But, I was afforded that opportunity several times courtesy of the hospital's billing department and what appears to be their on again/off again relationship with my insurance company. I happen to have very, very good insurance. I am fortunate. So when the bills for these afternoons of fun with the rays came in, they were of the little variety. Ten dollars here...twenty dollars there. Nothing major. But they certainly did seem to keep coming. And what lovely reminders of that special time they were!
But, still they kept coming. In fact, I began to notice a pattern with these bills and suspected that I was paying some of them multiple times. Of course the whole thing has been a Killing The Sheep A Nickel At A Time sort of mess and one that has resulted in some of the bills going to collections while I tried to figure out just who on earth was sending their kid to an ivy league school on my repeated ten dollar donations.
You know it's the end of civilization when the people at the collections company are nicer than the ones in the hospital's billing department. We became quite close for a while there. I'm probably invited to several christenings and the office holiday party at this point.
Time passed. The bills became less frequent and I finally seemed to have come to the end of the letters with the hospital's logo embossed upon them. Or at least that is what I thought. There was another one waiting for me in the mailbox today. To say that I ranted a bit would be an understatement. I am still searching for the top of my head in the snowbanks around the mailbox, so forcefully did it blow off my noggin.
But, victory is mine, it seems. Nestled within that envelope was not another bill. Oh no, my friends. It was a check! A check made out to Sheepie! A little restitution for my months of teeth gnashing and garment rending! Sometimes, the little guy does win!
We are going to ignore the fact that the check is for eighteen dollars and thirty seven cents and that the hospital checked the box which states that I am being refunded this money because the insurance company forked over this princely sum, instead of admitting that they billed me repeatedly and with great gusto. It is a check and it is in my name and it is from the hospital. That doesn't happen very often in my world.
I am going to celebrate with the purchasing of some gum. Maybe a trashy magazine to go with.
I am also wondering if this might just be a little warning from the Karma Patrol. Things have a way of balancing out in the universe and only so much good can come a person's way before a little of the bad creeps in to remind us that we are all mortal. It's best to be cautious at this point.
To that end, I determined that it was in my best interest to take the advice of the Lifeline Advocacy and pop one of those bad boys in the Invisibility Shawl without delay. Better safe than sorry.
Eighteen bucks and some new gum ain't gonna fix ten rows of bad knitting, now is it?