I got a phone call from a collections agency today; they were demanding (because collections agencies are not huge on the nice) that I pay them right-now-exclamation-mark for a medical bill I'd either already paid about half a year ago, or was new enough that the hospital hadn't even billed me yet (both transactions had similar balances, and figuring out which it was was part of the problem).
That's not very interesting. What's interesting, at least to me, is how much of my life is online.
Because this phone call was a complete out-of-the-blue surprise, I didn't have any documentation of dates of service or previous bills or any other paperwork with me. But I was able to gather all these things by just looking at a few places online.
I was able to get dates and amounts already paid from Mint, and further details on specific transactions through my banks' online sites. I got dates of doctor's appointments from Google Calendar, and further details on the timing of my MRI from Twitter. I was able to narrow down the end of my Orencia treatments and rheumatologist visits from this blog.
What's ironic, though, is that the hospital's online billing site, the insurance carrier's site, and the collection agency's payment site were all completely useless. They are annoying to use, their data is outdated, and they have no useful searching to speak of. They frequently error or time out, and the interfaces look dated; you're generally better off calling these companies, even considering how terrible most over-the-phone customer service (both in terms of competency, and, you know, service) is. These companies would do well to learn a thing or two from these flexible (and free) services.
In the end, we figured out where exactly the bill was coming from, and everything ended well. But that's not very interesting, either.
The point of this post is not to complain about stuff hurting, but just to give people an idea of how my rheumatoid arthritis affects all kinds of little things.
I got an iPhone a bit over a week ago. I figured I'd held off long enough (over a month), so it wouldn't be too bad of a crowd. There was still something of a wait--45 minutes to maybe an hour, which wasn't too horrible, except that it was warm, which makes my hands and feet swell up until they feel like inflated baseball mitts.
So, I sat outside and waited until it felt like I had balloons for hands and feet; eventually, a young employee in a brightly colored t-shirt called out my name. My husband, who had wandered off to the bookstore while I waited (I can't walk around the bookstore--well, I can't walk around the anything for more than 15 minutes), had returned by then, so he walked with me into the store to get the phone and get it activated.
The Apple Store, unlike most retail places, actually has some seating--there are some tall stools around the counters that someone might use while test-driving a computer. Unfortunately the stools were too tall for me--they would require me to stand on my tiptoes and l wiggle my butt onto them, and you try doing that on balloon feet. But, I am a nerd and the power of shiny new gadgets compelled me, so I persevered. The counters were high enough that I could lean on them somewhat comfortably.
Getting set up with AT&T took a bit longer than for most people--I have an unusual name, so the credit check involves more back-and-forth than normal. After that was all done, the employee handed me the box, cut the plastic shrink wrap on one side, and told me to get it out--I guess so I could bond with it.
I can't get the box to come open. I struggle with it for a while, but instead of offering help, the employee runs off to get a car charger. I give up and my husband opens the box for me. A similar struggle ensues when I try to get the damn thing out of the box. I know people wax poetic about Apple's packaging (seriously, this is why people hate Mac fanboys), but for someone with hand problems, it's just frustrating. The sales guy returns, and we walk a few tortuous steps to the counter across the way to plug it into a laptop and turn it on for the first time and activate it. There, sales guy asks me to plug it into the USB adapter, where another hilarious episode of "Sausage Hands Vs Things That Require Dexterity" takes place. I fumble for a while and apologetically try to explain to him that I have "bad hands" (because "I have an autoimmune condition and this goddamn weather is making my hands feel like water wings," just takes too long), and he just sits there; hubby to the rescue again. We pay and I waddle back to the car, where I am free to play with my shiny new toy, and bitch about Apple for not having copy and paste on their phone.
Because really, who does that.
