It is more important to know where you are going, than how long it takes to get there.

Saturday, May 8, 2010

More Forms To Complete...

Every time I see a new doctor, go for another test, or have another procedure like a biopsy, I am given a mountain of forms to sign. The insurance forms, privacy act form, and the list of medications forms are the most common. The medications form is easy because I typed up a list: name, dosage, and how often, down to the most benign medicine - Tylenol, and attach the list to the form. The privacy act form is a piece of paper stating that I was given the privacy act policies, read and understood them. Does anyone ever really read this privacy act stuff? I just sign it and move on to the next form. Insurance usually consists of two forms; one saying that I have insurance, and the other stating that it is okay for the office to bill the insurance. I always use my own pen because I have become a germaphobe over the years. Just think, everyone at the doctor's office is there because they are sick. Do I really want to use a pen that some sneezed-in hands used? Pediatrician's offices must be the most germ-ridden places on the earth. I do not understand what there are toys in the pediatrician's office, especially that ever present bead maze. (Because of our moves, we have visited about 6 different pediatrician's offices, and every single one had that gross bead maze.) I have observed every runny-nosed, sneezy, feverish-looking, coughy sick child play with that maze. What are they thinking? Is this just a ploy to insure repeat customers? I always brought my own toys to the office, but for some reason, that darn bead maze was a magnet, pulling them in as I was pulling them away. Wow, did I ever digress.

This week I picked up my new mastectomy bras at Nordstrom. Before I paid for them, I had to sign two insurance forms. Yes, I am standing at the Nordstrom lingerie counter filling out a couple of insurance forms...who would have ever thought? The very nice saleswoman asked me if I wanted to go into a fitting room to complete them, but I declined - it was only a couple of signatures and address. Plus, if it makes one woman think about breast cancer and her need for a mammogram/MRI, then give me the big pen! (Isn't it strange that my insurance pays for these bras, but I'm struggling with Blue Cross to pay for asthma medicine that doesn't make the girls' heart race and make then feel like they are jumping out of their skin?)

The bras are made out of the softest cotton imaginable. The fabric is infused with vitamin E and Aloe that lasts for up to 35 washings. (I am curious if they make garments for burn victims or people with severe skin conditions out of this fabric.) It is the softest cotton I ever felt, and I worked in the apparel business for 26 years. The bra has four hooks in the center front, and the shoulders have a hooking system so that they can be removed that way too. The range of motion is compromised after surgery, especially for a double mastectomy. It takes a while to be able to lift your arms up past parallel, past your shoulders or over your head. I wonder if these bras will be like maternity pants, after you no longer need it, you kind of miss it - the comfort!

Last night I was asleep by 10:30p.m.! This is like 5:30p.m. for normal people. I rarely fall asleep on the same day I awake. As a result, I woke up at 4:15a.m. I went scrounging around in Riley's room in the dark, looking for her computer, and I awoke & scared her. She was back asleep before I made it out her door...remember those days...

Whacky thought for the day...
Why do I have the best hair day on the day before a haircut appointment?



  1. Happy Mothers Day Keval!!!!!!

  2. Happy Mother's day!

  3. Hey, happy mamma's day... give your mom my love, okay?

    Surgery is NOT bad. Very little pain, except where they took out my lymph nodes. That stung. Otherwise, I felt like I'd done about 600 pushups with a kettlebell on my back, but that was the worst of it.

    Just. Don't. Move. Your. Arms. Check with your doctor about this, but here's my advice: Don't. Move.

    I wish I'd stayed perfectly still for 24-48 hours after surgery. I didn't. I figured, "I feel fine!" and did dishes, went for a walk, picked up my own laundry (with Amy yelling at me and me saying, "I'M FINE.") Umm, stupid!

    I ended up with a seroma (an area of swelling and fluid) and got to keep those DISGUSTING drains in for three long weeks.

    Don't. Move.