I don't want to make this blog a negative, ranting, dark corner of the internet. I really don't. But I have to. Because I just got my bill in the mail for the delivery of my second born son, and they got the insurance wrong. Again. I registered online (why do they even have you do this? it cuts out absolutely no time when you get to the hospital) and provided my insurance information before I even went into labor. Right after I registered I received a phone call. They had the wrong insurance information. We corrected it. When I got to the hospital they had the wrong insurance information. We corrected it. After I delivered, a woman came to my room to get me to pay before I left. We went over the insurance information and corrected it (good thing I didn't give her my payment information, because they would've overcharged me and I still wouldn't have gotten a refund). Once home I got a series of bills from the hospital, all with the wrong insurance information. This is the eighth time. I am calling them on Monday, giving them the correct information, writing a check for the amount I actually do owe, and then I'm ignoring whatever happens from that point on.
I wish, oh I wish that this was like the wonderful, wild outdoors, where incompetency gets its own reward--only instead of death, it would be an erasure of their "accounts due" database, obviously.
4 comments:
Me too. It's not like that many people have a couple of thousand dollars laying around to pay for a birth when they plan on their insurance. This is kind of an important thing to get right. Sheesh.
Haha. Wow - I wish some things were like in the great wild as well.. the only problem is that I'm sure I would already be dead as well as the insurance company.... somehow - I'm positive of it.
Sure you gave them the right info, Haley... I believe you ;)
That is SO annoying. Errrgh.
On a side note: I like the idea of having some things be like they are in the wild- but with running water, the mall, and no ferocious beats to eat me. Other than that- yeah, totally.
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