1. I switched my good insurance for a shitty one.

2. Four months later, I saw a doctor, who said we had to do a string of tests to see if I could even take Entyvio anymore, or if I had built up an immunity. I had not! (Although I might have by now.)

3. The lab called. They said before insurance will cover it, the old doctor needed to call the insurance company and cancel the old Entyvio order.

4. The doctor refuses to be on hold for 50 minutes. Can’t blame them.

5. The insurance company refuses to call the doctor. (I totally blame them.)

6. CLIFFHANGER: WILL THEY ACCEPT A FAX??????

 

Find out next time…on Tales From US Health Care, by Franz Kafka.

 

 

BEST OF AMY’S UPDATES: (been reading a lotta Reddit)

I think they accepted a fax. At any rate, I got my infusion! …and then a phone call on the way home saying “You absolutely CANNOT get your infusion, at the hospital (I didn’t). You will be on the hook for paying for it. So don’t do it.” At home, there was a letter waiting for me: “Dear you, YOUR INFUSION IS NOT COVERED! DON’T GET IT! …at the hospital. YOU WILL HAVE TO PAY FOR ALL OF IT AND MAYBE THROW YOURSELF INTO THE SEA! DOOOOONNN’T DOOOO IIIIITTTTT!”

But I did. Twice. CLIFFHANGER: WILL THERE BE A BILL???????

 

Find out next time…on Tales From US Health Care, by Franz Kafka.

 

I’ve been on the train a lot lately, and I’ve been thinking about the community that exists in it. It is the one of the quickest communities that exists. This period of a stop or two of these unique people, all with their own histories and personalities. You will never be all together again, and I’m ok with that, as long as I don’t think about it too hard. Then I get sad.

There are times when an Event happens. The last Event I experienced was a few weeks ago, when a man started yelling, possibly at someone, on the train. A tirade, that ended when he got off in a huff. It was a drop-mic moment. And then the rest of the train can bond around that. We talk about it, we joke about it, we get close for a period of 10 seconds to 4 minutes. Sometimes I think about being that catalyst—doing something odd that everyone can laugh about and make fun of or marvel at when I get off. Being an Event, to connect strangers. It’s noble.

About 12 years ago, there was a guy who rode the red line and he made newspaper hats for those around him and never spoke. I remember him. He was a gradual catalyst. People are slower to talk about those—they will smile at each other, or maybe give strangers looks, and you talk about it off the train. But then, like the tirade guy, there are very quick shocks to the people on the train. And those bond strangers tighter and quicker.

So it seems that in order to bond strangers on the train, an intense, quick Event is necessary. But does it have to be negative? Does it have to swim with vitriol? What if I burst into a lovely song, or gave a moving monologue about our new mayor (Mazel tov, Brandon Johnson!)?

After I muster some courage, I’ll be out in the field, doing experiments.