I got a letter from a company of which I never heard, but on letterhead of my insurance company.  The letter purported to claim that my doctor had requested testing for XYZ condition, and that the test was not approved for persons with XYZ condition unless they had first done eight or ten other things.

Putting aside the fact that my doctor had never reported to me that he suspected me of having XYZ condition, and putting aside the fact that if his suspicions lay in that direction, that was a hell of a way to learn about it, there was my nagging concern as to why this unknown company would deny coverage for the test.  Oh, I realize that for at least a decade, insurance companies have contracted out this type of review, but I’ve never liked the fact that my doctor isn’t the final arbitrar of what I need and therefore, what the company should cover.  I’m told by anti-Affordable Health Care Act folks that this proclivity will worsen, but I think it has been bad enough for years.

I called the 800# and drilled through three levels of obstinate “customer care” persons.  I asked for  a supervisor any time I felt my hackles rise.  I’m trying not to complain, remember?  I finally got someone with a grown-up’s voice, a last name, and a quick inclination to address the substance of my concern.  He ordered a Peer-to-Peer consult — their doc to my doc.  We’ll see what happens.

But I am left with an age-old question, sung so beautifully by Julie Andrews:  “What do the simple folk do?”  I mean no insult by this.  What I mean is:  Suppose I had been an hourly-wage worker, on the clock from nine to five, unable to leave my duties for the 45 minutes that this phone call took.  Suppose I had only a high school education, no computer, no secretary, no law degree.  Would I have challenged this determination?  Or would I just put the letter in the kitchen drawer, next to the utility bills, and shrug with hopelessness?  How do people without my opportunities and resources combat the grinding machinations of the big corporations which rule our world?  I’ve alluded to these issues in a prior blog entry, but my chagrin on behalf of the faceless worker at the mercy of the system increases exponentially each time I have another such encounter.

Maybe, instead of abandoning the process of complaining, I should just re-direct it.  Maybe I should become a PROFESSIONAL complainer — complaining about the mistreatment of everyone in our society who cannot effectively complain on their own behalves.  It’s something about which I might be giving some very, very serious thought.

Right after I get that test approved.

Ut