Rival Gates's Blog, page 40

Evil Medical Bills

Sometimes you can take two things and put them together to create something wonderful. Take for instance peanut butter and jelly, bagels and cream cheese, Ben and Jerry, the dvr and television and of course the home computer and writers. As we all know, however, if there is an upside to a coin, there must be a downside. Yesterday I had one of those downsides where medical billing paired with my insurance company to make a royal mess. I was sent a hospital bill yesterday from 2013! My daughter had a procedure done of an exploratory nature in the hospital that year. We received a huge bill. It took until this last January for me to pay off. I asked if I was done and the billing specialist said my bill was all paid off. Well, apparently that was just the bill for the doctor. The hospital had another enormous bill just sort of floating around that they had not submitted to my insurance. It seems the hospital has one year from the date of service to submit the bill and they waited until the very last minute. Why they did this, I don’t know. Then my health insurance company tells me that even though I paid more than my out of pocket maximum for that year, it wasn’t sufficiently on my daughter so they aren’t paying the bill. The good news they told me was that this bill put my family up to the out of pocket maximum for that year. So if any other bills from 2013 are floating around, they will be paid 100%. As I listened on the phone, it made me want to reach out and touch someone if you know what I mean. I explained that I had been told back in 2013 that the family had reached the maximum already but the person on the other line said that was not true until this bill came in. We discussed the matter at length but I had no leverage. In the end I had to call back the hospital. I asked if they could write off part of the bill because of how much I had paid and the amount of time that went by. They knew they had me and were unwilling to budge. In the end, the best I could do was set up 2 years of payments at a staggering clip. Their only advice was, “If you were a little poorer we could help you out but you’re not so you have to pay in full.” According to them, I’m rich. It seems you have to be really rich or really poor in order to be sick in this country. If you are in the middle, you get the shaft. Let me be clear, I’m not arguing for socialized medicine. I experienced that in Canada and it nearly killed my father 25 years ago while waiting months in intensive care for a bypass surgery. I’m just saying that when you take the insurance company on one hand and the hospital on the other and put them together, the middle gets crushed. Oh, and here’s an amusing anecdote. Remember all that exploratory stuff the specialists recommended and I’m paying for? Well they found nothing and our family doctor did a simple allergy test and figured it out for a $30 copay. I think about that every time I make a payment.

Sunday Excerpt, "Crucible"

With great anguish he dragged his leg forward and prepared to bow. Mandrean rushed forward and physically stopped the general. “That is not necessary, Old Friend,” Mandrean assured.
Gramlick displayed irritation at the comment. “I need not be patronized, My Lord. If the others must greet you then I must do so as well. Do you not remember anything I taught you about the value of maintaining discipline?” The general did not wait for a response. He bent his head as low as he could without losing his balance. Upon rising he firmly called “Pawns.”
Eight pawns numbering eleven through eighteen clustered nearly on top of one another at the eastern edge of the Silver River. They huddled at the very frontier of the Empire.
Mandrean showed intense concern for the health of Gramlick and discreetly allowed the general to lean against him for support. “The leg seems to be much worse since our last meeting. You should let my physicians tend to you.”
“Your offer is most kind My Lord. I took the liberty of consulting them earlier in the day on the matter of my leg. They were of one opinion about its condition and I was of another. At this point opinions will not change facts. My time is short. What I still have, as always, belongs to you my Pupil and Master.”
Mandrean appeared heartbroken by the revelation. “Perhaps if they were to remove the leg it would give you time?”
“Regardless of the measures taken,” Gramlick explained, “The result will be the same. What time I have left will be lived with the dignity I have strived to display my entire life. I shall leave on my own terms. Before I do, we have the matter of this latest invasion you have planned for Romadon.”
“Are the preparations complete?” Mandrean asked with excitement.
“In my mind,” Gramlick retorted, “They will never be complete. This plan is a logistical nightmare. It will not work.”
Mandrean’s temper began to rise but he restrained its wrath out of respect for his mentor. “Were you not the one who told me our previous invasions through the Romadon Gap were likely annihilated after being encircled and cut off from supplies? This is the only way to prevent that from happening again.”
“My Lord,” Gramlick argued as he pointed at the map. “Even with eight full divisions you are talking about a very thin front stretching from the Endless Mountains to the Great Western Forest. If I were defending against such an assault I would cluster my forces in areas where I could bring all my men to bear against weak links in the front. Then I would penetrate your lines and sweep around from behind. End game.”
“This time,” Mandrean corrected with excitement. “We have been storing provisions for this attack for over a year. Previously we had to stop our advance because the Gap was so vast supplies could not keep pace. This time the supplies will flow from the depots right behind the army. Those fools in Romadon will not have a chance to regroup. We will drive them before us straight through the Gap and into their heartland.”
“They are expecting an attack,” Gramlick noted. “It’s not like we could hide the buildup. Come spring they will be lying in wait for us.”
“All the more reason I have decided not to wait for spring,” said Mandrean. “I want the assault launched within a fortnight.”

