Today was the long awaited consultation appointment for possible cataract surgery.  It didn’t happen.

It has been nearly a year since I was told I had very bad cataracts. One eye (I call my reading eye) couldn’t even see the big black E. But even my good ‘distance’ had developed a cataract. I can still see to drive, and with reading glasses I can read a bit on my phone about 7″ from my eyes. This is still difficult and hurts my hands. Not to mention that every word I type has to be corrected.

So we had this appointment set up during the pandemic. Last week we got a call that I needed to get my Primary Care Physician to send approval.

That’s crazy. I had called my insurance to find the first ophthalmologist. You would think that when the eye doctor referred me to the surgeon it would be okay.

Nope. PCP needed to approve. And she was out of town last week. So yesterday I had to go see her. She said she’d get on it. Don’t worry just go to the eye surgeon.

You know that niggling feeling you get? Yeah. I decided we needed to call before driving two hours only to be turned away.

When I say ‘we’ it is because my husband is a great advocate for me. When I feel overwhelmed he will go to bat.

Hey, Chris:

Anyway, sure enough the fax didn’t make it and by the time it did it was going to be too late for the appointment.

I asked if there were helps for people like me who had trouble seeing. They just said ‘no’. I know there are but you need a doctor to sign off on them.

I’m a baby-boomer. I know I’m not alone in this. We’re not making enough money to have any choices but where’s the help?

Insurance robs me on every check. But where are they when patients and doctors agree treatment is necessary?

Okay, if you made it this far you win. โค๐Ÿค—๐Ÿ˜˜๐Ÿคทโ€โ™€๏ธ

Thank you for reading my rant.

But happy last day of summer!