Fighting the good fight

The latest skirmish in the Insurance Wars… a conversation with a customer service rep.**

You said you paid that bill.

“We did but we changed our minds.”

Come again?

“We paid it but we took our money back.”

I realize your reasons seem self-evident to you, but could you give me a clue?

“We sent you a letter in the beginning of the year which clearly states this procedure will now require pre-authorization. You did not get pre-authorization.”

But you paid at first…

“… a mistake we corrected.”

Finishing my thought… after the procedure was done LAST YEAR.

“Oh, well we must have thought the procedure was done this year.”

You mean two weeks from now?!?

“I don’t understand.”

It must be going around.


The date of service was November 28th, 2011. If you change the year to 2012 it hasn’t happened yet. In fact, why don’t you keep it the way it is, consider this claim as a request for pre-authorization, and pay my doctor next month?

“I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way.”

I’m afraid it doesn’t work at all.

“Your attitude isn’t helping.”

I’ve got a long list suggesting it won’t hurt.


I’m sorry. Will you please just pay the claim? I’m not above begging.

“We’ll need your doctor to resubmit the claim.”


“Sir? Are you there?”

Sorry, I was trying to think of something nice to say.

**While the information presented is accurate, I’ve embellished the dialog a little to burn off a little frustration after the fact.


Love, your health insurance company

I like getting love letters from my health insurance company. They catch me off guard, but it’s nice to know someone is looking out for me.

A few weeks ago I got a letter asking about all of my other insurance carriers after I made a rather large claim. They said they wanted to make sure I could “maximize my coverage.” As they said, “We’re constantly looking for ways to deliver high quality, affordable care to our valued customers.”

Now isn’t that sweet? I could just reach out and give ’em a great big hug. I just can’t figure out how you give a corporation a hug, but if I figure it out I’ll be sure to let you know. I’m sure it’s eating you up inside too.

Then it dawned on me. They paid one hundred percent of the cost for this particular procedure. I’m not sure how you could maximize it any more from my perspective without sending me a check. Not that I’m against the whole check idea, I just don’t think it’s very likely – about as likely as you sending me a check.

You weren’t planning to send me a check, were you?

So I got to thinking. Now, I know what you’re thinking. That sounds unlikely, but it’s true I swear.

Does this mean it wasn’t a love letter?Was something more sinister was going on? Was this really a “cover our financial ass” letter, dressed up as “we’re looking out for you?”

Would a wrong answer turn the sweet nothings whispered in my ear into the grand piss-off?

“Tough shit kid, you’re on your own. Go talk to your x insurance. They’re the ones who really ought to be paying.”

Does this mean they don’t really love me, that they never really loved me?