Now, I have no gripes about Aetna and it's service. It's provided me with reliable, continuous health care management for years.
But what the hell is "behavioral health"?
I recently got on a new plan due to my newly discovered career as a starving artist. no, starving student. no, starving person... yes that's it..
Upon receipt of my starving person's health care card, I noticed the indication towards:
a) medical
b) pharmacy
c) behavioral health
Ok this just pissed me off. We've all had our struggles yes? Oh you know you have. And you too. And your mom. And her friend. Yes, your mom's friend. Word.
This pissed me off for many reasons. Behavioral Health. The word "Behavior", to me is quite loaded. When I think of behavior, I think of elementary school. I think of the principal's office. I think of being sent up to my room when I was bad. I think of being made to stand in a corner. Not with a dunce cap though. I do that on my on voluntarily now.. It's a hott look.
I think of behavior as a word rooted in childhood and such settings. So for Aetna to tell me that Behavioral Health is something different than regular medical problems leads me to believe that Aetna will cover me for the following:
a) throwing rocks at people
b) sticking my tongue out at strangers
c) acting up in a movie theatre
d) screaming in a restaurant
e) whining how I have to go to the bathroom even though we just left the house
f) complaining that I don't get what I want
g) repeatedly kicking someone's seat/knees/feet on the subway
h) threaten to hold my breath unless I get my way
i) act up because my chicken mcnugget meal came with a power ranger toy instead of a barbie
The fact that all of the above has happened to me within the last month is irrelevant. Let's stick to the topic here people.
But behavioral health.. Are they trying to talk about mental health? That to me is considerably different than one's behavior. Someone can be a brat/pain/idiot/a*hole and still be perfectly sane. Because those things are behavioral incidences. So Aetna will cover me for being a brat and a pain? I should be a goddamn millionaire then...
It's just that it disturbs me that "Behavior" is Aetna's word for mental health. Mental health is a serious issue. One that I've struggled with and either you have or you know someone who has. So it's weird that it's termed that way with a health insurance company.
So what are my recommendations for what they should call it? I dunno.... Kooky Brain? Psycho WalknTalk? GooglyGoog? FailBrain? I can has medicines now? Jebediah Springfield?
Ok I digress....
But it's just weird that it's put in its own little category separate from so-called regular medicine. Who determines what's regular? I certainly feel that mental health issues are far more common than diabetes, thyroid problems and knee pain. While they don't claim the same commercial ad-use as many prostate or cholesterol drugs, mental health drugs are popular and extensive.. quite. Is it that no one wants to address this problem? I would call it an epidemic, but that would be using bad statistics. Epidemics, other than the Black Plague, are a fallacy. Serious. In all terms, epidemics, be they health, social, financial or legal, are all a result of a combination of media, propaganda, hypochondria and just plain sadism in the fact that people like to have things be scary, in turmoil and on-the-brink.
And I digress again...
I just find it strange that what goes on in one's brain is not considered medical. It's a part of the body, yes? And I would consider it a quite important part of the body. So why are problems with it diagnosed as "behavioral". Unless, of course, they are "neurological". But I'd like to know the difference between an organ that can give you a tumor or an aneurism or have a seizure or lead one to hear voices and want to be Judy Garland. Please keep in mind that I have never experienced any of the that. I hate the Wizard of Oz. Those monkeys gave me nightmares for years...
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Thursday, September 11, 2008
The bell… It tolls for thee…
Higher education is a crock.. let me tell you. Not so much in the mission and the idealism of it all, but in the BS, red tape and extreme ridiculousness of everything that you have to endure to simply try to get an education.
Now, I’ve blogged before regarding my triumphs and desperations with the financial aid office (and believe me it’s more the latter than the former). Today marked a whole new era in stupidity, idiocy and incompetence that I have never experienced in my life before.
