My oldest sister (who could talk a fish out of water) and my mom went with me as my back-up negotiators. Now, don't get me wrong, I love, love, love my mom. The only problem is that she doesn't understand that there are certain things that you don't tell certain people. This has led to multiple awkward situations that we now tease her about. One mistake my mom made in this certain situation was trying to tell a analytical man to feel the pain of a mother’s heartache in seeing one of her children with a painful condition and wanting the best for said child. But this medical expert only wants to hear scientific, medical facts. My mom’s words of sorrow clicked the off-button to this calculating machine. Also mentioning that if we did go with KP and the surgery goes bad, that she would blame, BLAME KP. Guess what a doctor translates the word “blame” into? Sue. In his ears my mom was threatening a lawsuit. That’s not how she meant it, but that is how he heard it. My sister and I knew any more attempts at persuasion (no matter how medically correct) would be a waste of time. Good-bye doctor’s referral letter! Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.
So whats the next step? Well. They just opened up insurance enrollment. Which means I need to call the Mercy Medical Center and try to find someone who can tell me which insurance company would work best for my situation. Then begins another whole new world of stress and planning. But, I mustn't lose heart! 3-ish inches, Yana, remember 3-ish inches of gained height!!!