You know, insurance companies just piss me off to no end.
I have had two prescriptions in the past 6 months denied by my primary insurance. Are they for highly experimental, incredibly expensive drugs? No! This last one was for… Allergy Medication! Yes, that’s right, my right to breathe has been denied. Why? Why can’t I have these lovely little pills that allow oxygen to my brain? Because the insurance company thinks I should try two other medications *first*. Um, hello? You are an insurance company, not my doctor! I’m not sure how someone sitting in a fabric covered box in California knows better than the doctor I went to see in person what would work for me.
While this may be a minor irritation (luckily my husband’s insurance covers it with no questions asked), it makes me worry. What happens when I get pregnant? This is the scenario I imagined…
Doctor: You need an ultrasound.
Insurance Company: I’m sorry, but we don’t cover ultrasounds right off the bat. You need to go to a seedy Italian restaurant and have the bus boy make booping sounds against your stomach while their dishwasher draws the baby. If that doesn’t work, perhaps we’ll allow an ultrasound. But just one. (20 points if you get the Dilbert reference *and* can tell me what episode it’s from.)
Doctor: Hey, your water broke, you should go to the hospital to give birth.
Insurance Company: I’m sorry, but the hospital is not covered until you try some (cheaper) alternatives. We want you to try giving birth on the kitchen table first. Then, if that doesn’t work, try going to a restaurant and giving birth there. And if that still doesn’t work, then you can go to the hospital.
I know that’s an extreme example, but the insurance companies seem to have that kind of power these days. I don’t know about you, but it scares the crap out of me.
Doctor: Your child needs vaccinations.
Insurance Company: I’m sorry, those are not covered under your current policy until you’ve tried an alternative. Take your child out to alley behind the liquor store and rub him/her on a sick hobo. If that doesn’t work, we’ll consider paying for the vaccination.
If I ever get a highly infectious disease, I’m going to go visit them so they can give me their medical recommendations in person. I’ll make sure to lick the handles of every door on my way out.