I’ve seen a lot in my time. Ok calm down, I know I’m only 26. But I’ve seen a lot. I’ve seen guys outside the White House screaming how Reagan and Wilson are the same because they both have 6 letters in their last names, saying how Cuba has some George Washington shrine that’s connected to the freemasons and also that aliens control the Senate. I’ve not disproved any of these by the way… I witnessed 9/11 in DC. Not nearly as bad as NYC, but I saw the Pentagon smoke and if the plane hadn’t crashed in Shanksville, PA, it might have made it to the area of DC that I lived in at the time. I’ve seen extreme poverty, homelessness, hunger, desperation, everything. I’ve seen a lot.
Ok I’m not here to say how I’ve gone through so much etc etc because I know so many people have experienced more trying, excruciating and terrifying times than I. And most likely, experiences that I will never have. And I am more than grateful over the fact that I have been protected from so many tribulations in life.
But today I sobbed. I sobbed like I haven’t in a long time. I didn’t sob out of sorrow, from loss, from disappointment or from ridicule. I sobbed out of anger, which is the worst kind. It’s a vulnerable, out-of-control, helplessness feeling that I absolutely can’t handle.
Ok it wasn’t over any crazy reasons, over any extreme test to my resolve or any threat to my or my family’s well-being. Fine.
I was arguing with the Financial Aid Office at lovely Rutgers University. And it made me cry. It made me regress into that 5 year old who wants her mommy. My mom didn’t answer the phone so I ended up calling my boyfriend, but whatever :)
I’ve written about this previously. I’m perhaps being melodramatic, sure. But as all of you probably know, that’s what makes me--me. I spent 3 hours in line today on the same floor, among 3 offices which were all within 20 feet of one another, yet none knew what the other was doing nor what the answer to my question was.
I’m not asking about tax credits in Euro terms with Vietnam Vet conditions and 3 kids with child support and health insurance matters. I’m simply asking about the fact that I have full tuition reimbursement from my school yet I am getting a Federal loan (because I live in expensive NYC). And since said loan has been literally applied to my account (in writing from both the Feds and the school), I should be issued a refund check (for the amount of the loan minus the remission of tuition). Right? Simple? Not so much.
I spoke to no less than 9 people today who each had a different answer. It absolutely astounds me. I’m really a simple case. Not an international student, no other aid, no nothing. This can’t be the first time this swine office has dealt with my type of situation. But they told me, in so many words today:
1) You cannot get a Federal loan if you have tuition remission
2) Your Federal loan has not come through yet
3) Your Federal loan has come through, but we don’t know why you haven’t been issued a refund check
4) Ok your loan came through but this is our “busy time”
5) Ok our system shows a different amount than the Financial Aid office (this is Student Accounting). I need my supervisor to look into this
6) You might need to get a private loan
7) What was your name? Are you the Greek fine arts major?
I was so tempted to cop to that last question, you have no idea.
This is the least of my problems. Or perhaps the most of my problems? I don’t know anymore. School is kicking my ass at this point. I love it, I absolutely do. But I hate the schizophrenia I experience from thinking that I am all-powerful and I can DO THIS SHIT to thinking “aww man maybe I can borrow money from my parents while I pursue some secondary interest in film production or art history or something because I dunno if I can do this”. And I experience these feelings at least once an hour, at a minimum. Yeah…
My professors are interesting, which is the best I can say about them at this point.
Research Design: Ms. Susie. I’m using funny terms because if my profs ever got wind of my disparaging blog I’m sure I’d be expelled. Or possibly promoted. Not sure yet so I’m playing it safe…
So RD. She’s new. She’s young. I think she’s hot for some of the chicks in my class. Whatever I don’t care. My problem with her is that this is the first time the class has been taught and it’s up to her and I think she thinks she has to prove something, yet at the same time she wants to be cool and hip. I’m sorry, but I’d rather a prof be cool and cool or strict and strict. Don’t act like you’re my BFF and then grade me like I’m doing a post-doc in physics. Geez… Calm down.
