Sunday, February 23, 2014


It's been a long long time since a post but.....On this lazy Sunday afternoon John and I were looking for information we needed for a new insurance plan at work.  On my journey I found a letter my mom had written to her health insurance people approximately 21 years ago.  Mom had cut her hand on a lamp that Jonathan had broken and instead of insurance paying for the stitches, they sent her a questionnaire asking a million questions about how the injury happened.  Well, you don't mess with mama.  Below is the letter she wrote back to them:

Dear Madam ( She assumed it was a madam I think)

This is written in regards to the how, when and where question on reverse side.  

Approximately 9:02 pm EST (give or take a second or so), I had just drawn 12" of water into my shocking pink bathtub and proceeded to lower my hefty frame into said tub, when I heard an ear piercing scream from adjoining room.  Upon hearing said scream, I immediately raised my hefty frame out of the water and went dripping wet and buck naked into adjoining room to see what the matter was.  Upon entering said adjoining room, I found my twenty month old grandson standing in glass.  I picked him up to see if the little fellow was cut anywhere.  ( we call him little fellow as an endearment.)  He wasn't hurt as I could see, but he had played hell with my powder blue, hob nail antique lamp given to me by a dear dear friend, long since deceased.  It was broken into hundreds of pieces.  Upon cleaning up said mess, I removed all large pieces of glass and took remainder of the lamp to the garbage can which is located in the garage.  Upon throwing lamp in trash, I proceeded to cut my hand in a very precarious place.  It was right on the third joint of my left hand.  

I could see that I was in for it, because it was now 9:20 pm and my hand was bleeding like a stuck hog.  (That's an old farm expression)  I could see the wound couldn't be butterflied or that my husband didn't have the stomach for sewing up such a gaping wound, so I wrapped a washcloth around my hand, got my sister, and headed for the emergency room at Union Hospital.  Why didn't my husband take me?  Because he has to get up for work at 4 am so he can pay for this damn insurance that gives me a hassle every time I need to use it.  

I arrive at emergency room upon which I waited 4 and a half hours to be waited on.  The ER doctor put SEVEN painful stitches in my hand and patted me on the back and said "have a nice night"

Now, if you think I abuse your insurance, believe me I have had some health issues lately lately, but keep in mind my husband has used it very little.

If I can just hold on a little longer, maybe Uncle Bill and Aunt Hillary's health care plan doesn't sound so bad after all!!!

Vivian Tedrick 

Yes, she sent this and yes the bill was paid.  I would love to have been in that office when they read this.  I know what we would have done at our office.....we would have put it on Facebook of course.