I won't be going to Renfrew after all. The insurance denied the pre-authorization today. I was supposed to leave tomorrow for the three-day trip to Florida. I was all ready; I just had to pack. We even got new tires for the car and cleaned it out.
I have no hope this will work out, although the insurance company said they would review it and call me Monday. It's just their way of appeasing my tearful pleas that this was my last chance for recovery. I just don't understand what else they need - my doctor told them on the phone today that this was "essential" for my recovery.
I doubt that I will be blogging for a while, as I am devastated by this and can't think of anything else to write or say. There is nothing else to write or say, except treatment is only for the rich, I guess.
The worst part was that I was ready mentally. It took so much to prepare myself to go, to leave my home and my husband for 30 days. It took so much to admit I needed more help than I was getting here. It took so much to accept the idea of giving up control to get better, but I worked through it and was ready.
I was ready.
Now there is no hope. And I don't want to turn this blog into a hopeless, depressing mess. Because that's what I am right now - a hopeless, depressing mess.