My dad came to visit and promptly developed pneumonia. He's 87, so when he actually agreed to go to urgent care, I knew he was sick.
We went to a place we'd used for COVID testing. Different name now, same building. Despite having an appointment, we waited half an hour to get called in and another 45 minutes in the exam room. I finally stepped outside and found three people in scrubs sitting around laughing. When I asked how much longer we'd be waiting, one rolled her eyes and informed me the doctor was with another patient. No shit. I was hoping for something a little more helpful.
Fortunately, the doctor was lovely to Dad. She ordered a chest X-ray, diagnosed pneumonia, prescribed two antibiotics and gave him a COVID test. She told us to come back Thursday for another X-ray and said she'd make the appointment herself. We agreed on 11 a.m.
Thursday arrived, and so did the receptionist who seemed personally offended that we were alive. No appointment. Apparently, the doctor hadn't made one, and they didn't even have appointments available at 11. Fine. Can he get his X-ray? Nope. Nobody there to do them. Come back at three.
We returned at three, endured another eternity in the waiting room, and finally saw a PA who questioned why Dad needed another X-ray. Perhaps because YOUR DOCTOR TOLD US TO COME BACK FOR ONE? They also had no record of his COVID test. Were we sure he'd had one? Well, I watched someone shove a swab up his nose, but perhaps I imagined it.
After some debate, we got the X-ray. Thankfully, Dad was improving.
Meanwhile, Dad had generously shared his germs with me, and I had bronchitis. I scheduled a virtual visit with the same practice. My first doctor never showed up. My second appointment was canceled. Then I received a text asking why I hadn't joined my appointment. When I finally connected, the doctor insisted she'd been waiting for me the whole time. Whatever. I felt like shit. Just give me the antibiotics.
Did I mention the place was filthy? I'm not entirely convinced anyone had washed the floors since COVID.
Dad recovered, I recovered, and I vowed never to set foot in that place again.
About a month later, they found me anyway.
A bill for $185. Apparently, my insurance didn't cover virtual visits. That's interesting, because I knew damn well it did.
I contacted Aetna, who confirmed that virtual visits were covered. The problem was the billing. Carbon Health had submitted an urgent-care procedure code for my virtual appointment, and Aetna needed a corrected claim before reconsidering payment.
Rather than correct the claim, Carbon Health apparently decided I was a self-pay patient.
Enter Andy from billing.
Andy informed me that Carbon Health doesn't call insurance companies.
I'm sorry, what?
You're a medical billing department. You submit claims to insurance companies for payment, but you don't actually communicate with them? What the fuck do you do all day?
I explained that Aetna had specifically requested a corrected claim. Andy explained that submitting another claim would result in a duplicate denial. I explained the difference between a corrected claim and a duplicate claim. I also explained that I was perfectly willing to pay whatever my insurance determined I owed. What I wasn't willing to do was pay $185 because his billing department couldn't be bothered to correct its own mistake.
Andy remained unmoved.
Then I remembered they had my American Express card on file.
Absolutely fucking not.
I logged into my account to remove it, only to discover that their system required a payment method. Fortunately, I had an old Vanilla gift card lying around with exactly $4.19 remaining.
I entered the card information.
It accepted it.
So now Andy can take all the time in the world to sort out his little insurance problem. He's got access to precisely $4.19 of my money.
Enjoy your half a Starbucks coffee, Andy.
And don't spend it all in one place.
Amazing story! 🖤🖤