WTF?

I kind of like the expression "WTF?"

I don't curse. I think it's ugly. Okay, sometimes it sounds both appropriate and comical from certain people, I admit. But I am not one of those people, and I would not actually say the words that WTF stands for. I do however find myself typing the acronym occasionally. Sometimes, it's just succinctly appropriate.

The other day I opened the mailbox to a hefty bill for one of the chemo infusions I received ---- IN 2010, nearly THREE years ago. This, my friends, just might be an occasion for WTF.

I only recently have stopped holding my breath as I open the mailbox. The constant flow of medical bills blissfully subsided some time ago now. As our lives normalized so too did our financial obligations. So I was caught a bit off-guard by a such a large bill from an era of indebtedness I thought to now be long-closed.

Who takes three years to send a bill? Why is that even legal?

I let the drastically tardy bill sit on my desk for a month. I see it many times over the 4 weeks it collects dust next to my stapler and cup of pens. I'll eventually call and make the payment; it just doesn't feel right to do so right away. The billing office took roughly 30 months to send it to me; I figure they can wait a few weeks while I stew over the injustice of their inefficiency.

Then, like clockwork, I receive another bill the following month, this one now states, "Your account is past due." Really? I want to call and tell them my payment is hanging out with their competency; they should let me know if they find either one.

WTF?

And that my friends is a small peek inside survivorship life.