Azure Jane Lunatic (Azz) 🌺 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
azurelunatic) wrote2016-03-25 12:56 am
azurelunatic) wrote2016-03-25 12:56 am
Entry tags:
Excessively exciting...
It's become customary for me to have dinner with Purple on a random weeknight, just the two of us. I'd looked at my schedule for the week: Monday, work call. Tuesday, evening before the Day of Two Dentists. Wednesday, the Day of Two Dentists. Thursday, nothing planned. Friday, dinner. So it was Tuesday or Thursday, since dinner after TDO2D sounded ... unwise. And Purple has a standing social engagement Thursdays which he tries to go to unless he's working late or too tired, so Tuesday it was. Even though we were both very tired. We had sandwiches, companionably, and talked about an astonishing range of topics. He was sorry to drag me all the way down there for so short a dinner, but -- well, I was just glad to see him, you know?
So Wednesday was the Day of Two Dentists. (No dental horror is contained in this narrative, unless you count bureaucracy and passing references to high-pitched noises.)
Every now and then, my sleep schedule decides to turn itself upside-down. That happened this weekend. That was fun. So Monday I didn't get to sleep until 6 or 7, Tuesday I'd managed to claw it back to 5, and I was still underslept and cranky on Wednesday, when I presented myself at my regular dentist at 9 for a numbed-out half-mouth deep cleaning (minor sensory hell in the form of the screeching powered pick).
Fortunately my regular dentist puts me at ease with an adept manner, and she was gossiping with her assistant and talking about her family and traveling with her kids and The Martian and how much she'd liked it and all the little cheery details of life. (Also she is very beautiful. *starry hearteyes from afar*)
I spent the spare hour in between Dentist 1 and when I had to set off for Dentist 2 doing conference research via price checks at Costco. Useful! It turns out that I can, in fact, successfully eat a hot dog without biting myself, with only half my mouth in working order.
It turns out that if your phone is in the direct sun and you have not got the air conditioning turned on, your phone may force-quit six applications (including the navigation app) in order to stay cool. I turned on my air conditioning.
I arrived at Dentist 2 in good time despite that, and got started filling out paperwork. The previous phone calls I had gotten from Dentist 2 to double-check my insurance ID number (one the day before, one while I was standing in the cafe line at Costco) snapped into irritating focus when they told me that my insurance said I was assigned to a different office (likely the specialist in Oakland who hadn't had an appointment until May), and therefore my insurance would not give them my information. Despite my insurance having said "oh dear, May? Ah. No." and referred me to this office.
I called my insurance.
As befits an insurance office serving an entire state, their office was closed for lunch until 1. My appointment, naturally, was for 12:30.
I filled out paperwork while waiting for the office to open. This did not take up the entire time. It turns out that reading some really substantial novel-length fic on your ipod will help with many things, including this.
I called my insurance. After about twenty minutes of truly tedious back-and-forth, I learned the following:
* The street address is not sufficient to look up a dental office.
* The dental office is listed under one phone number at a time, and it is not the one that you or the receptionists are aware of.
* The specialist I was going to see isn't in the office all the time, and in fact is only there on alternate Mondays. (This was a Wednesday.)
* However, even though I had an emergency referral from Dentist 1, their own general dentist would have totreat me like a horse examine my case, before I could be let out the gate to see the specialist.
* The dental insurance place reviews all specialists' credentials. All specialists are assigned to an office. If the specialist moves offices, the review process must happen again, or at least a substantial chunk of non-immediate paperwork.
* This dental office is part of a chain that likes to shuffle its specialists like a neophyte magician shuffles cards: enthusiastically, messily, and without telling anyone who's trying to watch the right things to make it work.
* Their resident specialist is not on the insurance's list.
* The two specialists that the insurance thought were there, are in fact not there, and haven't been for quite some time.
* Was I sure that I didn't want to wait until May when the nice specialist in Oakland had an appointment?
