Friday, December 20, 2013

Mrs. Hillbilly Mom Will Not Be Denied

I'm sure you'll find this hard to believe...but I spent my whole planning period on the phone dealing with my insurance company. Perhaps you've heard of them: Banishment Well-Being Concern. They are the armpit of the insurance world. No matter what the procedure, they DENY. That's their motto, I think: Deny First, Cover Your Butt Later.

Two weeks ago, I had a routine blood draw for my six-month check-up. I told the phlebotomist the proper lab for blood forwarding. I jumped through all the hoops, crossed all the Ts, dotted all the Is, left no stone unturned. And yesterday I got a bill from my provider stating that Banishment Well-Being Concern was refusing to pay on the claim until they got further information from the insured. That's ME. I'm the insured! But Banishment Well-Being Concern has made no effort to contact me.

So this morning, I fired off an email to my workplace insurance rep. She chastised me, you know for not getting her involved sooner in my four-month prescription meds fiasco. I asked if this was something I should try to handle myself, or should she lay the smack down on them. She replied within the hour that I could give it a try, and to keep her posted. That's the kind of service you get when you start off your email fawning all over her for solving your previous problem.

Sweet Gummi Mary! Banishment Well-Being Concern is such a piece of work! The customer service rep was technically polite. I would hate to do her job all day, covering for crooks, calming irate premium-payers who get not a single bang for their buck. She tried to tell me that Banishment is not my primary insurance. The Not-Heaven you say! It is through my employer. I am the only one on the policy. How in the Not-Heaven is that a secondary insurance? Plucky Buck-Passer told me that their computer records show that Red Plus Red Armor was my primary insurance. Huh. That is carried by Farmer H, with the boys and me on a family plan. But because his insurance card is the same for each family member, none of us having a 0 or 1 or 2 or 3 in the member number, Plucky declared that it was MY policy. She asked a ton of questions, including the member number and group number, Farmer H's life story, birthdate, SS#, and too much more. THEN she had the nerve to say that wasn't enough information, that she needed to know the start date of that policy. Didn't my card have a date? Fat chance. I've never had an insurance card with a date. My answer that it was one or two years ago was not enough for her. She got a bit snotty. Gave me a reference number and said to call back when I found out the effective date.

Huh. I called Farmer H's work, got the date, and called back. Heh, heh. Plucky answered the phone again. It had only been five minutes. She pretended she'd never heard of me. Seriously. How many calls could she have taken in five minutes, when I was on  the line with her for 20 getting unsatisfactory service earlier. So I gave her the reference number, and she pretended to be someone else, and said that she would enter that information, and IF they could prove that Banishment was indeed my primary insurance, they would probably process the claim and pay the provider.

It's like being presumed guilty until you prove your innocence.

5 comments:

knancy said...

Ha, ha, ha! Glad I am retired and don't have to deal with this shit anymore. I just sit around and read your angst (in a hand basket). Waiting......

Sioux said...

John Grisham wrote a novel where the tobacco industry was the bad guy. The "authorities" (at the insurance company, if I remember correctly) were told to denydenydeny until the person died...or gave up.

Sometimes truth is as strange as fiction...

Hillbilly Mom said...

knancy,
Please tell me you were not one of the deniers! I would have no chance of winning against such a formidable adversary!

*****
Sioux,
The CEO of Banishment Well-Being Concern must have read that book.

knancy said...

Actually, I worked both sides of the establishment. I started out in the hospital until I realized it was just another big business. Then I moved on to Wells Fargo - the biggest bank in America. Sold my soul to the company store. Tennessee Ernie Ford. Still waiting for that hand basket.

Hillbilly Mom said...

knancy,
I am about $980 short on funds for my handbasket raw materials. And I REALLY need to sell more handbaskets to make $980! I am an O. Henry story.