Monday, December 23, 2024

Imperfect Though It Is

 

Oddly enough, introvert that I am, I’ve occasionally had a desire to join a book club.  I enjoy reading; and being able to share ideas and discuss with others what I have read—especially after having read a really interesting book—sometimes holds some appeal for me.

So when I was looking through the local Parks & Recreation department’s brochure of programs for this winter, I was intrigued to see they now have an active book club.  I read further.  Their reading list is novels and personal development/psychology books.  Okay, deep-six that idea.

Self-help books do not make my personal reading list.  The idea of reaching perfection in some area of life through a step-by-step process seems so formulaic, so unrealistic.  I’m human.  I’m imperfect.  And I don’t foresee that changing while I inhabit this earth.   I have as much disdain for this genre of books as I do for “Christmas letters.”

 I’m sorry if you are one who sends out such letters to your friends during the holidays and my sentiments on the subject offend you; but the brag-laden letters that are meant to pass for Christmas greetings just come across shallow and empty to me.  I’m pretty sure the last twelve months have not been the epitome of unmitigated happiness and uninterrupted success for the senders and their families that nearly every Christmas letter I’ve received portrays.  None tells about the heartache, pain, sickness, divorce, depression, financial struggle, addiction, or any of the other maladies that mar the human experience, including theirs. 

That is why I enjoy Kate Bowler’s writings.  Kate, an associate professor of the history of Christianity at Duke University Divinity School, was diagnosed at age 35 with a life-threatening cancer.  She has written about her struggle to conquer the dread disease and gone on to be a New York Times best-selling author: Everything Happens for a Reason and No Cure for Being Human.  You can tell just from the titles that she is on the other end of the spectrum from those pathway-to-perfection books.

This month I’m reading the devotional book she authored with Jessica Richie, Good Enough.  And for my Christmas post this year I share the “Blessing for a Joyfully Mediocre Journey” with which she opens the book.

Blessed are you

who realize there is simply not enough

--time, money, resources.

 

Blessed are you

who are tired of pretending that raw effort is the secret to perfection.

It’s not.  And you know that now.

 

Blessed are you

who need a gentle reminder that

even now, even today,

God is here,

and somehow,

that is good enough.

 

Wherever you are in life’s journey, whatever hurdles have tripped you up in 2024, and no matter how many lie ahead—seen and unseen—may Christmas remind you that you are not alone.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, however imperfect each may be for you.

Roger

“They shall call his name Emmanuel, which being interpreted is, ‘God with us.’” Matthew 1:23

Tuesday, December 10, 2024

A Network of Blame?

 Can the internet bear one more commentary on the murder of United Healthcare (UHC) executive Brian Thompson?  Can the crime that launched 10,000 news articles and millions of social media posts be scrutinized in any fashion that hasn’t already been done by perhaps hundreds of others?  I ask because my perspective—which I’m certain is not completely unique—is one that I’ve not seen or read among the multitude of online reporting and musing on the subject.  You see, I was both employed by the health insurance industry and its victim, though not in that order.

For years I had the good fortune to have a job that provided fully employer-paid health insurance with a carrier that had a robust network of hospitals and other providers.  Coverage and in-network availability of care was never an issue.  But within a few months of leaving that employer I suffered a health episode that required an emergency room visit and follow-up procedure.  Without much thought I went to the nearest hospital, only to learn that it was out of network for my new insurance coverage.  Being in severe pain and in no state of mind to go looking for an in-network hospital (if there was even one in town, which I don’t think there was) I chose to continue treatment where I was.  The insurer paid a miniscule amount, and I ended up with a bill of several thousand dollars.  The insurer was UHC.

Interestingly, that underpaid claim years later entitled me to participate in a class-action lawsuit against UHC that netted me some money, but it was a small fraction of what I had to pay out of pocket.

