Spo-fans will be happy to know Someone found my List folder. He located an old copy in the office PC. He sent the contents (clever man!) via email this afternoon. The lists are only up to 2010, but this is better than trying to recreate them from scratch. I am quite relieved – and I’ve learned my lesson: back things up!

 

21 January is St. Agnes’ Day, traditionally the coldest day of the year. It is all ‘uphill’ now.  Every year I reread Keat’s poem “The Eve of St. Agnes”.  However it is hard to feel frozen, residing where I do. Today it was in the mid-70s; at 930PM it is 64 – hardly the ambience to freeze your wrists off.  Back East I hear it is rather snowy and inclement, which is much better for St. Agnes day. Lucky people!

 

I am thrilled to discover Renee Fleming will be singing a live concert aria on national TV, two Sundays hence. Apparently there is a football game afterwards or something.

 

This month I am inudated at work with prior authorization forms.  This happens every year; people change insurance and the new providers start faxing a fury of paperwork demanding to know why am I prescribing such and such to so and so. I have to be keep calm and politic and explain patiently “such and such” has kept so and so stable for years; if you f-ck around with their meds you are asking for trouble.  Most insurance companies seem satisfied with this, but a few are peristent in their demand I change my patient’s medications to something cheaper. The difference between me and Dr. Lector is I generally choose not to, but when it comes to prior authorization reviews I get in touch with my inner-Hannibal. This monstrous Muse allows me to write bone chilling letters saying in acrimonious and menacing prose if they dare deny this Rx it will lead to chaos and (if all goes well) to murders and suicide. If this doesn’t work, the ultimate trump card to use is to point out their proposal will cost them more money in the end than if they just left things alone. There is a certain delight in composing these letters, despite the tedium to do so.

It’s late. I need to knock off and start that Keat’s poem. I promise to get caught up with blog reads this weekend.