Insurance Bills - I hate dealing with them.

 

The other day, I got a bill for services (Lab Tests) rendered in December.  Normally, this would not be a problem, save for one thing - the cost.  Knowing that Medicare (Parts A & B) plus my supplemental policy (Part N) should pay for all but my first $200 in expenses, I had to make some calls.

My first call was to the Lab Test company.  After going through automated response hell, I got a response that said: "Your insurance carrier has questions about the bill before it can make payment."  Well, I know that Medicare should have no questions, nor should my supplemental carrier.  So my next call would be to Medicare.

It took me much less time to reach a human at Medicare than expected.  After explaining my problem, the human at the other end found out that no bill was presented to them!  Finally, I had an idea what the problem might be - the bill was sent to the wrong carrier.  Now, it was back to the Lab Test company for more information.

I make my third call, and figure out how to get to a human at the lab test company.  A woman answered, and told me that they sent the bill to the insurance company with whom my former employer used to insure their employees.  (Although I had coverage with them, I used my Obamacare coverage, as it provided better benefits between January and July, when I started on Medicare  This had to be a factor in why other lab test bills got screwed up.)  I gave this woman my insurance information, and waited for her to pick up on the line again - and then, the line disconnected.  

Now, I was a bit upset because at least an hour of my time was wasted on this problem.  But I was calm when I reached another person at the lab test firm.  He told me that the woman from my previous call got the insurance number wrong when she refiled the bill for payment, and I would have to make yet another call the next day to get this problem fixed.  AARGH!

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I'm not sure if I mentioned this before, but I know that my doctor's office must have something to do with this. (Minor, compared with the computer and data entry screw-ups from before.)  A while back, I asked her to see that all bills get presented first to Medicare when I turned 65.  Obviously, I think she didn't contact the lab test company - and that their records never got updated. Yet, I could be wrong about this.  I'm left feeling that America needs to scrap the system we now have and go to a single payer system.  Is this a panacea?  No.  We will have just as many problems with a monolithic health care system as we do with a system run by oligopolies.  But its complexities won't drive people away from getting health care. And that's something I am strongly in favor of.

Stone walls don't a prison make, nor iron bars a cage

As we age, we begin to see many of our friends enter assistive care facilities.  Sometimes, as in the case of XGFJ's mother, little assistance is needed to live a rewarding life.  In the case of my father, much more assistance was needed because my dad was no longer self ambulatory.  Like my father, some people prosper when in the right assistive care facility, as they can resume the socialization denied them by their former isolation.  But in the wrong facility, a social person can feel imprisoned.

When I visited Pat, I noticed how sterile and empty her new place seemed.  Save for the receptionist at the front desk, the place was devoid of people.  There was a small area to the right of the reception desk where kids could play, but I wondered - how many people are bringing very young kids to see their elders in nursing homes these days?  I rarely saw them when I visited my dad, and thought that this room was there more for show than anything else.

RQS and I walked to the elevator and got off on the 3rd floor. I was surprised at how quiet this place was.  Looking to my left, I saw another reception desk in front of us, this one being empty.  In another nursing home, or a hospital, it would be staffed by nurses in charge of patient care.  In this place, it looked like it was set up for a different kind of care facility, but left unused as it wasn't apparently needed to service the patients currently housed in this building. So, we walked down the aisle to Pat's room, knocked on the door, and were greeted warmly.

Pat and her daughter visited several care facilities before choosing this one.  It must have been heart wrenching for her to dispose of many of the things she accumulated over the years.  There was almost nothing from her old life present in the room.  The room was almost as sterile as the hall outside. And this said that this room was not "Home" for Pat.  It was simply a place to stay.

Unlike my dad's nursing home, Pat's place didn't seem to have the on-site services that my dad's place had.  For a place doing some of its business as a memory care center, I found it amazing how few safeguards were there to keep memory care patients from wandering off site.  People like Pat were tasked to find their own transportation to off-site doctors - and possibly get dropped off at the wrong sites with no one to help them get where they need to go.  Yet, they are prohibited from leaving the facility's grounds - even for a healthy walk.  Go figure.

The economics of nursing homes in the United States appalls me.  Like our prisons, many are places which have evolved to warehouse people who have no economic value to the larger society.  (I will not go into prison economics here, save that the "for profit" sector has very little incentive to treat inmates with the full respect that most humans deserve - something it has in common with nursing homes.)  As America ages, "for profit" nursing homes have sprung up, many with the goal of raking in as many Medicare dollars as is possible.  Service quality is not a major factor.  If it was, I'd see more evidence of "enrichment activities" than I did in Pat's facility.

Pat noted several things I won't mention here.  Let's say that one has to take what she said with a grain of salt - even if what she said rang true in my ears.  Without people to socialize with, Pat is now a lonely person with few ways of dealing with her feelings. In short, this place is a prison for her, a cage without bars.