I was sure. The nice lady proceeded to quiz me on what cities, in fact, were near me. This is complicated by the fact that there are quite a few. "How about Sacramento?" she asked brightly.
* No.
We finally stumbled upon an office that was not only within 40 miles, but had an appointment the very next day! She made me an appointment. I congratulated myself on my good luck and headed for home. On the way, I called the office of Dentist #3 to inquire after what other information they'd need. The guy on the phone sounded altogether on the ball, and had sensible questions for me. (Since I did not care to be knocked entirely out, there were no particular special instructions.) He directed me to call him back once I got home so he could give me the email address so Dentist #1 could send over some recent x-rays.
02:23 PM azurelunatic: so it's New Jersey roulette as to whether you actually are allowed to visit that office (less lethal than Russian, but super obnoxious)
02:24 PM PurpleK: less lethal, more orange, and with more baffling clothing?
02:24 PM azurelunatic: That's the situation, yes.
02:24 PM azurelunatic: also The Situation
Dentist #1 took the email address and promised to send the x-rays.
05:31 PM azurelunatic: man ... if I go lie down now, I'm going to fuck up my sleep schedule entirely
05:31 PM azurelunatic: yet I am not super useful at the moment
05:32 PM PurpleK: read a book for quasi rest?
05:33 PM azurelunatic: I think the feeling of unusefulness is perhaps illusory
~
05:40 PM PurpleK: Level 6 Illusory Unusefulness
05:40 PM azurelunatic: :>
05:40 PM azurelunatic: I like you
05:40 PM azurelunatic: I like your face
~
05:49 PM azurelunatic: the phone rings!
The office of Dentist #1. The email had bounced, and was I sure I had given them the right address? I had. She'd made a typo. Ah well, better to check than not, right?
06:13 PM azurelunatic: ugh, pissed at [vendor] again
06:15 PM azurelunatic: [two paragraphs of terrible UI]
06:17 PM azurelunatic: It's that kind of day, I think.
azurelunatic hates (nearly) everything
06:26 PM PurpleK: the world's eatting crackers!
06:26 PM azurelunatic: and getting the damn crumbs in my bra
~
azurelunatic grumbles at the rest of the world
~
07:11 PM azurelunatic: grumble grumble grouse cranky sore tired stiff shouldered [menstrual woe] catless [ongoing woe] [ongoing woe] chilly zit on my nose single and my hair isn't 100% blue.
~
07:11 PM PurpleK: *HUGS*
azurelunatic leans
07:12 PM azurelunatic: it's been a day all right
Thursday morning dawns. Your correspondent is in a much better mood, has located the modern GPS so isn't relying on the good offices of the phone for navigation. They sail down to San Jose, arriving at the office of Dentist #3 in a generally timely fashion, although perhaps not quite soon enough to get through all the paperwork before 1. "And we just have to call your insurance for all the details..." concluded one of the ladies behind the desk. (Incidentally, my blue hair is the single best conversation starting feature I have ever had.) "Azure? Your insurance is an HMO. We don't take HMOs. You could still have the appointment? But it would be out of pocket?"
I allowed as how that would not be what I was doing today. Unlike Dentist #2, these ladies very reassuringly told me that they'd be shredding my paperwork.
I launched a call to the dental insurance. It's in my recent calls by now, and I know the phone tree well enough to get right to customer service. I inquired that did they know that this specialist, the one that they had referred me to, did not take HMOs? Like them?
I had got a very nice and competent agent with the name of a Crystal Gem. She was appalled, and promptly placed me on hold to start the process where a number of somewhat upset people talk to each other about important business matters. She returned, assuring me that another department would be calling them posthaste, and could she get my phone number so they could call me back and let me know what the actual fuck.
Meanwhile, I proceeded to get very lost on the freeways at that end of the Bay, but finally got myself turned around and pointed in the right direction. I blame myself for trying to avoid the fuck out of 101.
