Wednesday, July 30, 2014

the Hole in my Bucket

Injury two months ago.
Specialist Dr (good doctor by the way, I like her) referred me for physical therapy. Physical therapy wouldn't schedule me because they don't accept my government-funded insurance for those without money, unless the patient has such insurance through a specific program which apparently I don't.
Millions of phone calls later to multiple phone numbers associated with the government-funded insurance in order to ask a few questions and update my address.
Called Drs office to tell them the physical therapy place wouldn't take me. Was hoping they would refer me someplace else. Receptionist said: well now it's your job to find a physical therapy place that will take you. Once you've found one, call us back and we'll refer you to them.
Had no idea where to start.
Family member suggested I call a local community clinic to get a recommendation-to ask them if they knew any such place-since such a clinic deals with low-income persons and might know a place that accepts such types of insurance. Receptionist at clinic told me I'd have to make an appointment with one of the doctors there who could then refer me somewhere. I said I'd call back. Decided to go ahead and make such an appointment. Called back. This time the receptionist told me I should just contact my own doctor, (the one mentioned at the beginning of this whole thing). hanks for the advice (sarcastic). 
Called random physical therapy place. They don't accept my government-funded insurance for those without money, unless the patient has such insurance through a specific program which apparently I don't.

Whole thing reminds me of this song: