Chapter 1: A Distressing Reality

The feeling of being abandoned in a chaotic healthcare system is all too familiar. My experience is reminiscent of Alice's bewildering journey in Wonderland—except that this is no whimsical adventure; it's a stark reality.

Photo by National Cancer Institute on Unsplash. MyChart has become the final straw, bringing me to my knees in despair. My healthcare provider, like countless others, has adopted the maddening trend of being completely unreachable to their clients.

In a landscape dominated by enormous corporations, the number of small businesses has dwindled significantly. Out of the more than twenty vast, impersonal companies I must interact with to maintain my societal existence, my health insurance provider is the only one that seems eager to engage. However, they only reach out to make excuses for their lack of service.

Since merging with another massive entity, they have ceased all operations except for fielding phone calls to justify their abandonment of the health insurance sector. They have shifted the burden onto the customers, altering prescriptions and then demanding that I complete the necessary steps for those changes, regardless of my consent. Their message is clear: adhere to their demands without question. I find myself unwittingly working part-time for them.

They have embraced a strategy of denial, leaving clients to grapple with the aftermath. Need basic medication while hospitalized? Denied! Want a cancer screening recommended by your doctor? Absolutely not! Anesthesia for critical surgery? Not medically essential, they claim.

Disputing their decisions is a Herculean task, requiring a scavenger hunt through their labyrinthine website—an astonishing feat of digital ineptitude with zero useful information despite its vastness. If you manage to find the right button to file a complaint, prepare for the site to crash, thwarting your efforts at the last moment.

They'll insist you're imagining things, all while maintaining a chillingly scripted demeanor, as if their primary role is to gaslight customers and conceal any potentially incriminating information. Their approach is to treat clients as potential litigants rather than provide genuine healthcare solutions.

Having endured my share of neglect and abuse throughout life, I certainly don't need this treatment now. Yet, anesthesia is non-negotiable for serious surgeries. It's laughable to think that both sides—the lawyers and the insurance company—can debate such critical issues without breaking into laughter. We have reached a point of absurdity that simply cannot be ignored.

The origins of this failed healthcare model should serve as a cautionary tale. Those responsible for this system should face consequences for their betrayal of public trust.

The technology at my so-called "health insurance provider" seems to malfunction more often than not, whether online or while speaking to their representatives. I can envision a future where they deny you anesthesia just as you are being prepped for surgery, yet still demand payment afterward.

Have you heard of MyChart? It should be a helpful tool, but my health insurance provider seems to have no use for it. Reconnecting with that platform feels like navigating through a fog of repressed memories.

I need to inform my doctor—who actually utilizes MyChart—about yet another mix-up with my medications, which could jeopardize not only my well-being but potentially yours too. MyChart has become my personal version of a Dr. Seuss tale gone wrong.

MyChart refuses to work on Google Chrome, Microsoft Edge, Safari, and Firefox, snubbing me on multiple devices. They claim email isn't secure, yet I'm left stranded without my medications—doesn't that sound "safe"? These are entirely new withdrawal symptoms to contend with.

The convoluted communication paths set up by this insurance conglomerate lead nowhere but into deeper darkness. I just want to live and for those around me to thrive as well—so why is this so hard?

Can anyone provide a solution to this tangled mess? Being ignored and silenced feels like a dire situation, reminiscent of the tension faced by "real men" of the 19th century. Where is the opportunity for civil discourse before we reach a point of desperation?

What should one do when you call 911 from the hospital, and they hang up on you?

Chapter 2: The Music of My Frustrations

To express the emotional weight of these experiences, music often serves as an outlet.

The first video captures the essence of navigating through pain and confusion in relationships and life, much like my experience with healthcare.

The second video highlights resilience, echoing the need for hope amid the struggles faced in the healthcare system.