Dentist #3's office called back, sounding chagrined. I did not want an appointment for the following day. I successfully got myself off 101 and onto the road through Los Altos Hills back to 280.
Crystal called back, sounding indignant. The other department had explained the facts of life to the office of Dentist #3, and she filled me in on some of the obnoxious bureaucratic details. (This is out of network, therefore I would be paying 70% of the cost out of pocket. Yes, even though it was an emergency referral.) She gave me her extension number, which I promptly memorized. Unlike the person the day before, she asked me what county I was in (apparently this is the way to get a better office listing). We were going through the possibility of her just emailing me a whole whackton of offices so I could sort and call around, when I saw a car pulled off the side of 280 with blinkers on and a group of people holding up a "HELP" sign. My speech processors went partly offline, and I told Crystal "Ok yikes, someone's pulled off to the side of the road and they're holding up a sign that says HELP, I'm pulling over to see what's the, what's the, what's the..." I backed up to within a reasonable distance, and pulled over as far as I could to the curb to make sure I wouldn't get creamed by freeway traffic when I hopped out.
It was a flat. "Do you know how to change a spare tire?" one of the four fashionably dressed ladies (plus an older woman who might have been a mother or auntie) asked. As a matter of fact, I did! I flopped down in pushup position to examine the jack placement; I would later notice that the gravel had scratched up my shins some. (This is why I don't wear color. Doing bellyflops on the side of 280 and spilling coffee down my tits are both very bad for colored clothing.) They had the jack placed perfectly (I told them so) and then we began jacking up the car.
The lug nuts on the flat were not all of a type. Four looked pretty standard hexagonal to me, but the fifth was some weird-ass thing with a flower-like pattern, which google tells me is a locking lug nut. Fortunately they had the adapter, so I got that one off no problem. One of the ladies slipped it into her pocket or purse or something, and then I started tackling the other ones.
... and the wrench didn't fit.
I ran back to my car to dig around in the trunk to see if I had anything that would fit; the other two sockets I turned up were waaaay too small. But by that time CHP had pulled over, and things seemed to be well in hand. I waved off the offer of money, and headed on my merry way home (calling Nora because *omg*).
Tomorrow is Friday. Hooray Friday. I need to call Crystal back, to get that list of dentists, and reassure her that I am not quite literally dead in a ditch.
So Wednesday was the Day of Two Dentists. (No dental horror is contained in this narrative, unless you count bureaucracy and passing references to high-pitched noises.)
Every now and then, my sleep schedule decides to turn itself upside-down. That happened this weekend. That was fun. So Monday I didn't get to sleep until 6 or 7, Tuesday I'd managed to claw it back to 5, and I was still underslept and cranky on Wednesday, when I presented myself at my regular dentist at 9 for a numbed-out half-mouth deep cleaning (minor sensory hell in the form of the screeching powered pick).
Fortunately my regular dentist puts me at ease with an adept manner, and she was gossiping with her assistant and talking about her family and traveling with her kids and The Martian and how much she'd liked it and all the little cheery details of life. (Also she is very beautiful. *starry hearteyes from afar*)
I spent the spare hour in between Dentist 1 and when I had to set off for Dentist 2 doing conference research via price checks at Costco. Useful! It turns out that I can, in fact, successfully eat a hot dog without biting myself, with only half my mouth in working order.
It turns out that if your phone is in the direct sun and you have not got the air conditioning turned on, your phone may force-quit six applications (including the navigation app) in order to stay cool. I turned on my air conditioning.
I arrived at Dentist 2 in good time despite that, and got started filling out paperwork. The previous phone calls I had gotten from Dentist 2 to double-check my insurance ID number (one the day before, one while I was standing in the cafe line at Costco) snapped into irritating focus when they told me that my insurance said I was assigned to a different office (likely the specialist in Oakland who hadn't had an appointment until May), and therefore my insurance would not give them my information. Despite my insurance having said "oh dear, May? Ah. No." and referred me to this office.
