I've been living and breathing insurance quotes and underwriting and deductible this and out-of-pocket that for three whole weeks now. I've spoken with a number of people at a number of companies. I've been rejected by Humana for the benign lump and the PCOS. I had a follow up appointment for the very lump in question today and the surgeon was appalled. " That's ridiculous! It was benign. Did you tell them that it was benign?" (No, I thought, I told them it was cancerous just for the joy of being rejected out right. Of course I told them it was benign. Multiple times. With all manner of tone to my voice.) "What do I need to do?" she asked me. "I can tell them that you need only routine exams until you're 40. Would that help?" Have I mentioned that I love her? I don't have any desire to spend a great deal of time with her, mind you, because that would mean that my breasts were up to no good but I kind of wish she'd invite me to go for coffee.
I'm really weird like that. Every once in awhile I form strange attachments to physicians and I think about blurting out that they should come over for dinner sometime. My obstetrician in San Diego. My breast surgeon. Apparently I get attached to doctors who have to deal with my unmentionables. Wow. This is not really the direction I'd intended for this post. Moving on.
Anyhoo.
Where were we?
Humana. Rejected.
Altius. Rejected. Their reason: Recent use of Metformin. If by recent you mean last October then, sure. But since I've almost had time to gestate an entire human--not that I am gestating an entire human--I don't really consider that recent. I'm appealing that decision although, it should be stated, that I am not holding my breath.
We also applied with Select Health. I sent in the online application with them about two and a half weeks ago. Last Monday I contacted them directly and found that they needed my medical records. So I had them sent. Then I waited three days and called them back. They needed something else. Something they hadn't asked for originally. So I had that sent. Then I called back the next day. It had been sent back to underwriting. I could call back on Monday. Today.
So I called.
And they said they hadn't received what they needed. So I nearly lost my ever-loving mind. There was this biting tone that kept coming out of my mouth. My head knew it wasn't the poor man's fault on the other end of the phone so I kept saying things in a measured but irritable voice like, "I don't understand how I'm back where I was a week ago. This is what I was told. I'm running out of time and, frankly, I'm getting tired of this." And then, no sooner would I finish the sentence that my voice would turn all soft and sweet, "I'm sorry. I know this isn't your fault." I was straight up Jekyll and Hyde. It was a little disturbing. Speaking of Jeyll and Hyde which, well, we weren't but Troy and I watched Van Helsing last night because you can't go wrong with Hugh Jackman, right? Wrong. That was certainly a party I wish I'd never been invited to.
Anyway, it finally got worked out and the application was sent back to underwriting. The nice man--who kept telling me that I didn't need to apologize--told me to call back tomorrow. But I've never been an overly patient person.
So I called at 4:30.
And there was good news and bad news. The good news is that the whole family was approved. Praise God! Hallelujah. After being rejected by two companies I know that this was all God. The bad news was that because of my "risky preexisting conditions" they are only offering it to us at a 35% cost increase. And the number is pretty steep. It's doable but it's steep.
I did have them send the proposal back to underwriting at Select to ask how long it would be before that additional 35% might be lifted. One year? Ten? And I'm seriously considering calling them tomorrow and trying to negotiate the price. Is this even a thing? Can someone try to do that? Will I be laughed off the phone? Because you know what, I negotiated my Santa Fe to a price I could live with. They never saw me coming. The salesman said he couldn't do it so I turned around, walked out, and drove home. He called me a half hour later and said he might be able to work something out.
Of course, there was that time in Mexico where I could not get the sombrero seller to give me a ten dollar hat for eight. Could not. And I bought the hat anyway. That dude totally called my bluff. So I'm one for two.
But what if I sent the underwriters a basket of mini muffins and a note that says, "Pretty please lower my premium?"
I could so do that. I would so do that.
Showing posts with label Amen Praise and Glory. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Amen Praise and Glory. Show all posts
Monday, May 21, 2012
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Crucifixion
We had an amazing Good Friday last night. Excellent worship songs, well spoken words from my husband, and an encounter with the cross. Each person had the opportunity to approach a wooden cross and slam a nail into it, signifying that our sin was hammered to the cross of Jesus.
In addition, we watched a very powerful short movie. I highly recommend viewing it. It isn't graphic but it will make you think about the Lord did for you.
2,000 years ago, the disciples were huddled together, wondering what to do next. They didn't know what was about to happen. They didn't know the glory that awaited them...
