Mail call

I usually try to pick up my post office box mail once a week. Today was the day. Among the junk mail and catalogs and yes, a couple of good magazines, there was also a severely official-looking large envelope from my health insurer.

They were officially notifying me that they were denying the request from my vascular surgeon to get rid of the varicose veins in my legs that are causing the severe edema (which is, itself, causing the skin around my left ankle to deteriorate and cause sores that I have had to keep bandaged, and wrapped, for the past SIX MONTHS, since I ended up in the ER after a small varicose vein blew out in that ankle and I left a unit of blood on the sidewalk in front of the library). Nope, in the considered opinion of their paid third-party medical troll, I do not need to have the procedure, and so they will not pay a cent towards it.

Nice to know my insurer is just fine with me having raw meat for an ankle, and that I have to keep spending money on bandaging supplies. Hey, they get their payment from my retirement every month! Other medical expenditures are NOT. THEIR. PROBLEM.

I just... I hate everyone, and everything, right now. But I particularly hate Medical Mutual.