Hey Regence: you suck!

Remember this awkward-looking ankle brace that I came home with a few months ago?

Like my cool purple cast and my Storm Trooper boot, it was provided to me by the doctors and nurses at Harborview’s Foot and Ankle Clinic. Apparently it would stabilize my ankle as I weaned off the Storm Trooper boot. Did I stop my health care team as they handed the brace to me, indicating its necessity, and ask to call my insurance company to make sure it was covered?

No, I did not.

As the nurse at Harborview Medical Center explained to me how to lace up my new brace, did I excuse myself to investigate whether the brace would be considered an “over-the-counter item or service,” which Regence healthcare plan expressly does not cover?

No, I did not.

See, I assume that when I’m in the hospital, being cared for by the medical team that has seen me through my entire ordeal, from the surgery to the rehabilitation, I don’t need to worry about my insurance company dictating what my doctors and nurses can and can’t provide for me as they aid in my recovery.

Hell, Regence covered my knee walker, my crutches, my Storm Trooper boot… and even the silly shampoo cap in the hospital, so why did they decide not to cover this brace?

I have NO FRIKKIN’ CLUE!

I appealed their decision, giving all these arguments for why I believe that my brace (which, by the way, I wore maybe twice) should have been covered. Today I received a letter from Regence stating that the original claim processing will stand because the brace is considered an over-the-counter item -- even though it was provided to me by medical doctors and nurses -- and (get this!) “no calls were received prior to services being rendered to verify benefits.”

Really? I’m supposed to interrupt my doctors at every turn, every time they provide me with an item or service to aid in my recovery, to go call Regence and verify coverage? I should have called my insurance company when the cast was removed and I was given the boot? I should have called Regence when I needed crutches to walk?

Seriously?

Bullshit.

I will appeal this decision too, and escalate my appeal to a corporate review board, because this is ridiculous!

Poopy on you, Regence! Just poopy on you. Today I think you SUCK.

Almost as bad as a “What I had for Lunch” post

So I got a new cell phone today.  Before you get all “la-dee-da” and “whoop-dee-do” on me, allow me an evening to be downright excited about this cool little geeky gizmo.

 

My kids text like crazy. In fact, they rarely call anyone, preferring to text them instead.  Kat’s had this Samsung Alias phone for about a year. I’ve been envious because I’ve been texting more and more these days but it’s been really arduous with my old phone: press the “9” key three times for “y,” press the “6” key three times for “o,” and press the “8” key three times for “u.” 

Yawn.

But behold!  My new phone has a real keyboard!  Yes, I know that I’m a two-finger typist, but still – texting with this thing is really fast… even for me!

And if that’s not enough, listen to my new ringtone:

Yeah, I know it’s kinda seasonal, but I like it!  The other two options were the theme to “Dr. No” and a meowing cat.  Maybe I’ll tire of this quickly and try one of those.

OK, I’m done with this boring post now.  I promise I won’t write about getting a new cell phone again.

Unless I get an iPhone… and then you better believe that I will write a drippy, gushy, frikkin’ LOVE LETTER to my phone!  But until the kids graduate and have their own plans, and we’re not paying for six cell phones, that’s not about to happen.

Welcome to my PT appointment!

You might think that “PT” stands for “physical therapy,” but you’d be wrong.  Let me assure you, “PT” definitely stands for “pain and torture.” 

And silly me – I keep going back!

This is where I subject myself to PT twice a week.

The ProClub gym – which has a full physical therapy department – is ever so conveniently (and coincidentally)located immediately behind the Microsoft building where (coincidentally) the Surface team is located, for whom I am (coincidentally) managing a marketing project!  With that kind of convenience, you’d think I’d want to show up there every day.  But for now, twice a week is just dandy, thanks.

Here’s the torture chamber physical therapy department:

This is my pain and torture station:

And this is Mary Ellen, my PTS (no, that’s not short for “physical therapy specialist”; it’s short for “pain and torture sadist”!).

What?  You don’t believe anyone that cute could hurt a fly?  You think she looks to sweet to cause me pain and torture?

Ok – FINE!  You’re right!  She is a sweetheart and she is really kind… and I am slightly melodramatic. 

She actually spent the first 25 minutes of my appointment today massaging my foot.  This way…

…and that way…

Pulling and prodding and tugging and pulling with her skilled (yet torturous!) hands. 

See? I suffered!  (That’s me doing my slow, patterned breathing.  Really!)