Governance and Politics: This prof is out of his mind. These are his words. He has stated how he is highly medicated and quite possibly overmedicated. Nice. He knows a previous instructor of mine from Uni of Bath, which is awesome and he’s offered to sponsor me in getting an MPH as well as concentrating in Urban Health as a concentration but I’m waiting for proof that this man can tie his own shoes as well as possibly complete a simple crossword puzzle before I take his word on anything.
Analytic Methods: I love this class. I’m such a dweeb. It’s introductory statistics, but I love it. The prof is awesome and it’s interesting and actually something I understand despite having elementary math skills, no common sense and limited perception of anything going on around me. Really. What time is it? Is it raining? Am I in Europe? Am I alive? halp…
Intellectual History: Even the prof doesn’t know what this is. He is so disorganized. He didn’t have the right syllabus, nothing was posted on Blackboard (an online teaching assistant database thing) and he didn’t even know his secretary’s email. Oh, the prof is the Dean. That’s some hot shit. Also the fact that he’s my boss and I’m supposed to attempt to get him published in all these journals because my resume clearly states my experience and background in being a literary agent…… yeah… We’ll see….
Within my own program though: upon beginning this whole shebang, I’ve been shocked and awed at the level of hypocrisy, bs-ing and kissing-up that takes place in the postgraduate world. Ok sure, it’s not surprising that there is some, and it’s not surprising that I’ve taken part in my fair share of it.
However my kissing-up is much more preventative rather than self-serving. For instance, I, in the past, have never been mean, rude or condescending to anyone in charge of the following things: my computer, my post office, my bank or plane tickets. Anyone with access to a “delete” button is not someone you want to mess with. Accordingly, having loans and school bills and registration accounts, my kissing-up has had to be divvied out even more. Sure when it comes to the dean there’s a certain amount of smiling and “oh that’s so interesting that you are building bunk beds for your grandkids” that you have to do. But I don’t take it to certain limits. I can’t. People will see right through it and even if I wanted to, I don’t like to lead people on that way.
Oh my but you can’t believe what some people will go through to get a dean, professor, etc on their side. They will offer to buy a $300 book as a favor just so the dean has access to one article; they say that they will stay until 3 a.m. to do editorial work, even if they have kids at home; they smile and flip their hair around and flirt, knowing that the professor who looks like some Tim Burton creature will be at their disposal. It makes me sick! Whatever happened to getting things and achieving things based on our own abilities and aptitudes? I would prefer to fail a test rather than pass because I winked and smiled. My mother would kick my butt if I did that.
The PhD world is a toxic environment, but hypocrisy exists everywhere. It’s like the person who is so sickeningly nice to wait staff, store clerks and goes completely out of his or her way to hold open doors and then act like he did the person a HUGE favor, but then is a complete jerk to his family, friends and/or significant other. It’s like the waitress who is so rude and dismissive but once you get the check she is really sweet and appreciative because she wants a tip.
Speaking of toxicity- more and more I’ve found that life is full of toxic things. Calm down, I’m not being a total pessimist who is going to start painting pictures of sad clowns. All my painted clowns are melancholy, irate or dismayed, but never sad. New York City, I think, kind of brings out the toxicity of situations. The city is so real, so in-your-face and so blunt, you can’t help but notice everything about life- both the good and the bad.
While living here I’ve noticed some very good things, sure. I’ve noticed that New Yorkers are some of the best people you’ll ever meet. Sure you’ll meet a lot of jerks, but it’s the law of averages. For every 10 bad New Yorkers, you’ll meet 5 good ones. However you just meet so many people that sometimes it feels like all you meet are jerks, losers and scam artists. It’s when someone you barely know offers to help you move, gives you a free cab ride or looks the other way when you’re a dollar short- that’s when you realize the good things. Native New Yorkers, possibly from 9/11, have a wonderful sense of brotherhood and helping each other out.
And in the spirit of things- today is 9/11. Tell someone that you love them. Every day.
Now, I’ve blogged before regarding my triumphs and desperations with the financial aid office (and believe me it’s more the latter than the former). Today marked a whole new era in stupidity, idiocy and incompetence that I have never experienced in my life before.
