I had a hellish day at work yesterday but I'm bouncy this morning. I'm not sure if it's the Coke ZERO (for goodness sake), but I think it's utter and total gratitude.

 DH and I have been battling Blue Cross for over a year now, trying to get them to cover Danny's occupational therapy. We racked up quite a bill with the OT while I went back and forth, getting denied for various reasons (most of them bullshit), and finally had to stop his therapy because we were so behind on the bills.

In total and utter frustration, I scheduled a meeting with the head of HR here, and DH and I went in loaded for bear. We talked for nearly an hour. I brought with me a stack of paperwork, from Danny's medical records, hospital record from his birth, school forms and report cards, and leading up to his neurology report. The diagnosis from his neurologist is mild static encephalopathy, which is a fancy way to say our kid has brain damage.

What, now? What's that you say?

As far as we know, it's not horrible. I mean, he's not mentally incapacitated (in fact, he's pretty bright), and as long as we don't see regression, the neurologist just wants to check him every year or so and make sure he stays active and in OT. So, scary words aside, our kid will probably be okay, but he needs him some OT!

The turning point in the meeting with Mr. HR was when DH pulled up the policy on his computer and showed Mr. HR all of the inconsistencies in it. They constantly refer to OT as being considered like speech therapy, but for ST they'd cover "congenital anomalies" and they said nothing about them with reference to OT. At that point, Mr. HR really started to sit up and take notice. He tried to find some paperwork in his office actually defining both ST and OT, and was unable.

Mr. HR wrapped up the meeting by essentially focus-grouping us about other benefits here at ****, which I took to be a good sign. I mean, why would he care what we thought if he was going to blow us off? So we left that meeting in early May, cautiously optimistic.

Flash-forward two months. I've heard jack shit from Mr. HR, despite a decent number of emails and phone calls politely requesting a status update. Last week, I got pissy and just walked into his office, sweaty and nasty on my way to pick up the boys from camp.

He was downtown in meetings, his secretary said. Could she take a message? It took every ounce of restraint I had to very calmly and politely express my position. I was having a terrible time reaching Mr. HR; perhaps she could help? I was very sure he was super-busy, but wow, I was just so darned worried about my little, brain-damaged son. I left my business card with my cell phone and "please call me!" written on it, and left.

Color me shocked when Mr. HR called me an hour later, leaving a message for me to call him back.

And imagine my surprise when he informed me that the upcoming year's policy was being rewritten, to classify all speech and occupational therapy as medical events, not subject to any restrictions except an MD's prescription. Holy. Shit.

"Dare I ask if there might be consideration for the therapy we've already completed?" I asked timidly.

Mr. HR took down the date we started therapy and the OT's contact info and said he was instructing Blue Cross to pay all of the claims.

That's right. We fought the law, and we fucking won. I literally got off the phone and screamed "VICTORY IS MINE!" And promptly ran home to find DH and crack open a frosty adult beverage with him.

Because my fight was for my little boy, but I saw it as more than that. How many people know they can fight things like this, or even how? How many people wouldn't or couldn't pursue it just because some company representative says "no?" And now, anybody who works here won't have to. I'm just so very, very pleased. And I can't wait to see my boy doing the monkey bars in therapy, with a big ol' triumphant grin on his sweet face.