Saturday Excerpt, "Quest"

Anvar stirred the fire and sipped his drink. “The peculiar thing about destiny, Mr. Newminor, is that it has a will of its own. We may be able to chart our own course, but the destination does not change.”
“I could not disagree more fervently,” Newminor retorted. “I control my own future. All I achieve must be on my own. I make my own luck, my own destiny.”
“And our arrival at just the right time to save you,” Anvar commented. “That was of your making as well, I suppose?”
“I did not need your help!” insisted Newminor. “Your arrival only hastened their departure. I would have found my own way out of the situation.” Anvar nodded without looking at his guest. It was clear that neither would sway the other’s point of view. Anvar was content to let the matter rest. Newminor, however, decided to go on the offensive.
“If you believe so strongly in fate and destiny, then do tell what brings three and a half elves into the middle of the Territory?” The party was silent for a moment. Then Newminor continued, “Well, tell me how close I am. You’re a bunch of rich types from Sartan, who think roughing it means sleeping with only two blankets. You are out, in one of the most dangerous areas in the world, seemingly without a clue, trying to fulfill some destiny. You didn’t know what you were getting yourselves in for or else you wouldn’t all be bandaged like you were in a war. Yet somehow, you carry Mandrean weapons and goblin water skins. Who would like to clear this up for me?”
The elves were stunned at how accurate Newminor had been. Until that moment, they hadn’t realized how lucky they were to make it so far.
“What was that last part?” Linvin asked.
“Look at the swords you carry,” Newminor remarked as he pointed. “No elf would craft such a thick blade. No dwarf would make one so long. All the weapons are exactly the same, so they were not compiled from bandits. Then consider the quality of the ore used and the alloy created. Humans forged those blades for soldiers. They are standard issue side arms in the Legions of the Mandrean Empire.
Newminor sighed and walked over to the party’s mules. “These skins you have are used almost exclusively by goblins. Notice the wide opening for the mouth. When you try to drink from them, the water likely runs down your face because the opening is too large. They were designed to cater to the larger mouths of goblins. So tell me, oh children of destiny, how you came to possess these items?”

The Junk File

Email is an essential part of my daily life. One of the first things I do in the morning is check my email. That used to take about five minutes. Now it takes at least a half an hour. First we have important emails. These are ones you want to get and are in fact looking for. In my case they include messages from relatives, bills, receipts for bills paid, notes from my children’s teachers, the status of something I’ve ordered online or appointment reminders for things like the dentist or doctor. These are welcome messages. Then we have a huge gray area of messages you don’t necessarily want but they don’t bother you particularly either. These include emails from web sites you frequent like Amazon, Facebook, and about 15 stores my wife is on the mailing list for. These messages only bother me when I receive clusters of them and have to sort through them (See Cyber Monday). The rest of the time I can look and delete pretty quickly. Then there is simply what I define as junk. To be fair, my wife may have signed up for some of this junk but it just seems to clog my inbox. We get allergy alerts, breaking local news (which happened the day before), about a million Victoria’s Secret ads (they’re always giving away free stuff. I can’t use anything from that store but man, are the free gifts cool. Their marketing department is full of evil geniuses. The sheer volume of ads is just too much, though.) I get emails about student loan reform, local colleges, coupons for everything from restaurants to nail salons, department stores we go to once a year and ones we never go to, children’s play lands, tourism and realtors trying to convince me to sell my house. This all gets pretty annoying. The messages come all day long and no matter how many I block, more pop up in their place. I think it’s because I’ve had the same email for a long time. The problem with changing it is it’s the one all my relatives know me under. To try to tell everyone a new one would be difficult. It’s part of the reason we still have our home phone line. Everyone knows that number. If we went to our cell phones, a lot of friends and relatives we rarely talk to would be left out. When I want more peace and sanity I go over to my Rival Gates email where the spam is considerably less. Even there I still get a few odds emails and in particular my Junk file always seems to have a letter from someone writing in broken English about how they want to become intimate and exchange pictures with me. If that wasn’t strange enough I get the old, “You’re Paypal account is incomplete and we need some information to update it.” Do people still fall for that scam? I see one trick after another in that junk file. It’s enough to not make you want to check your email.

