As many of you know, I am a big fan of the Dr. Demento Show. For those of you not in the know...this is a radio show full of goofy music and just all out funny stuff. Granted, I haven't listened in a long time, but there was a time when I never missed it. It was the way I ended my weekend and prepared for the week ahead.
One of the most memorable songs played by the good doctor was "They're coming to take me away ah-haa!"
I bring this up because today...wait for it...I realized that it's become a battle for the survival. It's Elsie W or it's me. One of us is going to go insane and be carted off. Granted, she has a BIG head start on me, but I feel like I'm catching up.
See, last week was all about her car. That's a drama I'm saving for the book...which reminds me...have you voted for a title yet? The saga of her car repair is one that makes me laugh and makes me want to drink...heavily.
But that is NOTHING compared to the saga of her MRI. Before this is over and she actually has the test, they may be doing a full brain scan on me.
It was today that did it. Up until today, the woes of her back pain and the basic grievance she has against our new health plan (which is perfectly FINE, especially when you figure in the cost. Of course, she is also medicating her CAT with human meds, so that cost does add up.) was something she kept pretty much to herself, or behind the closed door of the conference room where she spent 95 minutes of her 60 minute lunch hour yammering at one unsuspecting customer service grunt or another. These calls almost always involved her calling information...and you know that makes me smile.
But not today. No, today, she arrived at work at 10:27. I can only assume, since her normal start time is 11, that she meant to get there at 10 because she's still trying to make up for all the work she "missed" during the saga of the car. (Believe me...it's hilarious.) However, by 11:02 she was in need of a break. So break she did, for about 15 minutes. Then, she asked, as she always does, when I planned on taking my lunch. I told her, as I always do, that I planned on taking my lunch at 1:30. And she said, as is fast becoming her habit, that she was going to take another "15 minute break to walk around the building."
That break lasted about 25 minutes.
When I got back from lunch at 3 (I work until 5...start at about 7:30, and allow myself two trips to the ladies' room. Ponder that.) she announced that she was taking "the rest of her lunch." Now, by my math, she had 20 minutes left. Which means I was not surprised at all when it took her that long to prepare the feast of food she calls lunch. (The rest of us know it as her third meal at work.)
THEN, she locked herself in the conference room where, for the next 90 minutes she could be heard shouting at someone about whether or not she needed to be preregistered for an MRI under our plan. (Those of you not familiar with the US medical care system, it is pretty much a RULE that you call ahead to make sure your care provider is going to cover whatever test or procedure you're having done if you're having it done at a hospital, as she was.) She, however, was of the opinion that she did not need the clearance because she "read it someplace in the book."
(I should note that on the back of our health care card it does say you need to preregister for any in or out patient procedure. I read that out loud to her, which gave her ammunition in her battle against the "idiots" she was talking to. How did she glean from what I read that she did NOT need to preregister? Read on.)
After 90 minutes, and just a short time before I was going to go home, she emerged from the conference room, only to sit down at her desk and dial her desk phone. At this point she held her cell to one ear and her desk phone to the other and spent the next 15 minutes shouting at two separate insurance companies at the same time.
At 5 PM, as I was waiting for my ride home, she showed no signs of slowing down. In fact, having read the back of my card, she was POSITIVE that she did NOT need preregistration for the MRI because...as she clearly explained..."AN MRI IS A TEST...not a procedure."
Right...I'm sure that's going to clear things up completely.
When I left, or rather fled, from the office, she was pacing back and forth in the show room, her hair a wild cotton candy cloud, and my copy of the insurance coverage book clung in her really red fake fingernails. (I hold out no hope that that hasn't been shredded and doused in coffee.) She was moving in to hour 3 of her rant against her former insurance company, her current insurance company, the clinic, and the hospital. I'm not sure who she had on the line when I ran out the door, but these words ring in my ears:
"OH MY GOD I'M GOING TO SHOOT MYSELF IN THE HEAD BECAUSE YOU ARE SUCH A GROUP OF INCOMPETENT IDIOTS!"
I relayed that to Hubby, right after I yelled, "DRIVE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DRIVE!" He suggested, the next time she says something like that, I quietly dial 911 and ask that someone come to take my coworker into protective custody.
Well, it's either that, or they're going to cart me away, curled in the fetal position, sucking my thumb.
|DROP YOUR INSURANCE CARD!|