My battle, though I had yet to recognize it as such, began back in October 2009, a few weeks after my arrival in France. I filled out my application for a "carte vitale," the French medical insurance card which separated the time-tested residents from the seasonal study/work-abroad crowd.
Four months later, my application was rejected on grounds that I'd forgotten to include a photocopy of my ID, step #1 on the to-do list I'm certain I meticulously followed. To ensure that I wouldn't be rejected again, I tossed in a couple extra photocopies of additional IDs and sent them all in, but my strategy backfired: another two months later, I was again rejected for not having given any form of ID. I now began wondering just where these photocopies of my ID might be circulating in the greater Paris region and I carefully included only the very specific form of ID requested in my third application. I waited patiently.
After three months of silence, I took matters into my own hands and decided to give my medical insurance office a visit. It turned out that my insurance card got " lost in the mail" as I'd certainly never received it. First step was to file an official "lost in the mail" declaration form and then patiently wait to renew my application.
Two more months-- another visit to my medical insurance office only to learn that I would not be permitted to reapply as my coverage as a Masters student would end in only three months-- certainly not enough time to process the paperwork that they'd already received (and lost) thrice.
My new medical insurance office, one for salaried persons (which I became upon entering my doctoral contract last October) couldn't help: they were unable to recognize my existence until I had three months' pay slips, and with pay slips arriving via snail mail about two months after the receipt of each pay check, I had to 1. wait five months before I could, 2. fill out paperwork proving to my new office that I existed (which would take another month or two to process) before I could 3. try reapplying once more for a medical insurance card via the same application I'd first filed in October 2009. Joy.
By now experienced in the ways of French administration, I prepared my lastest medical insurance card application and photocopied every page that entered the envelope, braced for the worst.
About a month later, quite unceremoniously, I opened my mailbox to pull out a nondescript envelope which I opened to discover (much to my shock) my "carte vitale," the medical insurance card. I'd have expected at least a little "Congratulations, survivor" note included, not to mention some confetti filling to mark the joyous occasion, but you won't see me rushing to my office to file the ten or so pages of documentation (which would promptly get lost) that might have been required to propose future weary recipients of their medical insurance cards get a little pat on the back.
In stride, I opened my wallet and slipped this baby over my driver's license, of little use these days here in Paris. I silently carried on, feeling like a valient gladiator walking away from a particularly gory battle which none of my fellow pedestrians even realized I'd been fighting. Today, I became a little more Parisian.
Oh, sweet victoire.
No comments:
Post a Comment