Tag: Insurance

  • Broken Car Window Throws Off Local Man’s Day

    By Matthew Groff

    April 3, 2024, 11:37am

    When I walked out of my apartment on Tuesday morning, it was an overcast and drizzly day, which felt appropriate for having to move my car for the street sweeper, as Alt Side Parking is one of my least favorite “New York” things that I have to do, sometimes twice a week. The closer I got to my car, I noticed that the car parked behind me had their back window smashed out. “That sucks,” was my first thought. And then I saw my car…

    “This really sucks,” was my next thought.

    And though I knew that my whole day just got shot to shit, I wasn’t that upset. I called my insurance company, and got that process started. A woman came up to my car and told me that she also got her back window smashed in (four cars total got broken into) and she just called the cops who were on the way. I texted my wife and let her know what had happened, and she was pretty annoyed.

    My insurance put me in contact with a window replacement company, and I was making arrangements with them when the cops rolled up. Clearly, most people don’t put the glass people on hold, because when I told him I needed to speak to the police, he seemed annoyed with me. Anyway, I was raised that when the cops show up, you talk to them right away.

    The police took a statement from me, said they were sorry for the situation, and wanted to know if anything was stolen. A cooler bag, I said. That worth anything, the cop asked. No, it was an old cooler bag, I answered. So nothing was stolen, the cop finished. Nothing was stolen, I agreed. The cops were nice, but I think we all knew that there wasn’t anything they could do, but I appreciate the effort.

    I called the glass people back, and made arrangements for them to come replace the window on Wednesday. I went to the hardware store on the block and got some duct tape and plastic to cover up the window. The wife came out and helped me with it. Not our best work, but it would do.

    Then it really started raining.

    Then the glass people called back saying that they had to reschedule because of the three days of rain we were about to get. How does Friday afternoon sound, they asked. Not good, I said. We’ll see you on Friday afternoon, they told me.

    Then I got annoyed. Not with the glass people, because logically I get it. You can’t replace windows in the rain, as coming out to your car is their whole business. What I was annoyed at was that somehow having to reschedule made me feel like I wasn’t in control of this situation anymore.

    Then I checked on the plastic over the widow to find out that our “not the best work”, in fact, was regular “bad” work; Water was getting in the car.

    Then I really felt powerless. Three days of rain, water getting into the car, and the new window won’t show up until Friday afternoon.

    Luckily, I have a wife who can fight through my annoyance and powerlessness, when it occasionally happens to me, and found a nearby parking garage for the car to sit in for the next three days. Which is smart and makes sense, and though costs us some money, at least the car is staying dry.

    And through all of this, my annoyance and having my day thrown off, I never thought about the person who broke into my car. I never felt anger at this faceless person, or entertained feelings of wanting to get revenge, and any angsty questions of “why did this have to happen to me?”

    This whole thing feels like stepping in dog shit. This sucks, and I have to clean up my shoes, but it happens from time to time.

  • Day’s Going Sideways

    Oh, this day has been fighting very hard to slip out of my control and get me either to give up, or go in another, more angry, direction. But I have been pushing back.

    The main culprits are credit card and insurance payments, those bastard brothers who have caused many heated phone calls to call centers looking for explanations. In both of these cases, the phone center people were very nice, and actually did help me. The credit card people refunded a charge no questions asked, but it will take three days to hit my account. The insurance will take fifteen days before they will be authorized to refund the account. Both issues were resolved (I’ll believe it when the money hits our account) but I am left wondering if this is just an example of “threshold of tolerance” polices – you know, when a company makes getting what you want such an annoying burden, that you give up rather than follow through.

    But, I’m not letting this shit on my day, damn it!

    I got chores, and errands, and pick-ups, and phone calls, and blog posts, and journaling, and hopefully starting a second draft of this story, and then homework, making dinner, dog walking, and I’m sure there is something else in there I’m forgetting…

  • My Insurance Wants Me Dead

    A couple of posts back, I had mentioned that I went to the cardiologist, as I was thinking I was close to death because my jaw hurt and I was short of breath going up the stairs. Sure, being out of shape and having a cavity might have been the easy and logical conclusion for my ailments, but I went to the doctor anyway. Now, I wouldn’t characterize his response to me as flippant, but he did not believe my demise was imminent. He ran some tests, nothing bad came back, but to be safe, he thought I should come back and get a stress test.

    And then my insurance stepped in. Word came from The Castle, via a voice mail from a number that was identified as a “Spam Call” that the procedure that was requested by my doctor was denied. No justification or explanation was given by the AI voice that delivered this information. But, the voice went on, if I felt that this decision was incorrect, I could appeal by calling their automated phone line, or visit their website to use their automated IM chat service. Either way, I was promised that I would not have to talk to a human, and in the reverse, they created a system where the people of the insurance company didn’t have to talk me. Thusly, human interaction is eliminated.

    I find it odd, that the for-profit health insurance industry, specifically the company we have, likes to remind us that they are in the “people business” and that “our health is their business” as well. And the more I thought about it, I don’t think I have ever spoken to a human at the insurance company in the three years we have been with them.