Author of the Week

My friend and fellow author, D. M. Sears was kind enough to feature me on her web site. I am Author of the week http://myrissaeden1.wix.com/ellethnys... and Book of the Week http://myrissaeden1.wix.com/ellethnys... . It is quite an honor. She runs a first class web site. Stop by and check them out when you have the chance.

Sunday Excerpt, "Crucible"

Mandrean stomped down the stairs of the tower with soldiers rapidly moving out of his way in order to avoid his wrath. In spite of their efforts, several were violently cast aside as his anger swelled. When he reached the ground floor he saw Acreas leaning on a staff and speaking with the Commander of the Imperial Guard.
Mandrean addressed Acreas in a firm tone. “You called out where Grithinshield was heading.”
“Yes, My Lord,” Acreas responded in hopes of praise.
“So you saw him?” asked Mandrean.
“I did indeed My Lord. He was carrying Princess Mirianna over his shoulder and climbing the stairs.”
“Were you armed?” Mandrean asked harshly.
Acreas began to realize the direction the conversation was heading. He chose his words carefully. “I was armed, and we clashed. Amidst the fighting, I fell and he escaped.”
“Everyone else around here is incompetent,” Mandrean barked. “I should not be surprised you have joined their ranks. Did you at least put up a good fight?”
“While my effort was there, my execution was lacking,” Acreas answered in a humble voice.
“In other words he beat you with ease,” Mandrean scoffed.
“No more ease than he dispatched anyone else in this palace, My Lord. Next time will be different.”
“How so?” demanded Mandrean. “Do you intend to let him kill you next time? He was clearly in too much of a rush to finish you today.”
“I underestimated him,” Acreas answered in an ever-firming voice. “That will not happen again.”
Mandrean was angry with the boy he knew to be his son. Even so, he could not bring himself to be overly critical of Acreas when he, himself, was nearly killed by Linvin. “You tried, Boy. Have my physician tend to your wounds.” Mandrean then turned and left the tower.
Acreas slumped against a wall to relieve pressure on his injury. He hung his head in shame as he reflected on Linvin’s effortless victory. One of Lord Mandrean’s physicians came over and addressed the brooding young man. “Master Acreas, your ankle is swelling. I must examine you at once.” Then he called to another in the room. “Attendant. Master Acreas has a large cut above the eye. Come stitch him closed while I look at his ankle.”
As the attendant came near, Acreas shoved him aside. “No stitches,” he commanded. “Just bandage the wound.”
The physician was shocked. “Young Master Acreas, if the wound is not sewn there will be a large scar when it heals.”
“I am aware of the repercussions, Doctor. This was a day I was humiliated. Every day I look in the mirror I want to remember this feeling and the one I must repay in kind. In the future, you will call me Acreas only. No longer will ‘Master’ or ‘Young’ be used before my name. I will be addressed as an equal or not at all. Do you understand, Doctor?”
“You can call yourself Lord Mandrean for all I care,” the doctor flippantly replied. “I am just here to see to your ankle. It looks severe. This injury will heal but it will take time.”
Acreas slid to the floor in order to allow the doctor better access to his injury. He looked at the ceiling in wonder and said. “I understand. If I must wait for your prediction to come to fruition, then that is what I shall do.”

Saturday Excerpt "Quest"

“Are you referring to the Land of the Gnomes?” Anvar inquired.
Newminor showed great offence. “Just because it is not a sovereign nation, does not mean it is without a name,” he scolded. “My homeland is called Letheria. It lies deep in the heart of the Endless Mountain Range. Hidden behind all the rock and snow is a magnificent high alpine meadow. In its center lies Leaking Lake; a shallow pond which is free of ice only a few months of the year. There my people have lived a hard life inthe intemperate climate. The summer is too short and the soil too poor to grow crops. Every spring, wild herds of all types gather to graze and mate while the water is unfrozen. My people would have a great annual hunt for bucks. Their meat would sustain us through the long winter. The short-lived season would end with a great festival to celebrate the success of the hunt. Great barrels of Racik would be aged from the previous year and brought to the festival. When the barrels were dry, the grasses and roots from the meadow would be gathered to brew the spirits for the next year’s festivities.”
“Being so exposed to the elements, how do your people manage to survive the winter?” Linvin asked.
“The problem with a place like Letheria,” Newminor noted, “is that no amount of seclusion can keep you hidden from your neighbors forever. With the Goblin Nations on one side of the mountains and the Mandrean Empire on the other, it was not uncommon for raiding parties from either side to descend upon the meadow. Though we are a proud people, our numbers and resources have never been great. Combine with that the fact that there was little wood to be found, and we chose to build our society completely underground. Goblins and men would stumble across the land, never knowing that beneath their feet lay our city. There, the bite of winter’s chill had no teeth. My people were safe and could surface when the invaders had left.”
“How is it that no one ever found the entrances to the city?” Rander asked.
“Only a gnome can see the doorways,” Newminor explained. “Living underground for so many generations, we developed much more refined sight than surface-dwellers. We can see what you cannot. We even see in total darkness. Since the first tunnel was dug, only gnomes have entered Letheria.
“Yet you have left Letheria, come through the Mandrean Empire and into the Unclaimed Territory,” Linvin commented. “What drove you to do so?”
Newminor finished his drink and poured another. “When you grow from a child in total darkness, save for a few months here and there, it becomes a strain. I want more from life than living in a hole and hiding like a rabbit. There is a whole world of opportunities and I want my share. In fact, I want many people’s share. When old age has robbed me of my strength, I want to remember that I lived my life on my terms. No person will tell me what to do or where to go. My destiny is in my own two hands,and I would rather die than relinquish that truth.”