 

Quickie - A rude awakening

 

One of the headaches I'm dealing with is switching insurance from an Obamacare plan to Medicare (with all its pieces).  And I'm seeing that there are more levels to this onion than I knew....

In the past, all I'd need to do to change insurance companies is to show my new card to each service provider.  Now, I have to make sure that all the secondary components (Parts B, D and G) are paid for and are in sync.  This may be the easy part of things.  Getting all providers to switch over the card (issues with Part D, drug coverage) is something else.  I've just fount that Caremark has no ability for me to make this change online.  Therefore, I might have to open up a new Caremark account (with new email address) AND get my doctor to write new prescriptions for everything I need.  AARGH!

Why did I have a rude awakening?

In the past, I paid $50 for a 3 month supply of test strips.  Without coverage (remember, Caremark does not have my new plan on file yet), the same strips cost $350.  AARGH!  No wonder why poor people go without.  Our system is designed to rip off people by default.

As you can guess, I now support single payer health care.  This will never happen here, but it is a nice dream....

Meetups

 

The above picture is from last year's FTF Prom Meetup.  It's a good group to hang out with, but one from which I am drifting away.  Lately, my weekends are filled with time spent with RQS.  And that's a good thing.  Unlike my previous relationship, RQS is comfortable with me as Marian, though she prefers to see Mario.  This is not a problem for me, as we are learning where each other's limits are in this and other areas of life.

Although I will still go to Yonkers game nights, my heart isn't in the games anymore.  Instead, my heart is into being with people who accept me for who and what I am.  Other meetup groups have mostly fallen by the wayside, as I don't have the interest in spending that much time in these groups, nor do I have the need to use meetups as a way of being with people.

- - - - - -

Tonight, I attended a small meetup at a local craft brewery which held a few games of bingo hosted by a drag queen.  It was interesting to hear the Queen mention an old, now closed, gay bar - "It's been a long while since I've seen you at the B Lounge."  That's one person who had me pegged.  But I had a good time, even though I still have to deal with issues related to buying a new car, getting all parts of Medicare insurance set up (A, B, D, & G), and getting my laundry done before RQS comes here for the weekend.  Will I go to tomorrow's food truck meetup?  Maybe.  But I need to have everything ready to go for laundry to make that happen....

Starting to catch up with people

 

Harpo Marx has nothing to do with this post, save this is my favorite picture of him, and that he is my favorite among all the Marx Brothers as people. (Groucho is my favorite on screen.)  

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Today was my last day of work before the weekend.  And my schedule included dealing with a phone call from the Medicare Insurance Agent (for my Part D coverage) and having dinner with a friend from my meetup groups.  What I didn't plan for was a 90 minute phone call with my ex girlfriend Patty, as her hubby was busy with a gig.  So, bu the time I reached RQS, it was getting close to midnight.  

But first....

I haven't been sleeping that well, and I could have used another 2 hours of sleep before going to work.  But I was awake and alert all day.  I guess it relates to me having more liquid when I get up and some calories (in the form of carbs) to burn before leaving home.

After 8 hours at my workstation, it was time for me to leave and get ready for dinner.  Dinner was scheduled for 6:30 at a nearby restaurant.  Since I had the insurance agent scheduled, I pushed the time forward to 7 pm.  And this was a good thing, as the insurance agent didn't bother calling me.  Luckily, the restaurant is 5 minutes away from me and I got there at 7 o'clock sharp. My friend and I had a nice meal together.  She is young enough to be my daughter and she sees me as if I were a cisgender woman.  And that is how I relate to her.   

Once I got home, Patty and I had a nice long chat and caught up on things. I won't go into any of the details here, save that we talked about family members with similar issues, medicare issues, and residence issues.  We could have talked more, but her hubby got home and she wanted to spend time with him.  So I suggested a dinner foursome with RQS, and let her spend the end of the evening with her hubby.

Next was RQS.  We caught up on what was going on for the day, and then it was time to go to bed.  At this point, I picked up some clothing I'd need for the next day, and packed for an overnight with her. However, I made sure that I transferred everything from Marian's wallet to Mario's wallet.  The last thing I want is to have no ID in my wallet when I need it - as happened with XGFJ several years ago....

Medicare - AARGH!

 

Turning 65 is a big pain!  Not only do I have to realize that I am an old person, but I have to change my insurance provider - and not by choice, but by effective mandate.  This is not as bad as it sounds, but it is a confusing mess.

- - - - - -

I always knew that I'd be going on Medicare, but am confused by all the options available to me.  So I registered for a traditional medicare plan (parts A&B) and drug coverage (part D).  But I have also looked into a supplement plan, even though that will cost me extra money.  Could I have gone with an "Advantage Plan" (part C) instead of the others?  Yes, but I have been told that there are issues going down that route.  So I'm buying time by leaving options available to me to choose from in the future.

