Excuse My Rant

I’m making it official.  I’m literally losing my mind.  And I HATE the word literally but it applies in this situation.  I wake in the morning hating AFLAC. I can’t concentrate during the day because my mind is constantly going back to the frustrations with AFLAC. I can’t sleep at night because I’m planning what my plan of attack will be tomorrow in my quest to get what is due us from AFLAC.

I’ve mentioned many times that the purpose of my blog was multi-faceted.  It started as a way to keep Scott’s friends and family up to speed with his battle with cancer.  The Facebook group morphed into an international blog as I found writing was a wonderful method of stress management for me and people were inspired and moved by my content.  I really felt I was being called to write so that I could make a difference in the lives of people suffering with unexpected confrontations with cancer.  I wanted to make a difference. 

Yesterday was Christmas with our children.  The day I’ve been looking forward to for almost a month.  With a mixed family, not every one is as blessed as we are.  Our four children are all married now and all eight of them range in age (give or take a year) from 29 to 36 and we have one amazing living grandchild that is just over a year old.  They are all unique and special and have a common bond; the desire to see their parents happy.  Better yet they all seem to have fun getting together.  They tell stories and bond over food and as their parents, we couldn’t be happier to see this happen. 

I typically work on Saturday mornings at the store; but yesterday I took it off so that I could prepare my food and get the final touches on the house.  I can’t take credit for cleaning the house as I have a cleaning lady who came Friday and did the dirty work.  I know I sound very spoiled but as someone who worked two jobs their entire life, I feel like having a cleaning lady is my reward.  I couldn’t live without her now.  Not to mention, managing a business and working there is still working. 

I woke with hopes of a great day but the next thing I knew, I was thinking about AFLAC.  I called my mom and invited them down since the weather was good and the roads were cleared.  She asked if I saw what someone posted on my cousin’s Facebook page in response to my comment about AFLAC.  That was all it took for my entire day to spiral into a hate fest against AFLAC.  I was late getting my food made, ended up staying in my stretch pants all day – including for the family photo and let it cloud my entire day.  It was a great day of laughter, great food and nice gifts but all I could think about was AFLAC and how they are screwing us over.  My step-daughter gave me the greatest gift of all; a necklace calling me her bonus mom.  For a person that doesn’t cry; I cried, then and now. 

I know that I have so much to be thankful for.  People in other countries are starving and living each day in fear for their life; for that matter so many people in America live each day in fear of where their next meal is coming from.  Which all brings me back to AFLAC; that’s how warped my mind has become.  I sit here in my middle-class version of a Taj Mahal with the dog at my feet, my husband by my side and my bills are paid.  It doesn’t matter that we are fine.  I know I should be thankful that Scott is still here.  We have the financial backing of my 401k and what used to be a nice savings account; so why is it all I can think about is the $10k or so that I’m owed by AFLAC.  That I have no idea how to get that money.  I’ve tried submitting all the documentation and the excuses just keep coming.  I’ve read plenty comments on-line from others, including insurance agents, that have faced the same.  Sure there are people that chime in and say that they had a policy and were paid generously and timely.  But the fact is there are many that have not.  Hiring a lawyer will only mean doing the same work, forwarding it to them so they can forward it to AFLAC with a stern warning.  End up paying the lawyer everything we get then some?

People that don’t know me will comment that you need to provide them with the right paperwork, that they need proper documentation. Feel sorry for me because I must be stupid and don’t know how to manage technology. Well let me provide an example. I submitted a claim for the $7k benefit for undergoing a stem cell transplant. I provide a cover page telling what I was expecting from this particular claim and noted what page of the hospital bill included the actual charge for the transplant. I uploaded the 100-plus page hospital bill and the doctors notes from the day of the procedure and his discharge notes referencing the transplant. Pretty cut and dry in my mind. Nope – I get notice that my claim is denied because I have not included “proof of lodging”. What in God’s green earth does that have to do with getting paid for the transplant? You can’t be serious? They paid the claim for his 39 days in the hospital so you already acknowledged where he was lodged. Where I stayed is not part of this claim.

I’m feeling the pull for a greater purpose.  I seriously want to lead a class-action suit against AFLAC for mental pain and anguish.  Not so much for me, but for the people out there that I know probably ended up losing their house or car because they were sick or injured and didn’t get the money they signed up for with AFLAC and lost everything.  For all the people that left money on the table because they just couldn’t do it anymore.  Because they thought a multi-billion dollar company was just too big to tackle.  Because after months of dealing with the system, they are just too broken down and defeated to keep fighting.  I keep trying to tell myself that I am not that broken and defeated person and that I will win this thing but I don’t know any more.  While my only concern should be that my husband gets better and decides to participate in life again, all I can think about is AFLAC.  Nothing could be more wrong but I can’t control it.  It consumes me and makes me feel like a terrible person. 

Jumping In with Both Feet

The Motto for 2022 that I didn’t choose

I love the water but I’m not a great swimmer.  Take me to the middle of the calm lake and I’ll be one of the first ones to jump off the boat.  Feet first with toes pointed down with the intention of heading all the way to the bottom, only to bounce back up to the surface.  Experiencing the changing temperatures as I go; sometimes with eyes wide open and always with my nose plugged.  What I consider the perfect balance of courage, adventure and self-preservation.  I can free float with the best of them, but don’t expect me to swim to save myself.  These analogies pretty much sum up my personality and skill-set; things I take with me as I head into the scariest adventure of my life.  Realizing that the trials and tribulations that got me to where I am today were the life events that didn’t kill me; but made me strong enough to tackle the task at hand.  Pausing daily life to tackle cancer.  As my husband prepares for a stem cell transplant, I hope to share what I have learned on our journey in hopes of making someone else’s experience just a little more manageable.