Skip ahead ten years.  I accepted a job offer from a regional health plan (read: insurance company), working with the state’s Medicaid program.  If you’re not acquainted with that program, it is the state-paid health coverage for needy families.  One feature of that program is that participating providers cannot bill patients for services covered by Medicaid; they are wholly dependent on the insurance carriers for reimbursement for care rendered to Medicaid beneficiaries.  My role as a Provider Relations Representative was to assist providers in getting their claims paid.  And I was instrumental in recovering literally millions of dollars for the providers in my territory.  They only came to me when there was a claim problem to resolve—and I was constantly busy, so that should say something about the medical claims process.

Why were there so many claims problems?  I would chalk it up to

1)      The insanely complex process of coding claims, in which different insurance companies have different requirements in how to submit a claim for the identical service; even a single misplaced decimal in the procedure code can get the claim denied

2)      The correspondingly complex system of adjudicating those claims on the insurer’s side; not just any off-the-shelf software can handle the task adequately

3)      Deliberate efforts by insurance companies’ “cost containment” units to actively search for past supposed errors that their claims department had missed and then taking back from the providers the money paid in those claims; the most egregious example I encountered was a pediatric practice who had money deducted from their current claims’ payment for a 13-year-old error (You read that right: NOT an error on a 13-year-old’s medical claim but a claim that was itself 13 years old; I got their money back, in case you’re wondering)

4)      Insurance company incompetence.  Oh, ALL. THE. TIME.

 

But what about patients NOT enrolled in Medicaid who have their claims denied.  They ARE on the hook for the unpaid balance.  And they have no billing department, no denied claims appeal team to help them fight the denial.  They are pretty much on their own.  (I’ve addressed in previous posts how best to file an appeal in these cases.)

Can I say anything in defense of insurance companies?  Certainly.  Can you find anyone else who for a few thousand dollars a year would carry the risk you could become a million-dollar cost for them if you become very sick, as well as cover the many other routine costs of keeping you healthy?  Can you find anyone else that would take the risk your house could be lost to some unforeseen hazard and cost them hundreds of thousands of dollars to replace it for you? 

And of course no one would think of cheating the insurance company, right?  So do we really need the False Claims Act that Congress passed?  Or do the state police really need to run that ad on the radio offering rewards for those who turn in people committing insurance fraud?  The attitude of “They [the insurance companies] have plenty of money” is a dishonest excuse for a criminal act that hurts everyone.  Dishonesty in even a small matter is still dishonesty.   

We can lament the fact that for all our advanced care our health outcomes are not on par with other countries that spend much less on health care for their citizens, but there is no question we have top-tier medical technology and specialty care in the U.S.  But at what cost?  I came across a news item about a Reddit post sharing a picture of a hospital bill for the delivery of a baby in Kansas in December 1955.  The total for a three-day stay was under $60, including room & board and nursing service charges of $27.

So hospitals and doctors must be to blame for the hyper-inflationary price spiral that has driven up insurance costs.  Not so fast.  I’ve had occasion twice to be introduced socially to physicians.  When they ask me what I did before I retired, I’ll play coy and say that with their being a doctor I’m not sure I want to reveal what I used to do.  Both times their response was, “You must have been a lawyer.”

Medical professionals are wary of lawsuits and routinely practice defensive medicine, ordering tests and exams that are probably unnecessary, just to prevent someone suing them for negligence, for not foreseeing and eliminating every possible diagnosis—regardless of how unlikely it is.  And they have to pay for their health insurance like you do…AND liability insurance to protect against YOU suing them.    

So there’s plenty of blame to go around, as they say.  Is the American health care system broken?  Our opinions probably depend on our personal experience with providers and with health insurers.  But if we consider health care a right—and given that as a country we apparently do, at least for the poor, disabled, and elderly—entrusting it to marketplace forces, as we do for pricing commodities, doesn’t seem to be working.  What is the answer?

Until next time,

Roger

“Let the one among you who has never sinned throw the first stone.” John 8:7 Phillips

 

[Thank you to those who have viewed my blog and website from outside the United States.  I’m flattered to have an international readership!  I’ve left the Comments open for this post because if you are so inclined, I’d love to hear your perspective and your health care experience in your homeland and how it contrasts with the U.S.]