Why not? Getting the claims paid is the doctor’s office’s or lab’s issue. You give them the Medicare and UHC cards, and they work it out.
No, paying one’s bills is the responsibility of the patient. The doctor/lab will usually bill insurance, but if a claim is denied even in error, it is the patient who has to sort it out and may have to pay if it takes too long. Fortunately for me I’ve been going to these Drs long enough that they are willing to wait, especially since I speak “insurance”.
I’m too unmotivated to make a thread for this but, all the people on the internet complaining about diversity being “shoved down their throats” in the new Star Wars movie? Fuck all those people.
Two Words: Billy. Manziel.
And me wantin’ to be good and avoid earworming all a’ ya…
(We seriously need a halo smiley. Or a goody two shoes smiley)
I got the earworm just seeing “at night” underlined. Man, the power of ***Mediocre Top 40 Light Rock!
Now do you have a certain Adam Ant song running through your head? (bitchin’ drummin’, man…)
Well, in the running of "Turd of the Year) for the year I nominate a relative of mine.
Her and her son have been estranged for decades. He had his problems, but they were more along the lines of can’t keep his shit together and not like low level criminal/bad person stuff.
We’ll he finally died at home alone at middle/late middle age. Nobody even knew he was dead for weeks.
She didn’t even want to claim the body and did not do so. So, eventually a few childhood friends of his did and paid for a modest cremation and funeral service.
Well, now she’s all bent of shape that they “disrected her and made her look bad”.
Geezus.
Sounds painful!
Would she have preferred to have the corpse recovered by the county and given a pauper’s burial???
Asshole people like that disrespect and make themselves look bad by their actions, then blame everyone else when it comes to light.
Apparently.
Apparently I am incapable of owning an iPhone charging cord that will last longer than 6 months before becoming defunct at the end of the “phone input” side.
Well, fuck. I had my annual recertification to stay on the transplant list this past Monday. I was told everything looked fine, everything should be dandy.
Nope. Today I received a call informing me I am being inactivated from the transplant list until I have a mole checked out.
A mole I’ve had for YEARS. A mole that has not changed. A mole that has been ignored the past three years (I would have been active on the list three years 03/23/16). Now, suddenly, it’s a BFD.
She also suggested I see someone for my anxiety. Threatened that unless I get it under control she may also keep me inactivated for that reason. I wonder why I have anxiety?
I pit my arthritis. Nothing makes you feel older than clumsy hands and having to constantly ask your coworkers to help you open this or lift that 
Then there’s my feet. I could rant on and on about them but I won’t.
I trekked out into the rain and cold this morning for an MRI on my swollen, Achilles-tendonitis-afflicted ankle. The weather just makes it hurt even more, along with 35 minutes of keeping it still in the infernal noisy machine.
That sucks, Miss Take. However, moles do sometimes change and it’s possible you wouldn’t even notice. I had a customer where I worked tell me to get mine checked as he thought it was changing, and when I did, they told me it was cancer. And I had that mole from birth and never once thought it was changing. I’m sorry you lost your place but probably you should get it checked. As for the anxiety thing, well, hopefully when the mole is either passed or removed, you can go back on the list and go back to not being (as) anxious. (And once you get your transplant you can stop being anxious altogether.)
Half of the clementines I bought last Friday went bad. I wouldn’t be so mad if they weren’t $8 a box.
When they’re good, they’re very very good, but when they’re bad they’re awful.
I bought a bag of “clementines” last month that looked a little bigger than normal. Went to peel one and it was a bitch to get done. Then I bit into a segment and hit a seed. Then another seed, and then another. Each segment had four or five seeds. The bag said “seedless” so I’d be really pissed if I had handed this to a youngster.
At least the store gave me my money back with no questions.
The cortisone injection I got in my shoulder last week has done absolutely no good. I’m still in as much pain as I was, and the ortho doctor told me to come back “in several months” if I’m still in pain and he’ll do an MRI.
Arghhhhh FUUUUCK. It is RAINING in my KITCHEN.
NOT good!