I’ve been writing a lot of letters lately, probably in reaction to all the reading of old letters I’ve been doing. I had honestly forgotten how much I enjoy it. I, like everyone else on the planet, love receiving a handwritten letter. The thrill of seeing an envelope addressed in handwriting makes my day.
When I was in college, the local post office put out the mail in our boxes as it arrived. I was one of the people who checked her mailbox faithfully twice a day, and I nearly always had mail. Probably because I sent out so much. One of the things that going through all my stuff has revealed is that I was a genius correspondent. Alas! I did not seem to put nearly the same amount of effort into my studies. It all worked out in the end, though – every job I’ve ever had (except for being a housecleaner) has involved being able to write.
I am not a fussy writer. Nor am I a fanatic grammarian. I have my pet peeves, like all writers, but I do not get upset about whether other people use the Oxford comma, although I am an Oxford comma gal myself. I just want to be able to get my message across.
I wish that our medical system felt the same way. Reading through a medical bill is absolutely frustrating, especially now, because after you sort through reams of paper relating to percentages of what is covered and what is not covered, you have to sometimes call and ask what the code for the procedure you are being billed for is.
This happened to me recently. I received a bill from a local medical establishment for a procedure, claiming that I had already paid a percentage and that I needed to pony up the rest of the money. This was not insubstantial money, so I was quite peeved. There was no explanation of the procedure, only a code number, which I will call ZZTOP.
This bill, let me also mention, was for something that had taken place more than a year before I received the first bill, so I was totally perplexed. So I went through my checkbook and my appointment books and could find nothing that corresponded to that date and time, nor a previous payment of that amount – to anyone.
This was upsetting, because that meant I would have to call them. I poured myself a gallon of coffee and dialed the 1-800 number provided.
I was told that I was going to have to wait at least 6 minutes, but since they assured me that my call was important to them, and played such lovely elevator music, I waited.
I answered at least ten emails while waiting for them to answer.
As soon as I asked my question, they explained to me that they were merely the billing service for the local medical establishment, and I assured them that I understood that, but that I would not pay for anything without knowing what it was.
“So, Ms. Lemen, you are telling me that you want to know what the bill is for?”
“Yes.”
“What does the bill say?”
“ZZTOP,” I answered.
“Oh,” she said. “That’s for a COVID vaccine.”
“You are attempting to bill me for a COVID vaccine during the pandemic?”
“I am not trying to do anything, Ms. Lemen. I am just explaining to you what the bill says. You are going to have to call the local establishment to clear this up.”
So I did. I went through the entire rigmarole again, except that when we had gotten through the entire story, the young man on the end of the line said, “You do understand that I am at the billing service. This is not the local establishment.”
“But I called the local establishment billing department.”
“I know. But there is no local billing department anymore. Just us. But I’ll transfer you to someone who can help.”
The next voice that answered said, “Good morning. This is Dr. X.”
I thought, “Wow! An actual doctor?” and went into my story, when Dr. X interrupted me and said, “I am a dentist. I have no connection to the local establishment. I have my own practice.”
“Then how did I get to you?”
“Ma’am, I have no idea.”
I hung up, totally mystified as to what was going on, but also totally determined NOT to pay this bill.
So, I called the local establishment’s main desk and explained my predicament, and much to my delight, I received a phone call back explaining exactly how the error happened. Apparently, when I got my COVID vaccine, I was asked for my insurance card, which I supplied, so they billed my medical provider. They weren’t supposed to. This was why I had not received a bill. But somehow, after rectifying their initial error, another bill was generated. My provider apparently coded it wrong, which is why I received the bill.
“So what do I do now?”
“Nothing. It’s fixed. And if you do get another bill, call me directly.”
I’ve never had to call her back, but I am watching the newspaper. This person has been in heatlh care a long time. And when she retires, I will send her a handwritten note, because saving me that money was amazing, but even more amazing was that she personally took the time to solve a problem for someone else.
Communication is the key.
You can reach June Lemen at junelemen18@gmail.com
