Last Friday at 5:45 p.m., my health insurance informed me my coverage was TERMINATED. Via e-mail. Um, REALLY?!
Dialing their 1-800 number at 6:05 p.m., I gruffy demanded to speak to a “Representative” over and over. The robot eventually informed me the office was closed. Office hours 8 a.m. to 6 p.m., Monday through Friday. Go figure.
I had the entire weekend to mull it over… I tried to distract myself and not let my mind “go there,” but by Sunday evening, I panicked – shedding tears into my Oprah Magazine. Yes, Martha Beck, I am on the Rumble Strip of Life’s Highway, you mind-reading smarty-pants.
Living well with chronic illness requires many puzzle pieces coming together perfectly to optimize my health and sanity. Health insurance is a BIG piece of that puzzle. I’ve never read my health insurance’s fine print, since I’ve been on the same plan for 3.5 years. Yet, by Sunday night, I convinced myself that the gig was up.
My boyfriend reassured me everything would work out. Somehow… And I sort of believed him, deep down. Thankfully, I had about 3 weeks worth of medication in stock – a good buffer until I figured out next steps.
So, this Monday morning at 8:00 a.m., I re-dialed my health insurance company to find out, from that same female robot, that there had been a massive error of email messages sent out falsely stating that plans were terminated. The robot was “very sorry for any inconvenience.” Music to my ears.
I jumped for joy and yelped “Yay!!!” out loud to myself twice, as if I’d won the lottery. I should be enraged by the error yet, instead I’m 110% relieved and starting my week on cloud 9.
Many other challenges lie ahead, and I will surely fall back onto the “rumble strip” soon enough. Yet, for today, I’m happily re-entering the traffic, knowing it’s an honor simply to be on the (bumpy) road.
P.s. – Martha Beck and I think alike. Check out my previous post “Blindsided: Navigating Life’s Construction Zones”