I’ve been home a week now, because UHC, in their infinite wisdom, sent me home well ahead of the timeframe expected by the various medical professionals I was working with at the skilled nursing/rehab facility I’d been sent to.
I was not the only person discharged on that day, appeals denied, where the staff was upset and frustrated by it – but there was commentary on how “they never read our notes” and “it’s hard to get anyone to listen” and…
…as it turns out, unsurprisingly, the therapists and nurses were right, the insurance company was wrong – and I wasn’t ready to come home.
It’s been a bit of a struggle finding a good balance between the need to continue to rest and heal and recover my capacities and the desire to get back on track with things.
This first week has been about settling back in, reassuring my cats, and dealing with the aftermath of both what almost killed me and the exacerbation to all of my chronic stuff that being in environments I couldn’t control with food I mostly couldn’t eat caused.
There’s been forward motion on paperwork, and I am hoping to get some packages that were essentially done but for the notes and tape and shipping labels into the mail this week.
Slowly but surely, I’m on my way back.
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