And the headache continues

I hate medical insurance.

I know, I know. "Hate" is a very strong word. It's not often I use that word and truly mean it. But in this case, I feel absolutely justified in my use of it. Medical insurance has caused nothing but trouble in my life. When dealing with cancer several years ago, the insurance carrier who my employer was using refused to pay any of my bills, claiming it was a "pre-existing condition." They stuck me with around $60,000 in medical bills. Needless to say, this has caused some problems in my life. Now today, cancer is once again being... well... cancerous.

After getting all treated and "cured" of all that nasty cancer business, I still have to go in for yearly checkups. I have to get my blood drawn to make sure that my T3, T4 and thyroglobulin levels are good. I have to get an ultrasound on my neck to make sure nothing's regrown. And I have to shake my doctor's hand and say "Thanks for not letting me die!" It's a pretty simple set of procedures, really, but it's costly nonetheless. For that trouble, the doctor's office charges $641. Ouch. Not to fear, medical insurance to the rescue! ...or maybe not. While they were kind enough to get the charges reduced to $221.91 due to "preferred rates" (umm...what?), they didn't actually pay any of it. Not a single penny. Nada. But wait, my work has planned for just such a problem! We have a second bit of coverage titled "Hospital Confinement Indemnity (GAP) Insurance." Yes, that does say "Hospital." No, I did not get this work done at a hospital. Don't worry, I'll come back to that. So now, a few phone calls, emails and hours later, I've got a GAP (is this supposed to be an acronym for something? Because I sure don't see it...) claim form to fill out and send along to this OTHER insurance company. As I am informed by our insurance carrier however, they will not cover the office visit. They will only cover the procedures performed there. So this leaves me with $61.37 (their cute little preferred rate) to pay of an original $641 bill. Not bad; I can handle that. After filling out the form, gathering up my doctor's bill, my original insurance explanation of benefits (in which they explained that they are going to do absolutely jack,) I faxed off all 9(!) pages to the GAP insurance company. Done deal! I should have a check in my hand within 10 days; fantastic!

But wait, you say, what about that "Hospital" business? This is where I get confused. I did not have my procedures performed at a hospital. I have not even been to a hospital in some time (knock on wood) and that is perfectly okay with me. This GAP coverage is specifically worded to be for hospital confinement resulting from sickness or injury. Granted, there is an "outpatient" section under which I may theoretically be covered, but I'm not holding my breath. Our insurance broker is absolutely certain this will be covered. After all, that's exactly why we got this silly second bit of coverage. Why wouldn't it cover it?

I'm just waiting to cringe and bend over at this point.

I hate medical insurance.

No wonder our nation is obese

You know, it really saddens me (and in fact, enrages as well) to read news headlines, every single day, along the lines of "Weight Lifting Benefits Breast Cancer Patients," and "Health Buzz: Diet and Excercise Protect Brain and Other Health News." Those are just two examples taken straight from Google News today. If I go digging onto individual news outlets, I get more wonderful gems. Take, for instance, this one from CNN: "Could Fat Babies Mean Fat Toddlers?"

Seriously, people? Is our nation really that mentally challenged that we still can't figure out what keeps us at the top of the list of fattest countries in the world? Here, let me save everybody a whole lot of time and sum it all up in one quick sentence: Healthy diet, combined with regular exercise, will keep you healthy.

DONE.

If you want to lose weight, start jogging. If you want to gain muscle, lift weights. If those don't sound attractive to you, take up another hobby involving physical activity; dance, hiking, rock climbing, soccer, swimming, ANYTHING. It's not that difficult of a formula here, people. We're not searching for the elusive Higgs Boson. We're not trying to find the last digit of Pi. It's a simple matter of common sense and paying attention to your own body.

There is, of course, one other important message buried in this rant; most especially in that last paragraph. That message, for those of you who didn't notice, is: If you're not happy with the way you are, CHANGE. Don't say "I wish I was healthier;" do something about it!

If you find this posting offensive, first off, thanks for reading far enough to even become offended. That shows that you found some relevancy here. Second, try to think about why exactly it offends you. Hit too close to home? Think hard. Then do something about it.

The Joey Pizza

Alright so I've been enjoying this pizza so much (in fact, a few cold slices served as breakfast this morning -- yes, it is incredible cold) that I decided I should post it up here to share with the world. Really, I can't take credit for the creation myself. That credit goes to Eric Geryol, owner of Boulders on Broadway, which is a bar I happen to frequent. The reason this pizza is that I was on a low iodine diet at the time, and there was no way Eric was going to let me be stuck at home because no restaurants would cater to me. Out of the many dishes I tried, this one stood out in amazing glory. Now granted, there is *some* iodine in this pizza, because there are minimal amounts used in the dough and perhaps a bit in the pizza sauce (I have also gotten it without the sauce though and it is still wonderful.) This pizza can be easily made at home, however, using the pizza dough and tomato sauce recipes from ThyCa's low iodine cookbook.

Anyhow, without any further ado, the pizza is as follows:

• Thin crust (essential!)
• No cheese
• Pizza sauce (optional, as noted above)
• Artichoke hearts
• Garlic (actual chunks, not just powder)
• Basil
• Balsamic vinegar

The vinegar should be drizzled over the top before cooking. In my opinion, you can't really be too liberal with this. The sweet/tart flavor of the vinegar really makes the pizza. Cook it until the crust is a light golden brown and enjoy!

Not only is this pizza one of the staples of my low iodine diet, I have continued ordering it regularly since... and other people have actually called me up to ask what was on it so that they could order it as well!

If you try this pizza out, let me know what you think! Also, if you happen to be around Tempe, AZ and craving a pizza, I highly recommend stopping into Boulders on Broadway and trying out the original! This place has the best pizza in town, by far.