In addition, we watched a very powerful short movie. I highly recommend viewing it. It isn't graphic but it will make you think about the Lord did for you.
2,000 years ago, the disciples were huddled together, wondering what to do next. They didn't know what was about to happen. They didn't know the glory that awaited them...
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Anniversary
Around here, April 21 may as well be someone's birthday. There aren't presents but there is some level of pomp and circumstance. We're going out to dinner.
Matthew was born on February 28. He entered our hearts a month before that, when we first learned of his existence. He entered our arms on his birthday. He legally entered our family last April 21. We promised to love him forever. We told the judge that we were certain we wanted to adopt him (and, oh, were we ever).
So today we're hugging and smooching on our son even more than normal. We're remembering the journey, the toll it took, the lessons learned. Garrett is parading around announcing, at different intervals, "Happy Adoption Day!"
Then he asked me, "When is my Happy Adoption Day?" I explained that he doesn't have one because he isn't adopted. He's alright with that, for the moment. I'm sure a day will come when he wants to have a day, other than his birthday, where we celebrate him.
With a smirk I suggested to Troy, "Well, we could have a Happy Conception Day for him. I'm sure that will go over real well when he's fourteen."
Me: Come on, Garrett, let's go celebrate your conception.
Him: No thanks, Mom, I'd really rather not.
But as for today, we celebrate the joy. We celebrate the weight lifted. We celebrate the day when we knew that Matthew would be ours forever. And, of course, we praise the Lord!
Matthew was born on February 28. He entered our hearts a month before that, when we first learned of his existence. He entered our arms on his birthday. He legally entered our family last April 21. We promised to love him forever. We told the judge that we were certain we wanted to adopt him (and, oh, were we ever).
So today we're hugging and smooching on our son even more than normal. We're remembering the journey, the toll it took, the lessons learned. Garrett is parading around announcing, at different intervals, "Happy Adoption Day!"
Then he asked me, "When is my Happy Adoption Day?" I explained that he doesn't have one because he isn't adopted. He's alright with that, for the moment. I'm sure a day will come when he wants to have a day, other than his birthday, where we celebrate him.
With a smirk I suggested to Troy, "Well, we could have a Happy Conception Day for him. I'm sure that will go over real well when he's fourteen."
Me: Come on, Garrett, let's go celebrate your conception.
Him: No thanks, Mom, I'd really rather not.
But as for today, we celebrate the joy. We celebrate the weight lifted. We celebrate the day when we knew that Matthew would be ours forever. And, of course, we praise the Lord!
Friday, April 15, 2011
One Year Later
I open the door to the bedroom and he looks at me with deep, delicious, chocolate eyes. "Good morning," I whisper. "I love you."
"I wub ew!" comes the response from the curly topped boy in the crib that we just converted into a bed. Every morning he wants to snuggle just until he realizes that his big brother is playing in the other room. He is his brother's boy, his daddy's boy but always and (sometimes I fear) forever a mama's boy. He is highly emotional--as though he is, perhaps, a teenage girl at heart. The highs are high. Hysterical laughter, ear splitting squeals, excited babbling and expressive finger pointing. The lows are loud. Sobbing, blubbering, unintelligible and slobbery moans. But the lows are getting better. Lesser. Fewer. His toothy smile and outrageous laugh melt all our hearts. His obsession with showing off his tummy and his hilarious "dirty look" keep smiles on our faces. The back of his neck, bending as he pours over a book, pulls me like a magnet and it is impossible not to rush to him and kiss the nape at least a dozen times. He's a garbage disposal--eating almost anything that is put in front of him with wild abandon. He's a ham--figuratively, of course. He's infatuated with shoes, monkeys, guitars, drum sticks, ice, anything his brother has, toothbrushes and dogs. He can out dance the three of us put together and is ridiculously strong. He is an amazing blessing.
I am so thankful for the past year with my second son.
One year ago today, Matthew's father agreed to the adoption. (Which was finalized a week later, on April 21). A heavy burden was lifted from my shoulders. Truthfully, it took months to lift entirely but steadily, breathing became easier, life reached a new normal and our family relaxed. I have not forgotten the fear of losing my baby and it permeates my parenting. I have not forgotten that He alone has done great things. I have not forgotten the journey. And I tell Matthew, with regularity, that his Mother and Father love him so much and selflessly gave us the incredible gift of raising him.