    Then I started to think that maybe this insurance company is headquartered in one of those empty Midtown Manhattan office buildings. That it’s just a building full of computer mainframes, and rows and rows of empty cubicles and offices. That these computers make decisions based on bottom lines and liability probabilities, which in the end, the algorithm decided that seeing if my life was at risk wasn’t worth it. I was just a datapoint. Datapoints for as far as the eye can see…

    Now I have to call my cardiologist and see if he can get this denial changed. I guess he has the phone number that connects you to a person, or a better automated AI system.

  • The Cardiologist

    When it comes to my overall health, like how healthy am I, I would say I’m okay. I’ve made no excuses for having not taken my health seriously for the past couple of years. Covid didn’t help, but I have put on twenty pounds over the past four years. The weight isn’t really the issue, it’s the fact that I stopped making my health a priority. Since last year, I have been making a more concerted effort. Though I mess up often, I still try to improve things, and I’m at it again.

    Part of my motivation to get back in a healthy place is my daughter, and wife. Not only do I want to be alive with them as along as possible, but I also want to set a healthy example for the kid. The other part is that when my older brother was my age, he had a stint put in after he noticed some pain in his jaw while working out. He immediately saw his doctor, and ended up getting that stint as he had a serious blockage in an artery. Then a few months later, the same thing happened to my father; working out, then jaw pain, but he ended up having a bypass. All of this was almost ten years ago, but I learned the lesson- pay attention to the warning signs.

    You see where I’m going here – I got jaw pain. This was about two weeks ago, and I was sitting on the couch, so my thought wasn’t heart attack, but that I needed to see the dentist. Then it went away, and would come back, and go away again. But the pain never showed up when I would work out. I again chalked it up to a dental problem.

    Then this weekend, we were taking our Christmas decoration boxes to storage, which meant I was running up and down the stairs in our walk up building, and I just couldn’t catch my breath. I knew I had let myself go a little, so being out of breath was expected, but I felt that I could catch up. And then I got a little jaw pain.

    It did pass, but I’m not stupid. I told my wife what was happening and made an appointment to see the cardiologist. I would see him Monday afternoon.

    And that started the long wait until I saw the doctor. I’m a high functioning neurotic person, so that was like one of the worse things that could happen to me. Luckily, the kid was off of school for MLK Day, so she distracted me. But in the back of my head, that thought of being told that I was moments from death, that I needed surgery NOW! was clearly fighting to get in the driver’s seat of my conciseness. It wasn’t that I thought I was going to die, but more like something would be found that would change everything.

    But I went, nervous as I was. I have a feeling that the cardiologist’s office sees a great number of middle aged men that are too nervous at being there. I kept trying to remind myself that everything that would happen, would all be things that would help me start to feel better. I said that to myself as I lay on the table, staring up at the ceiling as the technician ran a cardiogram on me. I was listening to hear if the technician made any sound that would signify that they saw something negative and detrimental from the results. I bet they all take a class about how not to have a tell in front of patients, because the tech gave nothing away.

    When the doctor came in, he asked me for my story. I tried to keep it to the point, just facts no flourishes; jaw pain a few weeks ago and thought it was a tooth ache, did a physical task of running up and down stairs which caused jaw pain and shortness of breath, brother and father had jaw pain which lead to the discovery of their heart issues, out of an abundance of caution and the family history I am here to make sure there are no issues with me. He asked me follow up questions, but I got a feeling that he didn’t believe that I had a heart issue. Now, he did tell me I did the right thing to come in and check it out, and he wanted me to get an echocardiogram, which he would send that technician in to do next.

    And I waited. I did bring a book, so I didn’t waste the time, but still, I waited for awhile. Then a new technician came in to tell me that they were still waiting for approval from my insurance to get the echocardiogram. I didn’t ask this, but my first thought was what if the insurance company says no to the test? It made me rather annoyed, as why does the insurance company get to decide what I need rather than me or my doctor, but that’s an angry blog for another day. When the tech returned, she had said excitedly, “You’re Approved!” which was nice to hear, but still left me feeling like I was at the mercy of a corporation.

    When the test was being run, and the wand was placed on my heart, I again tried to gage off the technician if she was seeing something awful. Just like the last technician, they had a good poker face. Then the doctor popped in. He leaned over the tech’s shoulder looking at the screen and said, “Everything looks okay. We’ll schedule you for a stress test, and I’ll talk to you then.” and he was gone. The echocardiogram went on for like another fifteen minutes, but in essence I was done.

    That was it. “Everything looks okay.” I took to mean that I wasn’t dying, and that there didn’t look like anything was killing me. My health was okay.

    Right? That was the correct way to interpret that. Because if something looked bad in my results, they would have said something. I’m not crazy for thinking that, right?

    So, I went home. Had a glass of wine with the wife, ordered noodles, ate with the family, and watched the Cowboys defeat the Bucs while texting with friends. Just going back to living my life like normal. I’ll go to the gym, like normal. Shop for groceries, like normal. Just live normal. I need to go see the dentist, right?

    I guess I’m okay, and this is what being in your forties is like. Something hurts, I think it’s life threatening, I see a doctor, and I go back to normal.

    Huh…