But what has that to do with being transgender?  Virtually nothing.  One of the things about the transition process is that most of a life continues running as if a person was cisgender. About the only thing different for me is that my ID still has Mario's name on it, and that I still see my internist as Mario.  I can only imagine what will happen if I go towards medical transition.  That's a topic I don't want to think about right now, as I'm not sure if I'll ever go that far....

Getting Old

 

Very soon I will turn 65 and be eligible for Medicare.  It's amazing how quickly time passes.  It seems like yesterday that I was trying to skip out of school and do things I enjoy more.  With the exception that I now want to skip work, it still seems the same to me - there is never enough time, money, or energy to do all the things one wants to do.

In the past, I wouldn't think twice of taking on a strenuous task.  For example, it took the efforts of 3 men (including me) to get my entertainment center up my staircase.  Today, I realize that I will either smash the thing to bits to get it out of my apartment, or that someone will hire some strong men to get it out of my place.  I will not risk my health to get this piece of oversized furniture out of my apartment.

The more I think about it, the more I realize that I should start seriously thinking of getting old.  How far do I want to continue along my path towards femininity?  Romance will limit my progress on that path.  And this might be OK, as there are few old age homes that specialize in the needs of the LGBT community.

Do I fear getting old?  No.  But I fear getting decrepit.  As a result, I will be walking a lot as the weather gets warmer.  Keep your fingers crossed for me....

Waking up late....

 

It's been years since I've taken the Staten Island Ferry and catch this view.  But I was reminded of it today, as I was able to wake up late for a change, and go to a doctor's appointment instead of going to work first thing in the morning.

- - - - - -

Now that I'm about to go on Medicare, this will be one of the last appointments covered by my Obamacare policy.  And I'm not so sure of how I feel about that.  Medicare is not as efficient as care given to the under 65 set.  For example, where I would get yearly physicals from my doctor, he is only allowed to give me "wellness checks"  In short, he has to schedule each needed test on different days, as he is only allowed to test for one ailment at a time.  Although I will have some redundant coverage from work, it isn't that great - my doctor is not on my company's plan.  (That's why I kept my Obamacare policy.)

Once I am done with the doctor, I will be going to work.  That means I will be changing from Mario Mode to Marian Mode in mid morning.  Of course, I will be staying in this mode all day....

Now, if only I had a GP that I could feel comfortable going to as Marian....

Happy Birthday Someone!

 

I accidentally deleted my original entry for the day.  However, I found this birthday card, and picked it up because it reflected my sense of humor.

In many ways, birthdays don't mean that much to me. The reason they don't is that I rarely had someone to celebrate them with.  As a youth, I didn't have many friends.  In middle age, my wife had passed away, and there was no stable relationship with a person who cared to mark this day with me.  And now, its only meaning is to note how much closer I am to death.

Recently, I booked a cruise, and looked at the travel insurance price charts. Each year I get older, I have to pay more for the insurance I need for the cruise.  Then, I thought about turning 65, and having to enroll in Medicare.  So many things start to kick in as one gets older.  Social Security Full Retirement Age (FRA) Distribution starts for me at 66 1/2, and I have to start taking Required Minimum Distributions (RMDs) by the time I turn 72.  Each year denotes something, and not all of them are pleasant.

- - - - - -

There is a person whom I'd wish a Happy Birthday to, that I am no longer in contact anymore.  (She has said things about me that I won't repeat here - her anger regarding a screw up of mine hasn't dissipated in over 2 years.)  Hopefully, she'll see this and enjoy the sentiment of the card above.  

At least, I found this card funny....

As they say - Getting old is better than the alternative....

Sometimes, it's too easy to delete voicemails

Lately, I've gotten so much spam voicemail that I've forgotten that sometimes I person I want to hear from will leave me a message.  This is what happened to me this weekend.

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Recently, a woman at work and I have struck up a friendly acquaintanceship.  When I mentioned that I might need help sorting out all of the medicare options available to me, she volunteered to put her friend in contact with me.  One problem - I accidentally deleted the voicemail, and I don't remember the woman's name.  So I'll have to go back to my friend, mention the situation, and hope I can get the information I need.

Most of the time, dealing with voicemail spam is easy. One swipes to the right to delete the spam.  But when there's lots of spam in the voice mail folder, performing this task can be tedious.  Yes, there are ways to highlight each bad message and then mass deleting them.  But the process is not intuitive.  So I tend to do this one message at a time, and often delete messages I want to keep.

Yet, I'm willing to clean up the mess on my phone, as it's a lot easier to deal with the mess on my computer or in my apartment.