I’ve seen a lot in my time. Ok calm down, I know I’m only 26. But I’ve seen a lot. I’ve seen guys outside the White House screaming how Reagan and Wilson are the same because they both have 6 letters in their last names, saying how Cuba has some George Washington shrine that’s connected to the freemasons and also that aliens control the Senate. I’ve not disproved any of these by the way… I witnessed 9/11 in DC. Not nearly as bad as NYC, but I saw the Pentagon smoke and if the plane hadn’t crashed in Shanksville, PA, it might have made it to the area of DC that I lived in at the time. I’ve seen extreme poverty, homelessness, hunger, desperation, everything. I’ve seen a lot.
Ok I’m not here to say how I’ve gone through so much etc etc because I know so many people have experienced more trying, excruciating and terrifying times than I. And most likely, experiences that I will never have. And I am more than grateful over the fact that I have been protected from so many tribulations in life.
But today I sobbed. I sobbed like I haven’t in a long time. I didn’t sob out of sorrow, from loss, from disappointment or from ridicule. I sobbed out of anger, which is the worst kind. It’s a vulnerable, out-of-control, helplessness feeling that I absolutely can’t handle.
Ok it wasn’t over any crazy reasons, over any extreme test to my resolve or any threat to my or my family’s well-being. Fine.
I was arguing with the Financial Aid Office at lovely Rutgers University. And it made me cry. It made me regress into that 5 year old who wants her mommy. My mom didn’t answer the phone so I ended up calling my boyfriend, but whatever :)
I’ve written about this previously. I’m perhaps being melodramatic, sure. But as all of you probably know, that’s what makes me--me. I spent 3 hours in line today on the same floor, among 3 offices which were all within 20 feet of one another, yet none knew what the other was doing nor what the answer to my question was.
I’m not asking about tax credits in Euro terms with Vietnam Vet conditions and 3 kids with child support and health insurance matters. I’m simply asking about the fact that I have full tuition reimbursement from my school yet I am getting a Federal loan (because I live in expensive NYC). And since said loan has been literally applied to my account (in writing from both the Feds and the school), I should be issued a refund check (for the amount of the loan minus the remission of tuition). Right? Simple? Not so much.
I spoke to no less than 9 people today who each had a different answer. It absolutely astounds me. I’m really a simple case. Not an international student, no other aid, no nothing. This can’t be the first time this swine office has dealt with my type of situation. But they told me, in so many words today:
1) You cannot get a Federal loan if you have tuition remission
2) Your Federal loan has not come through yet
3) Your Federal loan has come through, but we don’t know why you haven’t been issued a refund check
4) Ok your loan came through but this is our “busy time”
5) Ok our system shows a different amount than the Financial Aid office (this is Student Accounting). I need my supervisor to look into this
6) You might need to get a private loan
7) What was your name? Are you the Greek fine arts major?
I was so tempted to cop to that last question, you have no idea.
This is the least of my problems. Or perhaps the most of my problems? I don’t know anymore. School is kicking my ass at this point. I love it, I absolutely do. But I hate the schizophrenia I experience from thinking that I am all-powerful and I can DO THIS SHIT to thinking “aww man maybe I can borrow money from my parents while I pursue some secondary interest in film production or art history or something because I dunno if I can do this”. And I experience these feelings at least once an hour, at a minimum. Yeah…
My professors are interesting, which is the best I can say about them at this point.
Research Design: Ms. Susie. I’m using funny terms because if my profs ever got wind of my disparaging blog I’m sure I’d be expelled. Or possibly promoted. Not sure yet so I’m playing it safe…
So RD. She’s new. She’s young. I think she’s hot for some of the chicks in my class. Whatever I don’t care. My problem with her is that this is the first time the class has been taught and it’s up to her and I think she thinks she has to prove something, yet at the same time she wants to be cool and hip. I’m sorry, but I’d rather a prof be cool and cool or strict and strict. Don’t act like you’re my BFF and then grade me like I’m doing a post-doc in physics. Geez… Calm down.
