Elsie. Yes, Again.

I consider myself to be a patient person. When I am wronged, I try to view the offender with the benefit of doubt. I would like to believe that the perpetrator does not know of the damage being inflicted or the pain being caused. I have been a much happier person since I have begun to tolerate basic ignorance.

I have been able to work through many tense situations by remaining calm and professional. Typically I am able to maintain my composure. Unless, of course, the individual has consistently been detrimental towards myself or my family, or they have been untruthful. This has become the case with "Elsie."

Elsie, the pseudonym for my Workman's Compensation Insurance adjustor, has tried my patience. I have tried to remain calm and professional. I have tried every approach ranging from being courteous to curt. At this point, she has begun to jitterbug over my last nerve.

I realize that this is not my first blog concerning Elsie. She certainly does not deserve this much attention and thought, but unfortunately she continues to wield a considerable amount of power of my prosthetic care and is, therefore, still impacting my life.

Being an amputee herself, Elsie should realize basic prosthetic needs. I requested new liners in October. To date, they have yet to be authorized. My current liner is riddled with tears and holes. It is stretched out of shape and is no longer comfortable. According to my husband, it is becoming quite odoriferous.

After numerous phone calls, Elsie finally answered her phone. When I inquired about the status of my liner request, she retorted by questioning the need for a new liner. She justified her concerns for my liner request by explaining that she is also an amputee, and she requires a new liner only every six months.

I should have heeded my Mom's advice and just listened politely and proceeded with my request. This was not the case. Instinctively, I interrupted Elsie and posed my concern.

"I am sorry that you are settling for poor prosthetic care. I am opting for good prosthetic care, and liners are an integral part of that protocol." I went on to explain that Medicare permits a new liner every six weeks, and that six months is both unrealistic and unhealthy.

Elsie seemed shocked that I was able to maintain my composure while providing a thoughtful and accurate retort. She stated that her prosthetic care was none of my concern. I reminded her that she is the one who brought her care into the conversation, so it was fair game.

Immediately Elsie became automated and official. She stated flatly that the liners will be approved. I continued to press her for a time line, explaining that I have been waiting since October.

I can only assume that Elsie feeling defensive about her poor work habits. She proceeded to provide a lengthy explanation as to why the liner request has been delayed. Elsie lied. When backed in a corner, Elsie comes out with dishonest statements slandering my prosthetist.

Elsie apparently does not have a close working relationship with her prosthetist. If she did. she would know that my prosthetist Elliot and I remain in close contact when insurance requests are made. I am kept informed about the attempted contacts and the red tape and stonewalling that ensue by her ineffective actions. I knew instantly that she was lying when she stated that the submission for liners was only received two weeks ago.

This is not the first time Elsie has lied to me. She actually recycled this excuse because it was the same lie she told in July when I spoke with her concerning a new liner. I am becoming increasingly frustrated that this dishonest, ineffective, and downright lazy woman can exert such control over my prosthetic care. I am sure I am not the only individual on her caseload whose care is suffering from her actions or, in my case, her inaction.

I am pleased that my liner request has finally been approved. I am irritated and angry that I had to confront her in order to receive the necessary medical devices. For now, I will be happy that my liners will be ordered in the next few days.

I know that this will not be my last dealing with Elsie. I fear that my professional demeanor will continue to decay as my dealings with her increase. Maybe she will automatically authorize my devices in order to avoid talking to me! In the meantime, Robby and I need to go to the grocery store to get cookie ingredients. I think we owe Elliot and his staff a big batch of cookies to thank them for dealing with this despicable woman.