I had a brief conversation with my former boss’ widow today.
A few weeks before I was hired, he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. By the time I started, he was only working a few hours a week. In February I went on the road to work offsite for a week, and the week after I came back, he died.
Posted by Dave Farquhar on August 6, 2010
My dad was a doctor. Dad told me on several occasions that if I ever came home and said I wanted to follow in his footsteps and become a doctor too, he’d lock me in my room for seven years. One of the reasons for this was because he hated dealing with insurance companies. I vividly remember going out to the mailbox one day and finding a letter addressed to Dr. Farquhar, with a very angry note written on the front of the envelope: PLS LET THE DR READ THE LTR. I asked what this was about, and Dad said insurance was refusing to pay for a patient’s treatment. He said it happened a lot.
Now I’m 33, and my insurance was refusing to pay for treatment my wife needed. The best-case scenario without her medication would have involved numerous hospitalizations. The worst-case scenario? Coma or stroke if a lot of things went wrong. If everything went wrong, death wasn’t out of the question.
Here’s what I did about it.
Posted by Dave Farquhar on September 5, 2007
Brad called me late on Wednesday with an update. They’ve taken Katelyn off her pain medication, which included morphine, and she’s struggling with the pain and withdrawal. Brad said she cried for a 17-hour stretch. It’s good that she’s strong and healthy enough to be able to do that, but heartbreaking that she would hurt enough to do that.
Posted by Dave Farquhar on January 10, 2002