Enjoy! Also keep a look out, I may be posting some more recipes soon, as I'm starting back on the diet for a few weeks.

Why I Hate Doctors.

Or, "Surprise! You've got cancer."

Yes, that's the news I heard today when I went to a second doctor. Luckily, it's not a serious cancer. The name is some ridiculously long medical mumbo-jumo for thyroid cancer. Am I scared? Not really. Every person I know in the medical field assures me that this is the "best" cancer you can have. It's basically 100% curable. I just have to have my thyroid removed, take a radioactive iodine pill, and then take thyroid supplements for the rest of my life. Simple enough.

For my last surgery, yes, I was scared. Everything was unknown. I had never had surgery before. I had never been put under before. I wasn't even sure I trusted the doctor. I was scared. Luckily, his colleague was there to assist with the surgery, and was greeted warmly when we went into the OR. This made me go under with a nice warm fuzzy feeling, not entirely brought on by the medications they were pumping through my system.

This time. I know what's going to happen. I already have the experience of being put under, and I already trust this doctor who will be performing the surgery. Let me explain this whole big trust thing going on here a little more. I'll start from the beginning. First off, right when I meet the first doctor, Dr. Douglas Smith, he's got a smile that belongs on a used car salesman. A bit creepy. But he seems to know his shit. He checks the lump, looks down my throat with a scope, says it's most likely just a cyst but we're going to get a CT to check it out and then proceed with surgery to get it removed. We are also going to try, as another possible route, some antibiotics... according to Dr. Smith, cysts will sometimes react to antibiotics because they can be just large infections. Sounds good to me.

So, head from the doctor's office, off to the pharmacy to pick up that antibiotic. May as well get it taken care of right away. Get to the pharmacy, give the script to the pharmacist.... he pulls up my medical records... looks at the script... looks back at my medical records... looks at me... and asks, "What doctor gave you this prescription?"

A bit confused, I tell him, "Dr. Douglas Smith."

After which he asks me for Dr. Smith's phone number. Still confused, I give him the phone number for the doctor and inquire as to why he might need it. "Your records state that you are allergic to amoxicillin." I confirm with a nod. "What kind of reaction do you get when you take it?"

Getting even more confused, since I know the doctor didn't prescribe me amoxicillin, I simply tell him "Hives."

"That's one step in allergic reaction before anaphylactic shock. This prescription is for a derivative of amoxicillin and could possibly kill you if you have the same reaction to it."

This was quite shocking. Obviously. A major screwup which could have been potentially very disastrous. At this point, I should have gotten a clue.

I never claimed to be very bright.

So we got my prescription fixed and, being that it was only a far outside chance that it would have any effect anyhow, it did nothing. A week later, I got a phone call telling me that a surgery date had been set and I needed to come in and finalize some paperwork. "Well," I figure, "he specializes in surgery... not medicine." Stupid rationalization, I know. I managed to convince myself with it though, because I wanted this over with. Plus I was scared out of my wits... that may have had something to do with it. I need to get somebody to go along with me for these types of things and smack me with a billy club when I do something stupid. But I digress...

On the morning of Wednesday, August 29, 2007, I go in for surgery. Dr. Smith comes in with his far-too-toothy smile to greet me before surgery. I'm bodily shaking... only in part because of my reaction to needles... what with a large IV needle sticking out of my arm now and all. However, when we get into the OR, I hear a friendly "Ah, Dr. Bartell, it's good to see you!" (Dr. Thad Bartell is Dr. Smith's aforementioned associate.) Next thing I knew, I was waking up 2 hours later in the recovery room, receiving several doses of morphine and demerol. I was happy.

About a week later, Dr. Smith calls me up to tell me that I need to speak with a Dr. Glenn Rothman. He's rather vague about why. All he tells me is that there was "a growth" in the middle of the cyst that was removed, and it is likely "a common thyroid problem," which is "easily curable." Well, that doesn't sound so bad. I set up an appointment with the new doctor and go about my business, figuring it's something caused from hyperthyroidism. That's not so bad. I can deal with that.

Today, I went in for my appointment, and after talking for less than a minute, Dr. Rothman asks me, "Wait, what exactly did Dr. Smith tell you about why you were coming here?" So I tell him what Dr. Smith told me. The next words out of his mouth, I could never hear again from a doctor and be live perfectly happy. "I'm so sorry," he told me. He then proceeds to tell me what Dr. Smith should have. That this growth was in fact cancerous, although it is easily treatable. Amazingly I maintained my cool through this whole thing... I think. Next step, Dr. Rothman is ordering the results of my CT scan and scheduling a chest x-ray and ultrasound just to be absolutely certain that nothing is missed. He's thorough. I like that. He's candid, he's kind, to the point, sincere. This guy, I feel I can trust. I hope. At least I can be more analytical with this one. I've already looked into his credentials. They seem impressive enough. I don't know anybody who knows of him, but I'm going to keep asking around.

I just want this all over with.

Then, no more doctors. For a long, long time.

Franken-me!

So uh yea, for those who don't know, I had surgery on Wednesday morning. I just now took the gauze off, and this is what I was greeted by!

Holy monkey! When he told me 9 stitches, I was figuring on something smaller than this! Kinda cool though... just too bad it isn't Halloween, I wouldn't even need a costume! Anyhow, just thought I would share this with the world. :)

Milk does the muscles good

Just a small bit of interest... a new study suggests that skim milk is far more likely to promote muscle growth than alternative soy supplements. It's something to do with differing types of protein. While soy does have sufficient protein to keep you healthy, it isn't as helpful as casein for building muscle mass. Now that I've started working on building muscle, maybe I should be drinking more milk...

Anyhow, here's the article: http://www.cnn.com/2007/HEALTH/diet.fitness/04/19/skim.milk.reut/index.html