Going in Circles

As I mentioned recently, I decided to go ahead and make an appointment with a counselor.  I felt ambivalent about the idea – at the moment I feel pretty good, emotionally (honestly it’s mostly out of my head), but I would still love to talk with someone about strategies for coping as time ticks by, especially if the next round is negative.  I’ve never been to a counselor before, so I’m a little nervous, but I’m also curious.  So I decided to make an appointment.

Let’s just say that it’s good that I don’t desperately need help.

I started off with the fertility center’s counselor about a week and a half ago.  I talked with her on the phone, and she seemed very nice.  She said to call her administrative offices (at a different number) and give them my insurance info to find out how much my insurance would cover before I made an appointment.  Seemed reasonable.  There was some implication that treatment costs would be on a sliding scale depending on my coverage, which was cool.

I called her secretary, spelled out all of my insurance coverage, and hung up with (at least I thought) the understanding that they would call me back once they had an answer for me.

So I waited, and waited, and waited.  Never having been to a counselor before, I wasn’t sure about the procedure, so I waited some more.  I felt ambivalent about the idea of going to a counselor anyway, so I waited some more.

Finally, today I decided to call back.  I have an appointment with my RE tomorrow, so it seemed like a good time – I’m about to get thrown back into infertility world after a couple weeks off.  They were, once again, very nice, and gave me some details about my insurance.  Just some though; not all.  To get the rest, I’d have to call my insurance company.

While momentum was on my side, I called the insurance company.  They were surprisingly helpful and gave me a few concrete answers.  Putting together what they told me and what the doctor told me, I did some math and realized that my visits to the out-of-network counselor would cost me about $100 each (assuming she didn’t adjust her fee for me, since I do have some coverage).  And this was AFTER I met the $250 deductible.  Ouch.

Out of curiosity, I logged onto the insurance website and checked the coverage for in-network doctors.  Much better: no deductible, and better coverage.  A quick search revealed that within six miles of my house, there were 13 doctors who listed infertility among their areas of expertise.  I looked over the list, did some Googling, and decided on my top few.

I called the number from the insurance company for my top one, a psychologist at the University of Maryland, and was told that there wasn’t a doctor by that name there.  Google had brought up a different number, so I tried that one.  No luck there either, or at the number they transferred me to, or at the number that THEY transferred me to.  Finally I tried a third number that Google gave me, but there was no answer, and the voice on the machine identified it as a university center that didn’t sound right.  I hung up.  If my insurance company’s website had out of date information about the phone number, she might not take my insurance anymore anyway.

So then I tried #2, another University of Maryland doctor.  No luck there, either – the office she is in only serves people who work on the campus.

I moved on to #3.  There was an answer, and it was the right office.  Progress!  I asked the secretary if the doctor took my insurance.  “I think so.”  I asked if I could make an appointment. “She makes her own appointments.”  I asked if she kept evening hours.  “That’s up to her.”  WHAT IS THE POINT OF THIS SECRETARY?!?!?!?!  I left a message, and the doctor is supposed to call me back if she has appointments available.  IF.  How long am I supposed to wait before moving on?

After all of that I was too exhausted to try anywhere else (and, you know, I have a job I was supposed to be doing).  I have to wonder, though, what if I were really depressed?  True depression often comes with the inability to motivate yourself, and it’s seeming like it’s going to take a lot of motivation to figure all of this out and actually get an appointment.  If I was too depressed to get out of bed, I doubt I’d ever find my way to someone who could help.  That seems like a problem.

Ugh!  I’m more stressed and discouraged now than I was before I tried to make a counseling appointment.