rollin' lifestyle
that requires things like
paying rent on time
and gas for your car
and eating.
you know, luxuries.
things that your $12/hr with a master's degree won't pay for.
and you don't mind.
sure a bigger paycheck would be nice, but you just figure this is all a part of life.

clearly, you are making really good choices for your life at this point.

and sometimes your digress.
because you have a brain tumor . . .

ANYWAY, you tell your sister about this brain tumor
as your hike through the forest.
because it couldn't be anything else.
i mean, when did you have to start pausing between words
because you can't think of the next one?
clearly, the word-chooser-part of your brain is broken.
with a tumor.
and your sister . . .
oh, she teases you.
endlessly.
because sometimes that is just what sisters do . . .

so you have this "tumor" and it is really too bad
because
you used to be so smart
and you don't feel smart anymore
and you can't pick out the words that you are grasping for
and you used to have such a nice vocabulary.

So you do what any exhaustsed, worn out individual would do:
you start a book group to reclaim your vocabulary!
And you just chalk it all up to being a little misplaced
and even a little depressed
from finishing graduate school
and turning 25
and all of a sudden being an adult for the first time in your life.

But that was almost five years ago.

Turns out somewhere along the line
you must have eaten paint chips
and forgotten about it.

Note to self:
Don't eat anymore paint chips.

And sometimes
even if you weren't sick
you DO just feel a little depressed
and that's okay
you aren't apologetic about that.

i mean come on . . .
you are a Christian so you know
this was NOT the life we were designed to live . . .
at least not ALL of the life we were designed to live.
and that IS depressing.
it SHOULDN'T feel "right".

But even though sometimes your are okay with being depressed,
Sometimes, it makes you even more depressed.
And sometimes, you even start to despise yourself for it a little bit.
Okay, a lot of bit.

And sometimes you know
That all of this crap that you are and that you feel
Is not real
It is not true
Sometimes you know that it is all a veil.
It is covering something that is more real.
Things like joy and kindness peak out from random corners and dark crevices.
Creative things pour out of your brain and your mouth.
And you know there is more.

And sometimes that depresses you because you can't seem to grasp the "more"
But sometimes
It brings just enough hope.

And then
Sometimes.
Just sometimes,
After the ground has been covered in snow for a full month,
You look outside of your window
For no reason at all
And you see
Grass.
Flat, tired, wilty green-ish grass.
But grass none the less.
And you cry.
Because you had forgotten that
While the snow may come . . .
While it might pile itself real high up all around you . . .
It melts.
And there is grass beneath it.


(*a fun song recommendation for today . . . well, okay, not fun . . . actually kind of melodramatic . . . but quite insightful and clever and sometimes, if you are feeling overwhelemed by a month's worth of snow . . . very comforting . . . because somebody else feels that way too . . . check it out!)

By the way . . . the song isn't really about snow or february or wood chopping or flower bulbs . . . . and neither was this post.