On Friday I received a letter from my insurance company saying that
my doctor will no longer accept my insurance, so I need a new primary
immediately. My doctor, in other words, was no longer my doctor. Oy.
I love my doctor. He's a guy who treats me respectfully while really fixing my problems. I think of him as a miracle worker. And he's not a drug pusher. He usually comes up with a non-medication-based solution to my problems. I love that! (As to the "respect" issue, I've had trouble with anti-gay doctors who treat me dismissively. Tattoos are also something that can freak out white doctors and make them think you're a drug-mad biker -- even though you never ask them for a pain killer. Oy again.)
There was also a good chance that I would lose all my doctors, since they're part of the same medical practice that I was being told wouldn't take my insurance. And I'm just about to begin a long period of allergy treatments with one of them. And again, I love this doctor. She fixed my severe breathing problems in two short visits. Another veritable miracle worker -- and now I can't see her either?!
Okay, so that's the background. You'd think I would worry all weekend, what with this prospect blowing in the wind. But I didn't think about it at all. Not even once. My take on life is that you don't worry about anything until you're really, really forced to address the issue. So I had a lovely weekend. Even painted my nails candy apple red. Fun!
This
morning, I remembered and called my doc's office. They said further
negotiations between the medical practice and my insurance company
resolved the issue. I can stay with my doc(s).
There was no need to worry. I find this is usually the case. The moral is this: don't worry until you have to. It's often a waste of time and energy.
I love my doctor. He's a guy who treats me respectfully while really fixing my problems. I think of him as a miracle worker. And he's not a drug pusher. He usually comes up with a non-medication-based solution to my problems. I love that! (As to the "respect" issue, I've had trouble with anti-gay doctors who treat me dismissively. Tattoos are also something that can freak out white doctors and make them think you're a drug-mad biker -- even though you never ask them for a pain killer. Oy again.)
There was also a good chance that I would lose all my doctors, since they're part of the same medical practice that I was being told wouldn't take my insurance. And I'm just about to begin a long period of allergy treatments with one of them. And again, I love this doctor. She fixed my severe breathing problems in two short visits. Another veritable miracle worker -- and now I can't see her either?!
Okay, so that's the background. You'd think I would worry all weekend, what with this prospect blowing in the wind. But I didn't think about it at all. Not even once. My take on life is that you don't worry about anything until you're really, really forced to address the issue. So I had a lovely weekend. Even painted my nails candy apple red. Fun!
There was no need to worry. I find this is usually the case. The moral is this: don't worry until you have to. It's often a waste of time and energy.