Governance and Politics: This prof is out of his mind. These are his words. He has stated how he is highly medicated and quite possibly overmedicated. Nice. He knows a previous instructor of mine from Uni of Bath, which is awesome and he’s offered to sponsor me in getting an MPH as well as concentrating in Urban Health as a concentration but I’m waiting for proof that this man can tie his own shoes as well as possibly complete a simple crossword puzzle before I take his word on anything.
Analytic Methods: I love this class. I’m such a dweeb. It’s introductory statistics, but I love it. The prof is awesome and it’s interesting and actually something I understand despite having elementary math skills, no common sense and limited perception of anything going on around me. Really. What time is it? Is it raining? Am I in Europe? Am I alive? halp…
Intellectual History: Even the prof doesn’t know what this is. He is so disorganized. He didn’t have the right syllabus, nothing was posted on Blackboard (an online teaching assistant database thing) and he didn’t even know his secretary’s email. Oh, the prof is the Dean. That’s some hot shit. Also the fact that he’s my boss and I’m supposed to attempt to get him published in all these journals because my resume clearly states my experience and background in being a literary agent…… yeah… We’ll see….
Within my own program though: upon beginning this whole shebang, I’ve been shocked and awed at the level of hypocrisy, bs-ing and kissing-up that takes place in the postgraduate world. Ok sure, it’s not surprising that there is some, and it’s not surprising that I’ve taken part in my fair share of it.
However my kissing-up is much more preventative rather than self-serving. For instance, I, in the past, have never been mean, rude or condescending to anyone in charge of the following things: my computer, my post office, my bank or plane tickets. Anyone with access to a “delete” button is not someone you want to mess with. Accordingly, having loans and school bills and registration accounts, my kissing-up has had to be divvied out even more. Sure when it comes to the dean there’s a certain amount of smiling and “oh that’s so interesting that you are building bunk beds for your grandkids” that you have to do. But I don’t take it to certain limits. I can’t. People will see right through it and even if I wanted to, I don’t like to lead people on that way.
Oh my but you can’t believe what some people will go through to get a dean, professor, etc on their side. They will offer to buy a $300 book as a favor just so the dean has access to one article; they say that they will stay until 3 a.m. to do editorial work, even if they have kids at home; they smile and flip their hair around and flirt, knowing that the professor who looks like some Tim Burton creature will be at their disposal. It makes me sick! Whatever happened to getting things and achieving things based on our own abilities and aptitudes? I would prefer to fail a test rather than pass because I winked and smiled. My mother would kick my butt if I did that.
The PhD world is a toxic environment, but hypocrisy exists everywhere. It’s like the person who is so sickeningly nice to wait staff, store clerks and goes completely out of his or her way to hold open doors and then act like he did the person a HUGE favor, but then is a complete jerk to his family, friends and/or significant other. It’s like the waitress who is so rude and dismissive but once you get the check she is really sweet and appreciative because she wants a tip.
Speaking of toxicity- more and more I’ve found that life is full of toxic things. Calm down, I’m not being a total pessimist who is going to start painting pictures of sad clowns. All my painted clowns are melancholy, irate or dismayed, but never sad. New York City, I think, kind of brings out the toxicity of situations. The city is so real, so in-your-face and so blunt, you can’t help but notice everything about life- both the good and the bad.
While living here I’ve noticed some very good things, sure. I’ve noticed that New Yorkers are some of the best people you’ll ever meet. Sure you’ll meet a lot of jerks, but it’s the law of averages. For every 10 bad New Yorkers, you’ll meet 5 good ones. However you just meet so many people that sometimes it feels like all you meet are jerks, losers and scam artists. It’s when someone you barely know offers to help you move, gives you a free cab ride or looks the other way when you’re a dollar short- that’s when you realize the good things. Native New Yorkers, possibly from 9/11, have a wonderful sense of brotherhood and helping each other out.
And in the spirit of things- today is 9/11. Tell someone that you love them. Every day.
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