Long story short ..... (you know better than that with ME, don't you?) We are getting a new life insurance policy issued on me. Because we all know my vast net worth exceeds $13 and some change down in the sofa cushions.
The home office called me today to conduct a telephone interview with regard to this pending policy. I spent 19 minutes (yes, I kept track) saying "No" repeatedly to approximately 237 questions, that went something like this:
"No, I don't have a pre-existing history of Crohn's Disease."
"No, I haven't been referred to a rehab facility within the past five years."
"NO, I have never used a soiled hypodermic needle in New Guinea, at least not in the past five years...."
I had NO idea I was such an absolute stellar picture of health.
All was going swimmingly until ...... UNTIL ..... she asked if I was taking any prescription medications. Well, I've always been open about the fact that I'm practically the poster child for Zoloft, and was frankly stunned that she didn't recognize me as such.
All that aside, she proceeded to ask WHY the doctor prescribed it. Now I'm sure she was staring at her paperwork full of little boxes, one of which needed checked for "cause" or "diagnosis".
My reply was this: "I birthed four babies in less than six years, isn't that sufficient reason?"
Apparently that wasn't one of the "diagnosis" choices.
And then I offered this explanation, realizing that she must NOT have small children: "Zoloft helps hide my last nerve so it takes my kids just a little longer to find it".
And then ..... and THEN .... she suggested that the prescription was related to (and I quote) a mental health issue! I did NOT want her checking THAT box, friends!!! Although a quiet, padded room sounds appealing at times.
So we proceeded to debate over a proper diagnosis, such as post-partum depression, swimmer's ear and/or chronic yeast infection, and ultimately settled on plain old, generic STRESS.
Other than that, STELLAR. Such a specimen I am.
Now pass the Zoloft.