I dropped a check in the mail today. It was written for 5,800 dollars. Our adoption debt is gone. Our Lord has provided in miraculous ways. The remaining debt was paid by our tax return. The fact that today, exactly one year later, we've paid our bills in full is incredible. Our adoption totaled about 38,500 dollars. Just over half of that was donated by friends, family members, friends of friends, and people we've never even met.
I serve a mighty God!
If you have donated, whether 20 dollars or 4,000 dollars (that's right--a friend of ours donated over 10% of our adoption costs), we thank you. If you have prayed, whether once or daily, we thank you. If you have partnered with us in bringing Matthew into our family, we thank you.
A certain two-year-old just wandered down the stairs with a drum stick in his hand. He smiled and babbled something I couldn't quite make out. Then he crawled up next to me. "Do you have a poop?" I asked him after the smell hit my nose.
"Yes!" He said emphatically.
"Go get a diaper and give it to daddy," I whispered.
A new normal. Free of adoption debt.
"I wub ew!" comes the response from the curly topped boy in the crib that we just converted into a bed. Every morning he wants to snuggle just until he realizes that his big brother is playing in the other room. He is his brother's boy, his daddy's boy but always and (sometimes I fear) forever a mama's boy. He is highly emotional--as though he is, perhaps, a teenage girl at heart. The highs are high. Hysterical laughter, ear splitting squeals, excited babbling and expressive finger pointing. The lows are loud. Sobbing, blubbering, unintelligible and slobbery moans. But the lows are getting better. Lesser. Fewer. His toothy smile and outrageous laugh melt all our hearts. His obsession with showing off his tummy and his hilarious "dirty look" keep smiles on our faces. The back of his neck, bending as he pours over a book, pulls me like a magnet and it is impossible not to rush to him and kiss the nape at least a dozen times. He's a garbage disposal--eating almost anything that is put in front of him with wild abandon. He's a ham--figuratively, of course. He's infatuated with shoes, monkeys, guitars, drum sticks, ice, anything his brother has, toothbrushes and dogs. He can out dance the three of us put together and is ridiculously strong. He is an amazing blessing.
I am so thankful for the past year with my second son.
One year ago today, Matthew's father agreed to the adoption. (Which was finalized a week later, on April 21). A heavy burden was lifted from my shoulders. Truthfully, it took months to lift entirely but steadily, breathing became easier, life reached a new normal and our family relaxed. I have not forgotten the fear of losing my baby and it permeates my parenting. I have not forgotten that He alone has done great things. I have not forgotten the journey. And I tell Matthew, with regularity, that his Mother and Father love him so much and selflessly gave us the incredible gift of raising him.
I dropped a check in the mail today. It was written for 5,800 dollars. Our adoption debt is gone. Our Lord has provided in miraculous ways. The remaining debt was paid by our tax return. The fact that today, exactly one year later, we've paid our bills in full is incredible. Our adoption totaled about 38,500 dollars. Just over half of that was donated by friends, family members, friends of friends, and people we've never even met.
I serve a mighty God!
If you have donated, whether 20 dollars or 4,000 dollars (that's right--a friend of ours donated over 10% of our adoption costs), we thank you. If you have prayed, whether once or daily, we thank you. If you have partnered with us in bringing Matthew into our family, we thank you.
A certain two-year-old just wandered down the stairs with a drum stick in his hand. He smiled and babbled something I couldn't quite make out. Then he crawled up next to me. "Do you have a poop?" I asked him after the smell hit my nose.
"Yes!" He said emphatically.
"Go get a diaper and give it to daddy," I whispered.
A new normal. Free of adoption debt.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Incredible Blessing
Look over at my side bar. Look over at how much debt we have remaining. Look over and see what the Lord has done!
Two months ago we had $12,000 remaining. That wasn't too terrible considering our adoption cost us approximately 38,500 dollars and it's only been finalized for ten months. But now, in a matter of just a couple of months, even that number has been almost cut in half.
What I need you to know is that we prayed, every step of the way. We prayed that if it was in Matthew's best interest not to be with our family, that the court would rule accordingly. It was a very challenging prayer because with every corner of our heart, we desired him here with us. We questioned our motives, our hearts, our assessments of certain details. But during the journey God used legal, spiritual and medical counsel, as well as our own knowledge and intuition, to keep us on the course that eventually led to Matthew's permanent place in our home.
