The war. I won the war. The call came yesterday afternoon; Amos has been awarded his augmentative communication device and so, for those struggling with their insurance company, I say, keep fighting. Take courage, it is possible after all for a mother to be heard, through tears, cursing, letters, emails, a social media blitz, multiple blog posts, peer reviews, home phone calls to board members, texts, complaints to the escalation department and finally, a phone call to Wayne Goodwin, a complaint filed by the Department of Insurance. Lo and behold, BCBS has reconsidered the twelve reasons for the first three denials and decided Amos should be given a voice, not the voice we really long to hear, but beggars can't be choosers.
Beggars. My relief is overshadowed by the ranking of beggar, the position that was forced upon me. Should I shout my gratitude to the people that overtly tried to deny my son what they knew he was allowed according to policy guidelines? Should I walk away whistling a tune of "all's well that end's well," and forgive and forget? I can forgive. I haven't yet, but I can and forgiveness takes time but it will come.
I shan't forget though. This is not just about my son. Yes, my Amos shall have his "talker" and we will work to use it so that he can function in the great big world. I will not bitterly remind BCBS that a week ago they told me he should just use sign language or that he didn't really need it; after all, he could say "Mama," I was told. I can let those blatant untruths go but I will not forget. I stand on terra firma for the many other families that struggle like mine, but have not the time, the support, the education, the knowledge, the ability to fight hard and long.
I am so thankful in this moment for Amos and for the concession of BCBS. Mothers of special needs children walk away empty handed so very often that any success is a relief. It means change can happen. Perhaps some day a family of a speechless child will ask for a device that is covered under their policy and they will receive an affirmative yes, a far cry from the one begrudgingly uttered after seven months of battle. I will smile then.