Hard Drive Gives Hard Time

I am almost done with the first set of edits for Book 3, “Mandrean Revenge” and have just been sent the final edit of “The Sapphire Crucible” to go over one more time before it is released in its second edition. So I have a lot of work ahead of me. But what do I find myself working on for the last 3 hours? The computer! Specifically I was working on my external hard drive I use to back up my data in case of the unthinkable. It backs up the data again and again but doesn’t write over the old data. Instead it writes on the disk again and again until it is full. Now I have a full external hard drive. If I had to restore my computer, it would totally fill the memory. So I read the manual. All it said was how to hook it up. Then I went on line and found their help page. It gave me some numbers to call so I called. After being transferred around because they only seem interested in computer problems, I finally reached a tech who told me the unit was working fine and the problem was in the settings on my computer. He gave me a number for the computer manufacturer and I called them. After being transferred around again the representative for the computer company told me the computer had nothing to do with it and that I should format the hard drive and then just save items manually to it. That sounded pretty radical so I called back the hard drive manufacturer and told them there was no problem with the computer. The best they could suggest was to format the drive and reload the software. Being the sceptic that I am, I checked out the site before doing anything and found all it showed was the same user’s manual I already have and there was no software to download. So I am here after hours and hours with the same problem I had before. My only consolation is that I didn’t make the problem worse by erasing everything first. I’ve thought about diving back in but I’ve had enough for today and I have too much work to do. On the other hand, I’ve wasted a good part of my day on this and have nothing to show for it. I have a hard time just walking away from such an epic failure. These help desks sure don’t help very much.

Graduation Day

Well my daughter’s graduation has come and gone and here is the story. We were nearly late but managed to get her to the arena (nearly 600 graduated in her class alone and 2 more local schools had their ceremonies right after hers). I still object to paying $8 to park at my daughter’s graduation but it is what it is. The stadium seating was packed along the sides and we ended up sitting pretty high. As a result I could not tell which person was my daughter. It was a sea of caps and gowns. The family member with the camera kept pointing to her but I had no idea where she was pointing. So I just played along. It took a little bit to get to our letter of the alphabet as the students were seated alphabetically. When my daughter’s row stood up, though, I spotted her right away. She had a dress on under her gown but she was wearing her tennis shoes. Everyone else had dress shoes on but not my daughter. She even told the school, “I don’t care about the rule. I’m not even wearing heels when I get married…Well, maybe I will then. It depends how cool the shoes are.” Now that’s my daughter! I could see those shoes from way up in the stands. Then there was her walk. She didn’t walk tall and gracefully like a runway model. She walked like her skateboard was under her arm. While the girls in heels had to watch their step getting on and off the platform, my daughter hopped the steps like it was a rehearsal (which she slept through instead of going) My daughter shook hands like she just met a new kid in the neighborhood and held up her diploma like Rocky with his belt. After the ceremony we met up and the first question she asked was, “They can’t take this diploma back now, right?” I assured her they couldn’t. It was only then that I realized she graduated with honors. So much for keeping track of the little things. We went to dinner at a restaurant we frequented. My wife’s side of the family was there and so was mine. Everyone got along fine and then we went home for presents and cake. When I brought out the printer and laptop for my daughter she started to cry because she was so happy. She’s having an open house next month at my father-in law’s house. As for the cake, my wife said we only needed a quarter sheet but I insisted we needed a half sheet in case her friends came over. I put my foot down and just ordered it. Well my daughter asked if she could have one of her girlfriends over for cake and I agreed. That one girl brought 13 boys! So much for my daughter saying she had no friends. You would think that I would be alarmed by all the boys but they were all respectful. That’s pretty rare these days. They all went out for a while and that was the night. So overall, it was a good day and I was so proud.

