The kid tells his teacher that his book report will be late.
- Kid: But it’s not my fault! I didn’t have enough time!
- Teacher: You knew about this 2 months ago.
- Kid: But the library was closed!
- Teacher: When did you go to the library?
- Kid: Yesterday.
You have no sympathy for the kid, right? He should have gotten the book much, much sooner. Procrastination isn’t an excuse.
Of course, what my insurance company did is even worse. You can read the basics here. After sending in the appeal, the insurance company by law has 45 days to respond. At that point, they can request an addition 45 days, which of course they did. So I counted down those 90 days, anticipating and dreading the result, but thankful that at least I’d know, one way or the other. I was glad that I could move out of limbo. I waited impatiently for my lawyer’s call. Almost a week after the deadline, I emailed my lawyer, and she responded that she hadn’t heard anything yet. So I waited more. Finally, more than a week after the deadline, I got the word: they need more time.
And this is where it gets all book report-y. They say they need more time because they need to talk to my rheumatologist. They contacted her and didn’t hear back. I asked when they contacted her. The answer: the day before the deadline. They reached out to her on day 89 of the 90 day response period. So WHY THE FUCK DID THEY WAIT SO LONG?!? Probably, because they can.
There’s nothing I can do, of course. My only recourse is to sue the insurance company, and my lawyer insists that won’t help. The company will argue before a judge that they didn’t get to speak with all of my doctors and the judge will rule that they should get that chance and in the meantime I’ll be paying the legal fees.
So I’m waiting again. I’m waiting and waiting and waiting. I did call my doctor to find out when she’ll respond to the insurance company and I am waiting to hear back from her. And that’s all I can do.
I’m furious. How can this happen? Don’t they realize there’s an actual person whose life is being affected? Who needs to make plans for the future, like whether or not she’ll be able to pay the rent next month? Who needs to know how much she can afford to spend on medical treatments? Where’s the respect for a fellow human being? Why doesn’t the patient have any rights?
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: when I get healthy I’m going to try, somehow, to fix this system. Because this is simply not ok.
Chronic Rants 