Life is not always gumdrops and lollipops. If it were, we'd all have diabetes. Today was one of those not-so-stellar days. I have been dealing with the medical community for the better part of my life. It's just what happens when you have a disability.
Instead of checkups every once in a while, (or as some of my ancestors would say--If it ain't broke, don't fix it) I visit the doctor quite regularly. From monitoring cardiovascular systems, to physical therapy for joint instability, to out and out hospital stays, let's just say I am not unfamiliar with various treatment facilities. Sometimes, the experience is not-too-bad (I wouldn't ever go as far to say that I actually enjoy going to the doctor), sometimes it's frustrating, and sometimes going to the medical professionals is downright awful.
Today, was one of those frustrating days. Upon visiting a Prosthetic and Orthotics company, I met a clinician who was relatively kind. Among other things, P&O clinics are able to provide what is known as splints for joints that simply cannot remain bent in the appropriate manner. Splints limit the range of motion to protect and preserve joints, which are one of the more vulnerable areas of the musculoskeletal system.
With my lack of collagen and woeful propensity for falling by twisting and rolling my joints, splints and braces are medically necessary. However, when patented technology refuses to work with insurance companies...those of us who already spend a regretful amount on medical care are suddenly stuck. It doesn't matter if you walk around with a prescription if no one is willing to order the splints because (as I found out today) the Prosthetic and Orthotics company will take a hit, monetarily speaking.
I can't really blame the poor guy for practicing sound business ideology, nor can I blame the company that patented their technology. Companies have to protect themselves. But, I cannot say that I was pleased with how the visit went. It took months to get into the clinic, and the alternative to splints is to merely deal with the pain. Even though I understood, I was devastated.
The unfortunate truth is that sometimes the answer to wishes, hopes, prayers, and dreams...is a no. It's not an uncommon thing to hear in all aspects of life. Whether it be a job you were hoping to get, a relationship you were trying to find, or a life you were planning to lead, the answer no permeates our lives.
The funny thing about the word no, though, is that it doesn't always stay that way. Dreams that I thought long gone suddenly come true. A different, and better, pathway opens up to me. New and enriching people come into my life that make the loss of others feel, somehow, a little less. Sometimes the word no simply is only part of the story.
I am choosing to believe that this no is simply part of a greater answer: not yet.