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porphyryWay back in March after the auto accident that left my mother and Andrew injured, I immediately set up at the behest of my health insurance something Blue Cross called subrogation. What my health insurance representative assured me was that whenever Blue Cross received a bill, they in turn would turn it over, through this subrogation panel, to State Farm, the auto insurance responsible for payment. They also assured me that they would take care of everything and I wouldn't have to worry about it.
Ha! Months later, I'm still getting unpaid bills stamped "Insurance Refused to Pay" which then means I have to contact the auto insurance and send them all the bills. I also have filled out more questionnaires assuring everyone I have no other health insurance as well; my health insurance, in their steadfast refusal to pay (which, I admit, they shouldn't have to) seems to think I'm hiding some policy I'm not telling anybody about. The one thing Blue Cross has made clear to me, though, is that if I were to take any settlement money from State Farm (Andrew was, through no fault of his own, injured, and State Farm says he is entitled to payment) and Blue Cross had to pay anything, I would be the responsible party for reimbursing them.
What I want to know is--why did I ever think Blue Cross would do anything to help me? Why did I think that after spending two hours on the phone setting up this so-called subrogation which, as far as I can tell, has accomplished nothing, I would be taken out of the equation and it would be the two insurance companies working all this out? Was it because Blue Cross seems happy to take a good chunk of my paycheck every two weeks? Did I think that would make them be my advocate rather than their own? Silly, stupid me!
And then everyone wonders why I believe in nationalized healthcare. This health insurance company could aggravate me into a stroke.
* * *
Malkhos and I still haven't come to a compromise about the sound of poetry. He's currently working on a commissioned piece about a poem of Seamus Heaney's, and we scanned it together, more or less agreeing that it was not, in fact, regular iambic tetrameter as some other Heaney explicators believe. We couldn't do this, of course, without Malkhos extolling the virtues of Edgar Allan Poe's ability to work with meter (or not, as is my opinion). Malkhos is going to go to his grave thinking Poe had an ear for poetry, and I'm going to go to mine believing the man had the deadest ear ever, and that if he were alive today he'd be writing verses for Hallmark greeting cards.
* * *
Andrew has figured out how not to age. He explained his theory to Malkhos yesterday. "Put all your candles on your birthday cake, and then take one off and you'll be four, and then next year you can be three and get your bobo back." [A "bobo" is better known as a pacifier, something Andrew was very attached to and still pines for.]
Ha! Months later, I'm still getting unpaid bills stamped "Insurance Refused to Pay" which then means I have to contact the auto insurance and send them all the bills. I also have filled out more questionnaires assuring everyone I have no other health insurance as well; my health insurance, in their steadfast refusal to pay (which, I admit, they shouldn't have to) seems to think I'm hiding some policy I'm not telling anybody about. The one thing Blue Cross has made clear to me, though, is that if I were to take any settlement money from State Farm (Andrew was, through no fault of his own, injured, and State Farm says he is entitled to payment) and Blue Cross had to pay anything, I would be the responsible party for reimbursing them.
What I want to know is--why did I ever think Blue Cross would do anything to help me? Why did I think that after spending two hours on the phone setting up this so-called subrogation which, as far as I can tell, has accomplished nothing, I would be taken out of the equation and it would be the two insurance companies working all this out? Was it because Blue Cross seems happy to take a good chunk of my paycheck every two weeks? Did I think that would make them be my advocate rather than their own? Silly, stupid me!
And then everyone wonders why I believe in nationalized healthcare. This health insurance company could aggravate me into a stroke.
* * *
Malkhos and I still haven't come to a compromise about the sound of poetry. He's currently working on a commissioned piece about a poem of Seamus Heaney's, and we scanned it together, more or less agreeing that it was not, in fact, regular iambic tetrameter as some other Heaney explicators believe. We couldn't do this, of course, without Malkhos extolling the virtues of Edgar Allan Poe's ability to work with meter (or not, as is my opinion). Malkhos is going to go to his grave thinking Poe had an ear for poetry, and I'm going to go to mine believing the man had the deadest ear ever, and that if he were alive today he'd be writing verses for Hallmark greeting cards.
* * *
Andrew has figured out how not to age. He explained his theory to Malkhos yesterday. "Put all your candles on your birthday cake, and then take one off and you'll be four, and then next year you can be three and get your bobo back." [A "bobo" is better known as a pacifier, something Andrew was very attached to and still pines for.]
