If you check out the category “Insurance Companies” on this blog, you will find a diary of my life with my insurance company. Our relationship continues to be a source of discomfort for me and anyone within a 10 mile radius of me when I am negotiating with them. I use the word “negotiate” to help me feel like I have some say so in what goes on with my policy. I am not in denial here, I no I have nothing to offer them.
Recently, they called me and wanted me to participate in a survey. They picked me?
It was my chance, the one time in our relationship when they wanted my opinion. Well I let it rip. With the calmness of a person with normal moods, I answered their questions. Truthfully.
I know there is so much going on politically about healthcare. It’s all still a big mess. No one has any idea of how to fix it. I just need one thing. One little thing. That’s all. I want to go to the doctor I think is best for me. I can’t help it that talks failed and now my psychiatrist is no longer a “Participating Provider.” Talks failed? What are we trying to negotiate an arms treaty? “The provider’s fee for service is not within what we consider a reasonable amount.” Huh? She has kept me from screwing my job up, going bankrupt, and twice helped me close the door on suicide. I know how bad I can get. We just aren’t paying her enough.