All it took was one letter.

Just two hours ago I was enjoying a great conversation with my new coworker. We were talking about food and crock pots and crazy roommates and what we planned to do with our lives.

Just two hours ago I was describing my hopes and dreams as if they were just natural steps around this so called life I planned to live. I talked about paying off my loans and working a lot and spending time in Cuba and perhaps moving within the company to work on a more global scale.

But then a customer walked in and my shift was over and I headed home.

I don’t really get mail. But today I got a thick envelope from my insurance company.

Thicker than normal.

My insurance decided that I’m not getting Botox.

Cut my life into pieces… this is was. literally. my last resort.

Three years ago I was asked if I would consider it. I said no.

Then I had a migraine every day and it interrupted my whole life. Still I said no.

I moved and in the months it took before getting to see a doctor, I battled the question. I cried at night in terror of thought of screwing up my face if the specialist chosen to inject the Botox messed up.

I read countless horror stories. But for every horror story there were a hundred success stories. So, I got up the nerve in January to say yes when asked if I was interested in Botox.

He sent in the referral request, but before it could go through, I had him stop the request as I no longer wanted him to treat me because I didn’t believe he was competent.

Fast forward to last month when I finally saw a headache specialist. When asked, I again, said yes.

This time there was no doubt in my mind. I watched my doctors face as we walked through the endless therapies and medications I’d tried. I could see him struggling to suggest anything else. He wouldn’t give me stronger medication because we aren’t trying to kill me. He won’t take me off all of medication, because again, we aren’t trying to kill me.

So we put through the request. It went through. It was denied.

They sited their reason as they won’t cover Botox injections for: episodic migraine, chronic daily headache, cluster headache, cervicogenic headache, and tension-type headache.

I have plain old chronic migraine. It isn’t a daily headache. I’ve thankfully never experienced a cluster headache. I don’t even know what cervicogenic means. We’ve come close to ruling out tension-type headache.

I have been diagnosed with this goddamn condition for a really long time.

What am I supposed to need in order for my insurance to approve Botox? 15 or more headache days in a month. I haven’t had a headache free day in almost a year. Hell make that since the day I graduated high school.

So, I’ll send in an appeal.

I’ll send in a request to get approved for the new migraine drug.

Not that it’ll do anything. No amount of pleading seems to get me anywhere with this condition.

So here I am. Facing my truth. I’m facing defeat head on, but then I realize I’m just looking in the mirror, and that defeat has become me.

I have to get up tomorrow and get ready for a job that will allow me to be successful with my life. Come August, classes will start back up. I’ll have to attend those to ensure that my success only grows.

But I’ll just be going to work and coming home and going to bed and going to school and alternating between ice packs and hot showers and mild medications that don’t do anything, knowing that this is it.

Knowing that this is my life. This is the hand I’ve been dealt, but the deck is stacked against me.


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