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Just how much is enough evidence?
A young boy was brought to my clinic the other day.
I had operated on him two years earlier, freeing and anchoring his hitherto undescended testicle to his right scrotum.
He later developed a reaction around the scrotal skin. A small lump developed at one edge of the surgical scar.
His mother happened to get my phone number and called me incessantly. When she finally got through, I agreed that she comes across to the other side of the mountain for review after I could not succeed in imploring her to visit other colleagues nearby.
She was punctual for the appointment. Very punctual!
I reviewed the boy and was impressed that the swelling was a form of complication we call suture granuloma. The flesh around was fighting the suture (thread used to stitch up tissues during surgery).
I would offer surgical exploration and excision.
It was time for the insurance paper work.
As colleagues have argued before, there is need for consistency among most of the Quaity Assurance officers sitting in our insurance offices.
A colleague recently wondered why a surgeon can prescribe "emergency abscess drainage" and still receive a 'please justify why this is an emergency' rebuttal from the insurance.
Some diseases dictate what needs to be done and how urgent it is just from their diagnosis. Assuming the people are actually well versed.
It is like calling the police and reporting an accident with mass casualties then they ask you to justify why an ambulance should be sent to the scene!
Any way, that is a story for another day.
I filled up the forms and left it that. We would be ready to proceed as soon as the procedure had been approved.
I got missed calls from the distraught mother on a Friday evening. I did not return the call.
Then the calls streamed in incessantly on a saturday morning as I zoomed past statehouse onto Ralph Bunche road. I could no longer finish the episode of audio book I was on. I rejected the call, then rejected, then muted the phone but in vain.
'Ala, kwani the testicle has burst open ama?' I thought to myself.
I hit the recieve button on the steering wheel as my right foot shifted from right to left, coming off the accelerator and resting on the brake pedal.
She asked whether I had seen her text. To which I replied yes I had, and had replied advising her to come to our customer care desk for further direction.
'Hata sijui mtu huko kwa insurance'!
"Daktari sasa imagine wamesema nipige picha," she was confused.
I said I could not commit on what she could or could not do as long as the insurance had not expressly asked something of the doctor.
"Daktari sasa unaonaje?"
I did not give an opinion.
I hang up after directing her to the nearest branch to have her case handled.
In less than a minute, she called again.
Well, maji ukiyavulia nguo sharti uyaoge', the swahili proverb says. I had received the phone call and there was no way around it. I answered.
"Naweza piga picha nikitumia simu?"
I wish I could continue the conversation with a tortuous juicy rattle of questions on the phone make, model, camera specifications and all.
"I guess," I hang up.
I was now on Milimani road approaching the Integrity centre to my right. I wondered about the integrity of a phone call while driving. Thank God for the Daimler Slay King's Bluetooth service. Oh and the Harmon Kardon speakers.
A few minutes later. I am taking the right turn to ascend along Valley road towards Hurlingham.
Yes you guessed right. The phone rang again. Aaargh!
"Naweza tuma ikiwa coloured ama black and white?"
Jesus! Ngai fa fa! Mwathani!
I swear the next question might be on whether the boy should pose at ease, attention or bent over. I made a silent prayer.
My wife burst out laughing when I told her what business I had been handling all those times while she repeatedly gave me a side glance.
"I swear I did not make that up," I pleaded.
She must have added to my prayers as the phone was finally silent.
I do not know the Mega Pixels and formatting of the photo that finally made the insurance cave in.
What is your Insurance story?
What lengths have you been pushed to?
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