Sunday Excerpt "Crucible"

“Your family has a very strange dynamic,” Miri said as she added to her green pile.
Bander was jumping to reach higher branches with his axe and answered, “How so?”
“Well,” Miri began. “Take the relationships. Linvin and Anvar are close. Anvar, Rander and you are close. You seem to be getting closer to Linvin but you seem to have some bad blood from the past. Rander and Linvin simply do not get along at all. Has it always been this way?”
“Near as I can remember,” Bander answered casually. “Ever since I can recollect me and Rander have hated Linvin. Whenever we done got put together we always ended up in fights. Yep. Shed a lot of blood scrapping with each other. Lost some teeth too.”
Miri was horrified. “Whatever were you fighting about?”
“Actually, I don’t rightly know. We just hated him. Come to think of it, he didn’t start most of the fights but he sure did lay a good whooping on us. “
“Why did you hate him?” Miri pressed.
Bander stopped working and thought for a long while. His puzzled expression finally changed and he answered succinctly, “Because Rander said we hated him.”
“That is not reason,” Miri protested. “There must surely have been more to it than that.”
Bander simply shrugged his shoulders and said, “Rander’s the smart one in the family. If he said ‘we hate him and we’re going to put a beating on him’, then he must know what he was talking about.
Miri walked over to Bander and said softly but firmly, “I mean no disrespect to your brother but in the short time I have known Rander he has never seemed to know what he was talking about. In fact, every judgment he has made since our escape has been completely wrong.
“I see the changes taking place with you. Deep down you know I am right. That is the reason you follow Linvin’s orders. You know your brother is wrong and Linvin is correct. Don’t you?”
Bander became flustered and walked back and forth in a very small area so it had the effect of him doing little more than turning in circles. “You don’t understand,” he said in frustration. “Greenliths don’t like Grithinshields. Mom said so and Rander said so. That’s two big people saying ‘So’. Dad died in the war and I don’t remember him having anything good to say about Grithinshields. He called them ‘greedy humans’ and ‘members of a diseased race’. They really didn’t like how Linvin’s family was all rich and we were all…not.
“All the Greenliths were real mean to Aunt Jelena too. Ever since she married Uncle Dirk, Mom said she didn’t like her no more and we weren’t going to either. Only Uncle Anvar was nice to Linvin and his folks. Mom 303

would get real mad at him but he somehow had sort of like these ways of making everybody get along. Well, maybe we didn’t get along but he broke up a lot of fights.”
Miri sat down as the pieces of the puzzle came into place for her. Then she smiled and said, “Sit by me for a moment.” Miri was a difficult person to refuse. Bander sat down next to her like a schoolboy by his teacher. “You have given me reasons why your family dislikes Linvin. If I understand correctly, the Greenliths simply do not like Humans. By marrying your uncle your Aunt Jelena was ostracized from the family. They thought she was a traitor. When Linvin’s family became wealthy the resentment grew. Does that sound right?”
Bander nodded forcefully. “Yep. That sounds about right. You got a real nice way of making sense of things. It’s nice and short. Makes it easy to understand.”
“Thank you,” Miri said graciously. “What bothers me the most, however, is you have not given me one reason why you dislike Linvin so. All you have said is that Rander told you to hate him. We have just established Rander does not know what he is talking about.
“I have watched you and you are not the fool of which you play the part. You are perfectly capable of making your own decisions. So I put it to you alone. Do you really hate Linvin?”
“Well, he seems pretty nice,” Bander answered quickly.
“Do you trust him?”
“He’s saved our lives a whole bunch of times and he always thinks of what is best for the group. So yah, I suppose I do trust him.”
“Did you promise to follow him?”
“Sure did,” Bander nodded. “Me and Rander promised although I think Rander just wanted the money Linvin offered for coming along.”
“Did you just come because Rander said to do so?”
“That and Linvin said he needed our help. So I figured ‘if he’s asking for our help after all the bad blood, he must really need it. I best be going with him’.”
Miri smiled and returned to her work. “You have a good heart, Bander. Be mindful of your brother. If you really think over your lives together I would bet he made sure he was always the one who came out on top while you bore the brunt of the work. He is not to blame either. You have been taught from birth how to behave and to despise your cousin. You are a man now who can decide for himself.