Can you believe that my ankle is still swollen and I still can’t fit it into my regular shoes?!  I really am beginning to wonder if I’ll ever wear my regular shoes again.

After the torturous massage (believe me, this ain’t no garden variety “foot massage!”), I was subjected to this odd ramp.

The idea is to stand on the ramp and touch your knee to the wall until it hurts – and then some.  I swear, everything’s “until it hurts, and then some.”

Or, worse -- “it’s supposed to hurt… that means you're doing it correctly!”  Now that’s just mean!

After the incline, I was forced to endure the bed of nails “Shuttle” exerciser.

This is my least favorite exercise in the whole place, but only partly because it hurts.  Mostly I don’t like it because it’s booooring!  Down, up, down, up.  OK, now up, down, up, down… Boooring!

Then I’m subjected to the humiliation of standing like a flamingo! OK, it’s not humiliation (I’m sure flamingos are very nice pink birds) as much as the pain.  Standing on one foot a soft, squishy thing for 30 seconds might sound easy to you, but ask anyone who recently broke an ankle – it’s… it’s… torture!!

Of course I do the exercise happily and with a smile on my face.  (Notice that you can’t see my face.)

The last exercise I do each time I come to the Pain and Torture chamber is this funny round wedge thing – which I call the “record”… and then people then call me “OLD.”

The idea here is to touch the entire round outside ledge to the floor by moving your ankle in a circle.  Can I just say, “Yeeeooouuuuccch!”?  Amazingly enough, though, all these things are just slightly less uncomfortable each time I visit.

After I abuse my foot (and allow others to abuse my foot) for a full hour, a cool ice pack is zipped around my foot…

…and pumped full of air so my foot is hugged lovingly for a good 10 minutes.

Sometimes – though not today -- I’m even hooked up to electrodes and a bizarre electrical current (scared me the first time!) using this machine:

Other than scaring chicken patients like me, the electrical stimulation is apparently good for reliving pain and reducing swelling.  Still, the idea of electricity and electrodes and current scares me and it took me a while to relax while the therapist increases the power till I “can feel it”! 

Today, though, I got to just relax – once my foot was numb from the cold, anyway.

I almost fell asleep.

But then it was time to head off to work, followed by, and following, these guys:

  And then the “pain and torture” really begins!

(Because I’m melodramatic, of course.)

Sunday Morning Solitaire

Self-inflicted rules:

1. All letters must be used.
2. 15-minute time limit.
3. All words must have some personal relevance.

Who did the QA on this Onesie?

Twisted Tunes

When I was commuting an hour or more to work each morning, my constant radio companions were Bob, Spike, Joe and Kaci, of the Bob Rivers Show on 102.5 KZOK radio in Seattle. They kept me laughing all the way along the 520, 405 and 5 freeways and often I arrived at work hardly even aware of the long drive or the traffic, thanks to my radio buddies.

My commute is now much shorter and Bob and friends are usually just finishing their morning show when I get into my car, but I still try to catch the last few minutes of the show, hoping for a Twisted Tune.

Bob and Spike are the talented and creative minds behind these hilarities (and Bob’s son is the producer of the best of them), and although the radio versions are great, these music videos are even better! If you live in the Seattle area, you might be able to catch one for yourself. If you’re elsewhere, here’s a little treat for you:

The ultimate employee benefit at Microsoft

Microsoft is known for an amazingly generous employee benefits package that’s the envy of any employee anywhere (except perhaps a Google-ite). 

Here is just a short list of some of the benefits Microsoft offers its “blue badgers” (in other words, its FTE’s… in other words, full-time employees – which, unfortunately, I am not):

• 100% health coverage (employee and family – including vision and dental)
• No payroll contribution
• No deductible
• 100% prescription drug coverage (and no formulary list)
• Health club membership
• 8 weeks paid maternity/paternity leave
• $5000 toward adoption
• Childcare discounts (with total back-up care)
• Life insurance
• Disability insurance (ahem!)
• Matching 401K
• Discounted employee stock plan
• Tuition assistance
• Matching charitable contributions (a huge boon to local schools where Microsofties’ kids’ attend)
• Discounted financial services (and discounted rates all over the region – just show ‘em your badge!)
• Lots of vacation (though I’d guess most are too swamped to take it?!)
• Free bus pass for Puget Sound region (worth thousands!)
• Microsoft commuter buses
• A company store where employees can buy most Microsoft software for $10.
• Free drinks (juices, sodas, coffee, etc… but interestingly, not bottled water!)
• And of course, those services that keep you at work longer and living your life less: “Free grocery delivery, on-site dry cleaning and laundry services, convenience shopping, and dinners to go help you enjoy time saving conveniences.”

