For the past couple of weeks I've been nervously awaiting news on whether my health insurance company was going to see the PAO as "medically necessary" and authorize the op.
Because my patience extends to the equivalent length of a mosquito's eyelash, I couldn't wait any longer yesterday and called both my insurance company and Keri in Dr. Mayo's office. The good news is that they have declared it as necessary; bad news is that a teensy weensie part of me was hoping that both the world-class surgeon and my pain-ridden self were imagining that I needed this silly surgery. Ha ha.
So I guess we're a go. The insurance has only okayed me for 1 day in the hospital, but according to Keri, that's just the insurance's way of keeping track of patients. The nurses will update the insurance company once I'm in the hospital that I need to be there longer. "Don't freak out," Keri said.
I'm not. With the exception of having lots to do before I leave next week, I'm feeling strangely calm. I think the hectic nature of my life the past couple of months has been a blessing in disguise: I simply haven't had much time to let my mind get too wrapped up in how intense this whole thing really is.