Passing For Normal

So I'm still recuperating from the septoplasty, right? Surgery on the inside of my nose, which remains swollen inside & out a couple of weeks after the fact (this is normal), not to mention gradually healing incisions inside the nostrils, yadda. Which means I still can't use my CPAP, so I'm still having a dreadful time sleeping. Apnea sucks. I love my CPAP and I miss it fiercely.

So I decide to shell out the $$$ for a full-face CPAP mask that will work with mouth-breathing. It will be worth it, especially since I can expect to get a cold every year or so and I'll get repeat use out of it. It's an expensive investment but it will pay off over time.

It takes days, but I finally get an appointment for this morning with Apria, my CPAP+supplies provider and spend a lovely 30 minutes with the respiratory therapist (who is awesome) going over the options and choosing one that feels great. Now all I need is for them (Apria) to print a "work order" and take my money and I can walk out the door with the new mask and, glory hallelujah, get some proper sleep tonight. Lying down! In a bed! Instead of sitting upright and wrecking my back and neck! Imagine the awesomeness!

THREE HOURS LATER: After people in three different departments of some central office somewhere have played shuffleboard with my "work order" I am finally told that as of one week ago, due to an agreement between Medicare (my health insurance provider) and Apria, Medicare patients are no longer allowed to pay out of pocket for anything. Ever.

Got that? I need this thing. It's a medical need. I have a prescription for the device and all associated supplies, of which this is one. But Medicare only pays for a new mask every six months and it's only been two months.

I NEED THIS THING. THEY WON'T PAY FOR IT. I AM WILLING TO PAY OUT OF POCKET. I HAVE THE CASH. I AM NOT ALLOWED TO BUY IT. THEY WON'T SELL IT TO ME. BECAUSE THEY SAID SO.

The lovely people in my local Apria office look deeply distressed on my behalf, and just as deeply confused. But there's nothing they can do except write down the name and size of the mask I need.

So I go to another medical supply place down the road that carries CPAP supplies. Yes, they could sell me this thing for cash, but I have to bring them a copy of my prescription first. Per California law, they cannot sell fuck-all that has anything to do with a CPAP without a prescription. It's a mask. A hunk of plastic with a silicon gasket. That's all. But no. So sorry. Yes, they know that will put this off at least another day, or possibly until early next week. Sorry, can't be helped.

Yes, a vendor in another state that doesn't have this law can sell me one and ship it to me here in California. But it has to come from another state.

I have now ordered what I need. It's coming from Texas, no prescription required. No power in the universe can get it to me before next Tuesday, apparently.

Isn't that just ducky.

No wonder the insurance-and-red-tape staff in my local Apria office looked harried and exhausted. They are surrounded by insanity.

I'm exhausted now, too. And trying not to cry because it's going to be five more days (and nights) before I can get a solid night's sleep in my own bed again.

The only thing getting me through this is that I blew $90 yesterday to spend an hour with my favorite massage therapist. She did manual lymph drainage on my face and neck, which will help bring the swelling down faster, and then went to town with her elbows on my back and shoulders, undoing the damage that sleeping sitting upright had done. It was a wild extravagance, but I was beyond caring about that. It was worth it. I'll pay for it somehow. Eventually.

God, this has been a siege. I'm so tired.