  The free drinks gig is pretty nice (these coolers are everywhere on campus) and I’ll occasionally grab a soda or two, just to stock up…

And the Starbuck’s coffee is free and endlessly flowing – and ground just for you…

Pretty cool, eh? 

But you know what they forgot to mention?  THIS:

That’s right – FREE TAMPONS at Microsoft!  See…?

Obviously (see blog banner), this is a benefit that really doesn’t apply to me, but still – how many companies do you know that offer to bring your groceries and dry cleaning to you at work… and that attend to your personal hygiene needs?

And while we’re swooning over Microsoft benefits, why don’t we go ahead and swoon a bit over the newest buildings on the mammoth Microsoft campus (its hundreds of buildings basically blanket all of Redmond, Washington), “The Commons.”  You can read more about it here, but suffice it to say, veeeerrrry cool!

I think I know where I’ll be hanging out and plugging in quite a bit from now on! 

I took a few photos when I was at a meeting there today.  Even on this gray, gloomy, rainy day, it was glorious:

And of course, my very own preferred parking place (at least until August):

A tour through my “Old Pictures” folder

A few years ago my brother Michael amassed photos of our parents’ young lives as well as of our shared childhood.  He created CDs for my parents and siblings that year and gave them to us for Christmas. Although I didn’t fully appreciate it at the time, I’ve come to covet this CD.

This might be totally yawn-producing for you, but hey – it’s today’s post.  Bear with me, enjoy, or click the X… it’s totally up to you!

 

This is my parents’ campsite from the early 50’s, before I was born.  Not sure if it was in Germany or America; I’d guess America. Look at the car!

This is my (ever so foxy, dontcha think?!) dad, playing the “Church and Steeple” finger game with my brother Michael.  Dad is now almost 81 and Michael is 57.

This is Mom blowing lederhosen-clad “Mickey-Michael’s” nose.  My parents and Michael immigrated to America in 1953 – probably shortly after this picture was taken, obviously in Germany.

My aunt Ulli and Mom, waxing (?) their skis in Seefeld, Germany in 1952.  Interesting skis… interesting car… interesting clothes!

This is my mom’s uncle, Willi Merkl, who died climbing in the Hamalayas in the early 30s.  There’s a street named after him in Traunstein, Bavaria, my mom’s hometown.

This is my dad at the age of five.  Looking at this picture, I just want to mommy him.  Now THAT is weird!

These are my parents’ wedding pictures, taken in July, 1952.  At their 50th wedding anniversary, my brother insisted on doing a toast about this day because, as he says, he “was there.”  Scandalous!

 

This is my maternal grandfather, Max.  He’s a damn good-looking Bavarian dude, isn’t he?!

And this is my paternal grandfather, Carl.  He was a German-Jewish banker.  More is written about him here.  It’s a fascinating story!

This is my dad arriving in America to begin a new life!

This is the house I grew up in, in Berkeley.  (Before it looked like the pictures in this post…)

This my mom graduating from Cal in 1968, amid massive riots and student activism.  It was a very different place in 2006 when Elisabeth graduated from Cal!

This is me with my three brothers, in about 1962.  (Yes, the same brothers as in this picture…

…taken last month!)

Here we are again, conserving water.

This picture of me must have been taken before I was 18 months old.  How do I know that?  Because I still had two thumbs on my right hand (look closely!).  One of those was removed when I was 18 months old – and yes, it still looks odd now and yes, I’m still self-conscious about it!

This is one of my favorite pictures of me as a little kid because I look really happy and because I’m with my mommy.

…as opposed to this one, in which I look kinda snooty and stuck-up!

Here’s the question: did I wear a dirdl dress voluntarily?  Or did Mom force me to wear it?  I don’t remember… so that must mean I wasn’t traumatized by it, right?

There’s another dirdl!  I must have been traumatized!

My mom loved this photo.  One year, about 10 years ago,  she even gave a copy of it to all her kids for Christmas!  Isn’t it odd that she’s the only one who looks really good in it?

Fast forward a few years…

…and a WHOOOOLE lot more… like 30 more.  Until after Mom died and Dad fell in love with Lou (whom I adore too) -- and we are still proud to call ourselves a family.

And really, it’s ALL happened in just a proverbial blink of an eye.