monster sarcasm rally

I've been thinkin'. And I don't like what I've been thinking.

I walked to work this morning for the first time in a while. I like walking to work; it gives me time to think. As I walked this morning, I thought about insurance.

Insurance companies make dramatic commercials, portraying themselves as good neighbours. They show images of insurance brokers, agents and call centre reps being helpful and kind; showing people a better way; making sense of a mad, mad world; helping people protect their futures.

Sh... Don't tell anybody, but I'm starting to think there might be more to it than that.

We have health benefits at work. Fairly decent ones, at that... Well, they ought to be; we pay enough for them. When you start with the company, you're required to choose between the Silver plan and the Gold plan. Silver gives you so-so coverage on most things, whereas Gold offers somewhat-better coverage on almost everything.

My asthma medication costs about $100 every two months. The Silver plan would cover 80% of it; the Gold plan covers 100%. I prefer Tradional Chinese Medicine to White People Medicine* whenever possible. The Silver plan covers paramedical services (acupuncture, chiropractic, massage...) 100% up to a maximum of $300 per year per service. With the Gold plan, I get 100% coverage up to $500. So, I opted for the Gold plan. I pay about $100 per month for this coverage. My employer pays the rest. Assuming that my employer pays 50% of the costs, that means I'm really paying $2,400 per year for this service. Am I getting $2,400 out of it? Not even close.

At the beginning of this year, our HR manager sent out a company-wide e-mail about our health insurance. He stated that because we had been making so much use of our benefits, the provider was raising the rates. Being the sort of loving, caring individual that HR managers always are, he proclaimed that the company would swallow this loss on our behalf. Even though the rates were going up, we would not pay anything beyond what we were already paying.

He then included a list, provided by the insurance company, of ways to help keep our claims to a minimum, thereby helping to keep our cost of coverage from going up again. It contained such helpful information as:

Ask your pharmacist to provide you with generic drugs whenever possible.

{The Silver plan stipulates that it will cover only generic drugs.}

Not all paramedical service providers charge the same fees. Don't choose the first masseuse you find, shop around to find the one with the best prices.

{I'm paying for $500 of coverage, you can bet your arsenal I'm going to use as much of it as I possibly can.}

Consider making claims against your spouse's benefit coverage, rather than your own.

{First off, that's dumb. Wouldn't his insurance provider make the same helpful recommendation? Secondly, hello! You assume somebody would marry me! Are you insane? Have you met me? Oh, no, you haven't. Never mind. Still... Dumb.}

Yesterday I found an envelope from our insurance provider in my mailbox when I got home. Oh, goody! A cheque! I tore it open with zest. Well, no... Actually I used my fingers, but whatever. It was a statement.

[rewinding noises]

I placed a claim a few months ago for reimbursement for an acupuncture treatment. Instead of getting a cheque in the post, I got a Request for More Information. Even though I'd processed claims for services provided by the same person before, this time they decided it wasn't good enough. They wanted proof of her credentials, proof of her right to practise acupuncture in the province of Ontario. Thing is, Ontario doesn't regulate acupuncture. She doesn't even need any accreditation or licence. She has them, though, so I send the forms in again. I wait for my cheque.

[forward to yesterday afternoon]

The statement says: We are sorry to advise you that claims may be made a maximum of six months after the date of service. This claim is no longer valid. Denied.

Gee, maybe if they'd've paid me when I originally filed it, this wouldn't have happened.

I can't help but wonder if maybe they don't really care about me as much as they say they do.

*Come on people, this surprises you? I am the local tree-hugging hippy freak!