Rage Against the Boobeaucracy, Vol. 1, part 1.

When my PCP called to tell me the not-good news, the first thing she did was try to sign me up for the Breast Clinic at my health plan. But the first thing I did was call my sister. She's an epidemiologist and knows all there is to know about the good and bad of Boston-area hospitals.

And she told me, "No, no -- your health plan won't refer you to the hospitals that are best for breast."

Which is true. BUT! It turns out that Bravest's health insurance, hard-earned right of retirement from 37 years of making sure even people who hate the Gummint have affordable housing, is a PPO plan. I can go anywhere, and work with nearly any doctor, with no penalty. HOTCHA!

Now, while I was figuring this out, the mills of Boobeaucracy were grinding away over at the health plan. And so I got called by a surgeon's office. I told them I was still trying to figure out where I wanted to be treated, and then looked the fellow up on the health plan's own website. And LO! He's not even a breast specialist or a cancer surgeon -- he specializes in vascular surgery.

!!!!!!!!!

So I called them back and told them that wouldn't be happening. And then I called back my PCP, who was more than slightly appalled.

And today, I got a call from the lady in charge of all the insurance biznay at the health plan, who not only affirmed that I get to go where I want and get treatment from who I want, without having to change anything about my other health care, but told me that there was officially Hell To Pay about my bad referral. And then she printed out all my paperwork with her own hands and faxed it to the Dana Farber Clinic, where I have my first appointment on Tuesday.

Score: Lirazel 1, Boobeucracy 0.