(Faking) Sick Bitch

This Bitch calls me on the phone.
"I want you to go through this denial letter I just got from you," she tells me.
I tell her that her case is no longer in my system and she will need to call the number on the letter for assistance.
She proceeds to tell me about how much pain she is in.
She tells me about how she is able to feel every knife cut during every surgery because she has a metabolism that absorbs anaesthetic faster than everyone else on the planet.
She yells at me that the doctor that I sent her to measured her blood pressure and recorded the blood pressure as being 60/40, which is "almost comatose", but told her to drive home after getting that reading, and "isn't there some kind of liability issue when one of your doctors tells a comatose person to drive home?"
I tell her, again, that I cannot help her, as I no longer have access to her case, and she will need to call the number on the letter for assistance with her appeal process. Those are the people who can help, I tell her. I cannot help you.
She yells at me some more, telling me that we didn't even get information from the correct doctors. We got out of date information and information from doctors who told her to drive home when she was almost comatose.
I asked if she was referring to a letter she had received.
She said that she was, and started yelling at me, again, about how much pain she was in.
Because she had moved so far beyond my initial question, I went back.
"Are you referring to a letter?"
"Yes, you sent me a letter!"
"There is a number on that letter that you can call to get help with these issues."
"I don't know where I put the letter."
"You will need to find that letter, as there is a phone number on the letter which will put you in touch with people who can help you."
"YOU sent the letter to me!"
"No, I didn't," I explain, "it was sent to you from an office in California where you filed your application."
"I don't know where that is."
"You don't know where you initially filed your application?"
"Yeah, I do."
"You do know where you filed your application?"
"Yes!"
"If you contact them, they can give you a copy of the letter which has the telephone number on it for the people who can help you with this issue."
She started telling me about some other physical issue she had, and I only had the opportunity to say "uh" before she stopped and yelled, "Fine! You don't care! You've made that clear! Carry on!"

It's this kind of behavior that makes me long for a nuclear holocaust in that woman's asshole.