So then it was just a matter of money. A lot of money. None of which we actually had. But what we did have was an amazing, God sent, lawyer who put us on an almost laughably small payment plan and didn't charge us interest. I have grandparents who, when all was settled, paid off our lawyer and allowed us to continue with the laughably small payment plan. And, of course, we've had the blessing of so many of you who not only prayed with us but joined us by offering up your own finances.
Once again I am humbled, stunned, and awed by your generosity and by the way my Savior continues to affirm our decisions. On Saturday I received a large donation from someone I've never even met and yesterday the mail lady came to the door, needing me to sign for a package. She asked if I was going to do anything special for Valentine's Day.
"Not really," I replied. In truth, we'd had long overdue family pictures taken and Troy and I had gotten each other a small gift. We also attended our church Valentine's dinner. It all seemed like a lot to ramble on about to the mail carrier.
"Well, maybe this is something special. It's addressed to your whole family."
I smiled at her. I knew that it was, indeed, something special. My friend, Joelle, had told me it was coming. A donation to our adoption fund. But when I opened it to find an enormously substantial cashier's check, I knew that our Valentine's Day had truly come.
A day to celebrate God's faithfulness. A day to celebrate love between couples, between friends, between parents and children, between a Savior and His beloved.
Thank you, Shon & Joelle and Stacie & Edward. Thank you to all of you who have donated and blessed our family in such a tangible way. We truly could never have done this without the Lord working through you!
Psalm 89:1
I will sing of the LORD's great love forever; with my mouth I will make your faithfulness known through all generations.
Two months ago we had $12,000 remaining. That wasn't too terrible considering our adoption cost us approximately 38,500 dollars and it's only been finalized for ten months. But now, in a matter of just a couple of months, even that number has been almost cut in half.
What I need you to know is that we prayed, every step of the way. We prayed that if it was in Matthew's best interest not to be with our family, that the court would rule accordingly. It was a very challenging prayer because with every corner of our heart, we desired him here with us. We questioned our motives, our hearts, our assessments of certain details. But during the journey God used legal, spiritual and medical counsel, as well as our own knowledge and intuition, to keep us on the course that eventually led to Matthew's permanent place in our home.
So then it was just a matter of money. A lot of money. None of which we actually had. But what we did have was an amazing, God sent, lawyer who put us on an almost laughably small payment plan and didn't charge us interest. I have grandparents who, when all was settled, paid off our lawyer and allowed us to continue with the laughably small payment plan. And, of course, we've had the blessing of so many of you who not only prayed with us but joined us by offering up your own finances.
Once again I am humbled, stunned, and awed by your generosity and by the way my Savior continues to affirm our decisions. On Saturday I received a large donation from someone I've never even met and yesterday the mail lady came to the door, needing me to sign for a package. She asked if I was going to do anything special for Valentine's Day.
"Not really," I replied. In truth, we'd had long overdue family pictures taken and Troy and I had gotten each other a small gift. We also attended our church Valentine's dinner. It all seemed like a lot to ramble on about to the mail carrier.
"Well, maybe this is something special. It's addressed to your whole family."
I smiled at her. I knew that it was, indeed, something special. My friend, Joelle, had told me it was coming. A donation to our adoption fund. But when I opened it to find an enormously substantial cashier's check, I knew that our Valentine's Day had truly come.
A day to celebrate God's faithfulness. A day to celebrate love between couples, between friends, between parents and children, between a Savior and His beloved.
Thank you, Shon & Joelle and Stacie & Edward. Thank you to all of you who have donated and blessed our family in such a tangible way. We truly could never have done this without the Lord working through you!
Psalm 89:1
I will sing of the LORD's great love forever; with my mouth I will make your faithfulness known through all generations.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Did You Know?
There are times when I want to run down the street screaming the name of my Savior for all the world to hear. My Lord willingly left the glory of heaven for the horrors of earth. He pulled me out of the wreckage, set my feet on the ground, and said, "If you confess with your mouth that I am Lord and you believe in your heart that God raised me from the dead, you will be saved." From eternal suffering. From yourself. From total destruction.
As a child, there was something so spectacular about the baby Jesus. There was something so sweetly innocent about the newborn in the manger. But that baby became my crucified Lord. It was difficult to think of my bleeding, battered, Savior as someone's child. He crashed through death and into life with fierce strength and everlasting implication and the Jesus that I know isn't a helpless babe in a stable. He is the sovereign protector of my heart, the lover of my soul, the Almighty.
