Friday, May 16, 2014

Insurance beating me down left and right

So this week I received a letter from Medicare stating I owe them $14.4k because they forked over the money to pay for my hospitalization after my partial hysterectomy surgery. Oh, they paid for the surgery - but the fact that I didn't just get up and walk away from it that night and had the audacity to stay 48 hours to make sure I was not, you know, bleeding internally WAS JUST OUTRAGEOUSLY GREEDY.

Never mind they already paid it and it's been two and a half fucking years; I have to back pay them. SO I now have to rally both my GYN and cardiology team to submit ample documentation to support the justification for that stay. 

I am too stressed out to make any witty jokes. I just want to live a fucking normal life where having a chronic illness that needs constant upkeep isn't a punishable offense. 


Upon further inspection, the bill is actually for the provider - not the beneficiary (i.e. ME). I just received a copy to keep me aware of what is going on. So, apparently, UCLA did not bother to submit the claim until Nov 18th - and by that time I'd had my surgery, was discharged 48 hours later and re-admitted with an infection. I don't know if that was some diabolical strategy on someone's part to make sure I had my surgery anyway, or just some really lazy jackass, but wow. Now, I'm not out of the woods quite yet  - I fully expect UCLA to be petty assholes and come after me for those charges, even though Medicare made it very clear that they deemed me unaware of the situation (which I was) and not at fault or responsible.

This could potentially get ugly.

Sunday, April 27, 2014

Venting about my Pharmecuticals

Believe it or not, I've had a lot to talk about these last 6 or 7 months but just chose not to.
Something happened tonight, however, that is preventing me from a decent night's sleep and where two hours ago I was excited for what is one of the best events I'm fortunate enough to get invited to, I am now dreading the morning.

So, somewhere in the ballpark of 4-5 months ago, I had a huge argument with my pharmacy about what prescriptions I take precisely. I take two different doses of the same medicine each day: 160 mg in the AM, 120 mg in the PM. I can't even tell you how long my dose has been like this; somewhere between 12-15 years. So it's not like I'd forget something like it.

My pharmacy had enrolled me in "auto-refill" which was giving me an abundant number of pills - so much so that I eventually put a stop to it and weaned off the stockpile I had so none expired and went to waste, and then when I went to manually fill it in, they had a HUGE shit storm and instead of actually calling my goddamn cardiologist office to confirm the prescription, they just decided to ignore the issue for four fucking days until I came storming in demanding my fucking medicine. They kept insisting I don't even take those pills and I was like YOU ARE FUCKING INSANE I take these goddamn pills every single mother fucking night. I won't lie - I looked like a crazy woman because I was near tears and my tone could cut a bitch in half. Long story short, it was resolved and the prescription renewed and you bet your bottom dollar TEAM RACHAEL! reamed them the fuck out for not contacting them.

Then I started noticing something weird - so, as stated, I take 160 mg in the morning. Usually, I'm given 60 pills of 80 mg - i.e. I take two of these in the AM to equate to the full 160 dose. Still with me?

Well, shortly after the debacle, I began to receive 160 mg pills straight up. OK. No big deal, so long as I get it. Then, within the last cycle of refills, I received 80 mg again. All right. Whatever. The last pick-up, though, gave me with 160 and someone was telling me, "Oh. Sorry for the wait - we had to get it passed the insurance." The fuck--? 

Now, I should have said something, I'll admit because clearly someone is confusing my 160 vs. 120 again because...

When I go to refill (via telephone) my 120 mg tonight, the automated message tells me "your prescription is invalid."


The prescription clearly says on the label "refill 10 times until (blah blah date, 2014)"

I'm so livid I can't even see straight - I left a message on their machine but probably fucked up my phone number because I was THAT mad. I am that mad. So first thing in the morning, instead of doing my hair and make-up for this awesome event, I have to march down there and give them what for. Again.

I don't know who is fucking this up - there are a number of incompetent people in that pharmacy; brainless yahoos who don't know how to organize themselves or figure out the difference between 160 and 120 mg of the same goddamn pill. 

This is my third goddamn pharmacy in 10 years and I'm horrified by the complete ineptitude of these melon farmers. 

I really don't want to get TEAM RACHAEL! involved, but dollars to donuts my mom is probably not going to let me go down there in the morning because I'm so pissed off. The problem is it's me or her - and while I can be pretty scary, my mother is downright terrifying. Tiger Mom is the last team fighter you tag with Street Fighter turbo, you know what I mean? 

Anyway. I just had to rage this out so I can get some sleep.