Ring! Ring! Mayhem Calling…

I’ve never been a huge fan of phone calls.  Maybe that’s because I grew up in the era when the newest technology consisted of a (gasp!) twenty foot phone cord that allowed me to walk all the way around the kitchen corner almost into the family room to talk.

I can still remember friends who would gasp in surprise at how long our phone cord was.


Phone avoidance became a luxury I could no longer enjoy once I became Mama to a medically fragile child with special needs.

Because I’m on the phone with doctors, specialists, and our stinkin’ insurance company all the time these days.  As a matter of fact, I’m waiting for a call back from our Pulmo even as I type.

Reed’s no help in this area either.  The phone rings and we just both stare at each other.  It’s a good thing we had kids, or else or phone would never get answered.


Phone avoidance really kicks in the night after Parker has had his monthly blood draw done.  My husband, Mr. Phone Avoider himself, will stoop to new lows to make sure he isn’t the one to have to talk to Cardio on the phone.   He instead makes sure I the sucker on the receiving end.  Cause my anti-anxiety pills are stronger than his are.


Yesterday I got one of those calls.  You’d think by now when the caller ID shows it’s my insurance company calling I’d be smart enough to just ignore it.  And I just might have if the blue eyed girl hadn’t been home to answer it for me.


On the other end of the line was a very apologetic man informing me that the humidifier that blew up a few weeks after my insurance company sold it to me, was now considered ‘patient owned’ which means that to fix it would require $500.00 out of our very empty pockets.


FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS to fix something that wasn’t even NEW when we got it.


This isn’t the first time this has happened to us.  My insurance company, after renting to us an oxygen concentrator, decided that we needed to buy it.  Now, this wasn’t a new oxygen conentrator mind you.  Nope this sucker was older than Noah.  Which is why our insurance company wanted to sell it to us.

Because I knew it was older than dirt, I put up a huge fuss, and got our patient owned concentrator, which while still very used, doesn’t beg for mercy each time we turn it on.

Alas, I had no idea of knowing how old the humidifier was.  But judging how many times the guy on the phone kept telling me how sorry he was, I’m pretty sure the scam is still going strong.


Guy on the other end of the line suggested that we try and talk our insurance company into allowing us to rent another humidifier.   But the letter I received in the mail today confirmed what we already knew.


We’re screwed.


What I really love about this letter can be found within it’s last lines:

Replacement of existing Durable Medical Equipment will only be covered if the replacement is Medically Necessary due to normal physical growth of the Covered Person.

Obviously it doesn’t matter if the existing Durable Medical Equipment WORKS or not, or if without the Durable Medical Equipment the Covered Person CAN’T grow because he will be dead.


Since yesterday’s phone call I’ve made many more phone calls to people about the Hero’s humidifier, which in turn has lead to even more phone calls as one person blows you off and points you to another person who promptly tells you that this should be handled by the person who not two minutes ago blew you off.

It’s funny how one phone call for a special needs Mama can turn into a hundred.

Which, now that I think about it, might be the real reason I hate phone calls so much.


PS: Parker does have a humidifier that he is using at the moment.  It’s the one that was left when the broken one was picked up to be fixed.  I’m just trying to get things figured out for when my HHC wants that one back.  Maybe if I hope hard enough my HHC may FORGET we have it?   A girl can hope, can’t she?   :)




  1. kadiera
    Mar 17, 11
  2. Tammy & Parker Mar 17, 11
  3. Sarah
    Mar 17, 11
  4. KDL
    Mar 17, 11
  5. McKinley Mar 17, 11
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