Once a year I remind myself that the Beginning and the End came in the smallest of packages. Once a year I think of a scared teenager holding the Redeemer. Once a year, I try to imagine my King as an infant, holding the hope of the world in His tiny clenched fist. In my mind, I struggle and fight against the wrong assumption that the baby was just a child. I sometimes forget that, even then, He was Emmanuel. God with us.
And I've always wondered when He knew.
Perhaps that is why when I stumbled upon this song, the lyrics picked me up, slammed me down, and brought a sudden rush of tears to my eyes.
Did You Know?
Were Mary's the first eyes You saw
Or did You remember choosing that shade of brown?
Were You surprised at the shepherd's crazy story
Or did You know You wrote the song the angel's sang?
What was this life like for You?
Did You know?
Did the cross cast its shadow o'er Your cradle?
Did You know?
Did You shudder each time Your hammer struck a nail?
Did You know?
How much heaven and how much earth
Were in this baby at His birth?
Did You know or did You wonder?
Did You remember the brightness of Your glory
Or did You just notice it was cold and dark here?
Did You know Your name or did You have to be told?
Were You just a baby or were You as old as time?
What was Your life like?
Did You know?
Did the cross cast its shadow o'er Your cradle?
Did You know?
Did You shudder each time Your hammer struck a nail?
Did You know?
How much heaven and how much earth
Were in this baby at His birth?
Did You know or did You wonder?
Did You wonder?
-Todd Agnew
As a child, there was something so spectacular about the baby Jesus. There was something so sweetly innocent about the newborn in the manger. But that baby became my crucified Lord. It was difficult to think of my bleeding, battered, Savior as someone's child. He crashed through death and into life with fierce strength and everlasting implication and the Jesus that I know isn't a helpless babe in a stable. He is the sovereign protector of my heart, the lover of my soul, the Almighty.
Once a year I remind myself that the Beginning and the End came in the smallest of packages. Once a year I think of a scared teenager holding the Redeemer. Once a year, I try to imagine my King as an infant, holding the hope of the world in His tiny clenched fist. In my mind, I struggle and fight against the wrong assumption that the baby was just a child. I sometimes forget that, even then, He was Emmanuel. God with us.
And I've always wondered when He knew.
Perhaps that is why when I stumbled upon this song, the lyrics picked me up, slammed me down, and brought a sudden rush of tears to my eyes.
Did You Know?
Were Mary's the first eyes You saw
Or did You remember choosing that shade of brown?
Were You surprised at the shepherd's crazy story
Or did You know You wrote the song the angel's sang?
What was this life like for You?
Did You know?
Did the cross cast its shadow o'er Your cradle?
Did You know?
Did You shudder each time Your hammer struck a nail?
Did You know?
How much heaven and how much earth
Were in this baby at His birth?
Did You know or did You wonder?
Did You remember the brightness of Your glory
Or did You just notice it was cold and dark here?
Did You know Your name or did You have to be told?
Were You just a baby or were You as old as time?
What was Your life like?
Did You know?
Did the cross cast its shadow o'er Your cradle?
Did You know?
Did You shudder each time Your hammer struck a nail?
Did You know?
How much heaven and how much earth
Were in this baby at His birth?
Did You know or did You wonder?
Did You wonder?
-Todd Agnew
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Retreating
I love retreat highs.
Spent this weekend with almost 30 other women and had an absolutely amazing time.
Drew nearer to the Lord.
Made a decision or two.
Dealt with a few issues. One of them being my own.
Did a craft.
Ate way too muchsugar food.
Slept way too little.
Laughed way too hard during a game of Telestrations. For real. The eight players were all in tears. My stomach muscles may never be the same.
Led worship (I know, right?) and lost my voice.
Came home on a high.
Which is making me really excited about what God's gonna do in thirteen days.
Thirteen. Eek!
Spent this weekend with almost 30 other women and had an absolutely amazing time.
Drew nearer to the Lord.
Made a decision or two.
Dealt with a few issues. One of them being my own.
Did a craft.
Ate way too much
Slept way too little.
Laughed way too hard during a game of Telestrations. For real. The eight players were all in tears. My stomach muscles may never be the same.
Led worship (I know, right?) and lost my voice.
Came home on a high.
Which is making me really excited about what God's gonna do in thirteen days.
Thirteen. Eek!
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