I called my insurance.
As befits an insurance office serving an entire state, their office was closed for lunch until 1. My appointment, naturally, was for 12:30.
I filled out paperwork while waiting for the office to open. This did not take up the entire time. It turns out that reading some really substantial novel-length fic on your ipod will help with many things, including this.
I called my insurance. After about twenty minutes of truly tedious back-and-forth, I learned the following:
* The street address is not sufficient to look up a dental office.
* The dental office is listed under one phone number at a time, and it is not the one that you or the receptionists are aware of.
* The specialist I was going to see isn't in the office all the time, and in fact is only there on alternate Mondays. (This was a Wednesday.)
* However, even though I had an emergency referral from Dentist 1, their own general dentist would have to
* The dental insurance place reviews all specialists' credentials. All specialists are assigned to an office. If the specialist moves offices, the review process must happen again, or at least a substantial chunk of non-immediate paperwork.
* This dental office is part of a chain that likes to shuffle its specialists like a neophyte magician shuffles cards: enthusiastically, messily, and without telling anyone who's trying to watch the right things to make it work.
* Their resident specialist is not on the insurance's list.
* The two specialists that the insurance thought were there, are in fact not there, and haven't been for quite some time.
* Was I sure that I didn't want to wait until May when the nice specialist in Oakland had an appointment?
I was sure. The nice lady proceeded to quiz me on what cities, in fact, were near me. This is complicated by the fact that there are quite a few. "How about Sacramento?" she asked brightly.
* No.
We finally stumbled upon an office that was not only within 40 miles, but had an appointment the very next day! She made me an appointment. I congratulated myself on my good luck and headed for home. On the way, I called the office of Dentist #3 to inquire after what other information they'd need. The guy on the phone sounded altogether on the ball, and had sensible questions for me. (Since I did not care to be knocked entirely out, there were no particular special instructions.) He directed me to call him back once I got home so he could give me the email address so Dentist #1 could send over some recent x-rays.
02:23 PM azurelunatic: so it's New Jersey roulette as to whether you actually are allowed to visit that office (less lethal than Russian, but super obnoxious)
02:24 PM PurpleK: less lethal, more orange, and with more baffling clothing?
02:24 PM azurelunatic: That's the situation, yes.
02:24 PM azurelunatic: also The Situation
Dentist #1 took the email address and promised to send the x-rays.
05:31 PM azurelunatic: man ... if I go lie down now, I'm going to fuck up my sleep schedule entirely
05:31 PM azurelunatic: yet I am not super useful at the moment
05:32 PM PurpleK: read a book for quasi rest?
05:33 PM azurelunatic: I think the feeling of unusefulness is perhaps illusory
~
05:40 PM PurpleK: Level 6 Illusory Unusefulness
05:40 PM azurelunatic: :>
05:40 PM azurelunatic: I like you
05:40 PM azurelunatic: I like your face
~
05:49 PM azurelunatic: the phone rings!
The office of Dentist #1. The email had bounced, and was I sure I had given them the right address? I had. She'd made a typo. Ah well, better to check than not, right?
06:13 PM azurelunatic: ugh, pissed at [vendor] again
06:15 PM azurelunatic: [two paragraphs of terrible UI]
06:17 PM azurelunatic: It's that kind of day, I think.
azurelunatic hates (nearly) everything
06:26 PM PurpleK: the world's eatting crackers!
06:26 PM azurelunatic: and getting the damn crumbs in my bra
~
azurelunatic grumbles at the rest of the world
~
07:11 PM azurelunatic: grumble grumble grouse cranky sore tired stiff shouldered [menstrual woe] catless [ongoing woe] [ongoing woe] chilly zit on my nose single and my hair isn't 100% blue.
