However, things are looking up. So we'll start at the bottom and head for higher ground, okay?
1. The insurance saga continues... when I emailed them the new information they wanted on Monday I included a request for whoever received the message to take SECONDS and email me back, so I would know they had what they needed from me. I got an automated response promising me that emailed documents are pulled through the day, and would be in someone's hands within 24 hours.
So I called again this morning, to check the progress on that. If the phone could give me a blank stare, that's what I got.
I'll spare you the sordid details, but the real low point was a man in the Coordination of Benefits office telling me I was at fault for not providing complete information, and I would have to re-start the process of getting the surgery authorized, and that means getting back at the end of a long, long line, and authorization for surgery in one week? When pigs fly.
He didn't like the way I talked to him, so at least we had that in common.
But he did transfer me back to the Eligibility office where an ANGEL answered the phone. (And I'm not just saying that in case Lisa ever reads this. Hi Lisa!)
By that point I'd been on the phone for forty-seven minutes, and had enough stress to send a herd of elephants on a rampage, and started to cry. Hello humiliation.
But guess what? She fixed the problem. She not only fixed it, she gave me her direct (work) email to communicate through; she called Children's herself and got everything settled with their financial people; and called AND emailed me back to reassure me that we are
GOOD TO GO.
That's a little inside joke, for any of you who've seen the movie Contact - a family fave, in the Grasshopper house.
2. Which means...
7 DAYS TO SURGERY!
Yes, we are camping on that GOOD news, because...
3. I think Tate also needs a new Hearing Aid. He's mentioned a few times lately that he doesn't think it's working like normal. Now, those are words that strike fear into a mother's heart, because when a kid thinks their HA isn't working, the odds are about even that it's their hearing that isn't working. But the HA seems to not work well only intermittently, and he's not known for fluctuating hearing loss. So - though this sounds strange - I hope his HA isn't working properly.
So I have another email in to his Audie down at Children's to see what we can do about that. Actually, I mentioned to her last December that I didn't think this HA was cutting it any more, but she was able to tweak it. Insurance companies like HA's to last five years. They're expensive. And Tate has had this one just over four years. She doesn't want to submit a claim to replace it unless it isn't working or isn't meeting his needs. (And - no - there was no wink-wink-nudge-nudge-go-break-it in her voice, though I have to admit it did occur to me...) At the time I questioned the second criteria, but now I'm questioning both.
Recent testing shows he's lost another five db's at a couple of frequencies, and I just don't think this HA is serving him anymore. And I really don't want this to have to be another battle.
4. And to round out the morning... recently, on the home front, Wyatt and I both broke cereal bowls (leaving us five of the eight blue bowls we love, which I got at Ikea years ago), Gunnar broke a green pyrex bowl that was my Nana's, Mt. Laundry (for you climbers, out there) is looking like a full-day 5.9, and - the icing on the cake - one of the bunnies got to come in the house for a visit and peed on Gunnar and the couch. (Thank God for fake leather instead of upholstery.)
5. On the bright side, the sun is out, if briefly. In between phone calls and emails about the insurance we got through our school work successfully. I think the boys could tell I was nearing the Cliffs of Insanity - not aggravated at them, but in general - and really stepped it up. (Was my hair standing on end, or did the smell of
They're out mowing the neighbor's lawn, the lunch dishes are done with no new breakage, and I got mail. Real mail. From a real friend. A friend who is a true, professional encourager. Who, though she is full-on in the throes of parenting a newborn, took time out to send me a note with a generous gift - a contribution to our driving-to-Seattle-a-hundred-times fund.
Love you, Kimberly :-)
(That was the second time I cried.)
6. And, since I still can't load the pictures I wanted to...
I'll include a tide-me-over, since I'm thinking of Kimberly, and this relates to her :D
Long ago, a friend of mine and I bought a collection of vintage reproduction fat quarters. (That means pieces of fabric that look old but aren't, for you non-sewers.) We each got forty pieces. Took me forever to cut into them, and before I did I divided them into pastels, and brights. Made these two quilts out of the pastels, and gave them to new babies at church.
This one has ragged edges around the squares, and I really loved it.
This one really looks old-timey :D
With the brights, I made a tumbler quilt for ME. Love it.
Then I had just a small, random selection of scraps left over, so I tried to figure out what I could do with them, and came up with this.
It's small. Only about twenty-eight inches square. And just feels kind of like spring to me. Like a pinwheel, maybe.
I'd already sent Kimberly a baby quilt, so I just tucked this in, to maybe use with the car seat, or the stroller, when you might want something small. Or it can be her sweet baby's doll quilt, when she's a little older.
So, hallelujah, I think we can cross the insurance situation off the Mother Load until next year. And we can focus on finishing the school year strong and transforming Tate's ability to hear.
And now, back to our regular programming...