Twincidents

Friday, December 2, 2011

L.O.V.E.CDIB

I'm so thankful for my babies' Certified Degree of Indian Blood. The Chickasaw, Cherokee, and Creek Nations have together contributed to the entirety of Emma and Ethan's healthcare expenses. Not one single penny have we paid that involves the babies' healthcare from their conception and onward. I cannot express how thankful I am for that.

I do not have a certifiable degree of Indian blood, but my dad's side is Cherokee and Choctaw. None of our people signed the Dawes Rolls. I take a certain amount of pride in that. It must have been very scary to have such an aggressive presence demanding that you change everything about your life, give up everything you know and sign on a line that says you are "other" and that you surrender. Your signature affirmed that you were the targeted problem of the current dominant culture and a disease that must be stamped out. I think it takes courage to refuse to comply with a bully like that. My husband and my children are registered Chickasaws. I'm also proud that his ancestors had the courage to stand before the aggressors and say, "Here we are." I don't know if they knew that by their sacrifice and by signing on that line, they were essentially providing for millions of their people to come.

Even though we are very grateful, I do believe there is a sense of entitlement that comes with these benefits, and getting them is not always easy.

Normally, you go to an Indian clinic or hospital in your district and you never have to worry about the bill. Because we were transferred to St. Francis, a third party provider, there were very large bills being delivered to our mailbox and our responsibility was to send those bills to The Creek Nation Contract Health Department (Creek because of district policies). The nation would then pay...if the bills were sent in an acceptable format and were for services that were agreed upon in the transfer contract. The process was a very slow one. St. Francis likes to send very vague statements every month. We kept having to request itemized statements. I found myself getting very frustrated. St. Francis kept calling and asking why we hadn't made any payments toward our bill. Also, because we had twins, there was lots of confusion in the billing process. We'd get separate calls for each baby. At one point, there were 5 charts, two for the babies with the correct middle names, and two with apparent made-up middle names. I also had a chart even though I was never admitted. One time, a St. Francis collector called and asked to speak with Emma. I was getting angry. "What are you guys doing over there??"

I kept repeating with less and less patience that Creek Nation was paying. But they weren't. I started following each call with a call of my own to Creek Nation. I still feel like St. Francis should have taken up communications with Creek Nation themselves. Isn't this a familiar process...a matter between you two...in your contract? There's my sense of entitlement, and I am not even an official member of any tribe. I felt like I shouldn't have to do anything. They should just take care of it. I was taking care of twin newborns. Don't they understand that I am delirious? I am sleep-deprived, culture shocked, and constantly involved in the demanding routine of providing milk for my babies. It was a very life-consuming thing in those first 6 months. I understand that healthcare is a business. But I resented being hounded by the hospital. Part of me was laughing an evil laugh inside when they called and the babies were screaming in the background. Oh, you can't hear me? You can't concentrate? Do you feel a certain level of anxiety during this phone call? HA!




Finally, after over a year, and after being turned in to several different collection agencies and threatened with a law suit, our bill has been paid. Hallelujah! I really think that if we hadn't been such a persistent presence in the office of Contract Health, Creek Nation would have gladly moved our file to the bottom of the stack, and there it would still be, gathering dust, not being paid. I think they only pay if you saddle-up and refuse to be bucked off. They don't come to you with money; you have to chase it down hard and wrestle it into submission with every ounce of your being. When you have proven yourself worthy, shown your Indian warrior roots, only then will you be rewarded.  


And you know what? I do feel like a warrior for it. So, as I wipe the sweat from my brow, I thank you, Creek Nation.