~
07:11 PM PurpleK: *HUGS*
azurelunatic leans
07:12 PM azurelunatic: it's been a day all right
Thursday morning dawns. Your correspondent is in a much better mood, has located the modern GPS so isn't relying on the good offices of the phone for navigation. They sail down to San Jose, arriving at the office of Dentist #3 in a generally timely fashion, although perhaps not quite soon enough to get through all the paperwork before 1. "And we just have to call your insurance for all the details..." concluded one of the ladies behind the desk. (Incidentally, my blue hair is the single best conversation starting feature I have ever had.) "Azure? Your insurance is an HMO. We don't take HMOs. You could still have the appointment? But it would be out of pocket?"
I allowed as how that would not be what I was doing today. Unlike Dentist #2, these ladies very reassuringly told me that they'd be shredding my paperwork.
I launched a call to the dental insurance. It's in my recent calls by now, and I know the phone tree well enough to get right to customer service. I inquired that did they know that this specialist, the one that they had referred me to, did not take HMOs? Like them?
I had got a very nice and competent agent with the name of a Crystal Gem. She was appalled, and promptly placed me on hold to start the process where a number of somewhat upset people talk to each other about important business matters. She returned, assuring me that another department would be calling them posthaste, and could she get my phone number so they could call me back and let me know what the actual fuck.
Meanwhile, I proceeded to get very lost on the freeways at that end of the Bay, but finally got myself turned around and pointed in the right direction. I blame myself for trying to avoid the fuck out of 101.
Dentist #3's office called back, sounding chagrined. I did not want an appointment for the following day. I successfully got myself off 101 and onto the road through Los Altos Hills back to 280.
Crystal called back, sounding indignant. The other department had explained the facts of life to the office of Dentist #3, and she filled me in on some of the obnoxious bureaucratic details. (This is out of network, therefore I would be paying 70% of the cost out of pocket. Yes, even though it was an emergency referral.) She gave me her extension number, which I promptly memorized. Unlike the person the day before, she asked me what county I was in (apparently this is the way to get a better office listing). We were going through the possibility of her just emailing me a whole whackton of offices so I could sort and call around, when I saw a car pulled off the side of 280 with blinkers on and a group of people holding up a "HELP" sign. My speech processors went partly offline, and I told Crystal "Ok yikes, someone's pulled off to the side of the road and they're holding up a sign that says HELP, I'm pulling over to see what's the, what's the, what's the..." I backed up to within a reasonable distance, and pulled over as far as I could to the curb to make sure I wouldn't get creamed by freeway traffic when I hopped out.
It was a flat. "Do you know how to change a spare tire?" one of the four fashionably dressed ladies (plus an older woman who might have been a mother or auntie) asked. As a matter of fact, I did! I flopped down in pushup position to examine the jack placement; I would later notice that the gravel had scratched up my shins some. (This is why I don't wear color. Doing bellyflops on the side of 280 and spilling coffee down my tits are both very bad for colored clothing.) They had the jack placed perfectly (I told them so) and then we began jacking up the car.
The lug nuts on the flat were not all of a type. Four looked pretty standard hexagonal to me, but the fifth was some weird-ass thing with a flower-like pattern, which google tells me is a locking lug nut. Fortunately they had the adapter, so I got that one off no problem. One of the ladies slipped it into her pocket or purse or something, and then I started tackling the other ones.
... and the wrench didn't fit.
I ran back to my car to dig around in the trunk to see if I had anything that would fit; the other two sockets I turned up were waaaay too small. But by that time CHP had pulled over, and things seemed to be well in hand. I waved off the offer of money, and headed on my merry way home (calling Nora because *omg*).
Tomorrow is Friday. Hooray Friday. I need to call Crystal back, to get that list of dentists, and reassure her that I am not quite literally dead in a ditch.
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no subject
This caused enough laughter to generally disturb my household. Thank you. I needed that.
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The Situation's windowed t-shirts are a running joke with Purple and me. Because, seriously, windowed t-shirts????!?!
I don't always feel obligated to pull over when I see someone by the side of the road, but when they're holding up a sign that says HELP, I kind of, yeah.