******************************************************************************************* When I went to court last month to settle the Workers Compensation case regarding the injury to my left shoulder, I knew something was fishy when things went so smoothly. Didn’t I tell you I’d be hearing from the Insurance Company again soon? You don’t deal with a company for seventeen years and not learn what their habits are. I have also learned what their work ethic and their little tricks are, and they are very underhanded, to say the least. It’s a shame that you can’t trust companies like that anyone; and they’re the ones getting bailed out!
Anyway…A few weeks back, I got a big, thick, legal-sized envelope in the mail from my lawyer, Peter N. Littman of Littman and Babiarz in Ithaca, New York. He has represented me in this case since 1995—so that’s a very long time on one case, I would think.
I remember the first time I went to his office. My twin sister, Sande, took me. I wasn’t driving, of course, because of the problem with my hands, and I also anticipated that I would need her to fill out any paperwork that they would give me on a “clipboard” when I entered their office. The last time I had any dealings with a lawyer before that had been when I had divorced my physically-abusive first husband, and I was suffering flash-backs while we were sitting there. It had to be because I was so nervous.
The time in the waiting room flew by and when we were called to enter Mr. Littman’s office, my knees buckled. I was so embarrassed; I hadn’t done anything wrong, so I had nothing to feel guilty for. Sande grabbed my arm and that bolstered my courage, so in the office we went, only to sit and wait—which only made me nervous, once again.
By the time Mr. Littman finally came to his office, Sande and I were laughing, and making jokes as to how he must have gotten lost on his way to the office. I’ll never share the actual jokes here, just in case I become a stand-up comic some day; I may need them and they were that good!
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Miss Bond,” he said, as he walked into the office, reading my folder with his head down. He hadn’t seen Sande or me yet. “How are you this morning?” (I was single at the time and hadn’t even started dating my current husband yet.)
“Fine, thank you for asking,” we said in exact unison. “How are you, Mr. Littman?”
“Twins!” he said, as he tossed my folder on the desk and gave us both a smile. “Which one of you is Cynde Bond?”
“I could be,” Sande said, smiling mischievously.
“So could I,” was what I said, as he turned to look at me.
He was a very stern, nice-looking man, and this could go either way, but I was guessing that he would take it well. “I have eight-year-old twin boys, so I have to put up with this kind of stuff all the time. Wait until I tell them about you two characters,” he said, and right then, we both knew that he liked us.
We decided to let him off the hook and we told him which “twin had the Tony,” as it were, and then we got down to business.
Getting back to the present, inside the envelope was a letter from my Workers Compensation Insurance provider, which at the time happened to be Great American Insurance Company, and is now Ohio Casualty Group. They made a list of all the medications that I was taking that they covered (inaccurate, of course) and then explained how I didn’t need them or should be taking something else instead. As usual, they didn’t bother to read my doctor’s records, which they had requested in order to formulate this report, but what does that matter? We all know the real bottom line is the bottom line or translated: the only thing these people care about is saving money.
So, back to court we go. It’s all just blackmail, you know. They had threatened that they wouldn’t pay for my medications when they switched to the new provider, and that didn’t work, so they tried to sue me under what they called a #25a provision, but found they couldn’t, because my case was an on-going case. They have been trying to force me to settle early for years, but I said, “No, thank you.” Why would I do that? Are they nuts?
The next best thing, they thought, was to harass her. So they keep scheduling Independent Medical Examinations (IME’s) in the hopes that they’ll finally find a doctor that will side with them some day…but in fifteen years, it hasn’t happened yet.
It is stressful to me, which only adds to my pain level, but I’m sure they don’t care at all. Thankfully I have this voice-recognition software on my computer, plus my husband helps me so I can post these reports. My husband is an angel! I plan on keeping a record of all the things these people do to me, so when I go to get some help, it will be clear that I have been harassed for years. I’m tired of sitting back and being victimized. This has got to stop!
Until next time…stay safe, stay well, and may God bless you all.
Cynde
Please visit my other blogs:
Cynde's Got The Write Stuff ~and~ Usurper Exposed. Thank you!
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