The INSANITY!

Have you ever TRIED so spend a couple hours at a time on the phone with an insurance company with your just-turned-four-year-old and 20-month old in tow? And have you ever tried to repeat these conversations with the same insurance company at least a half a dozen times for an hour or more at a time with the same wee ones in tow? And have you ever noticed just how STUPID a person has to be to meet the minimum qualifications for a customer service representative position in the benefits eligibility or claims processing department at one of these insurance companies?

I have filed the claims. I have waited for months. I have followed up with multiple inquiries as to why they cannot seem to get their heads out of the holes they poo with in order to process the claims. I have answered their stupid mail requests seeking the SAME INFORMATION I have already resubmitted TWICE that was already provided in the first place on the requisite HCFA form! Tomorrow I will be making YET ANOTHER phone call to some imbecile who barely meets minimum intellectual qualifications to pick their own nose in order find out why they have sent me YET ANOTHER request for the information that I have already faxed and mailed and faxed AGAIN (because they lost it that time) and sent in the form of a special letter in reply to their LAST mailing that was asking for THE SAME information.

I just don't think I can continue to beat my own head against this brick wall anymore, and therefore I am planning a trip to Utah to visit the entire crew of fools in person so that I can beat THEIR heads against the wall followed by STAPLING their stupid requests to some sorry fool's forehead.

THIS, my friends, is why medical professionals pay a billing agent a percentage of recovered funds to handle the insanity of it all.

By the time I'm done with all this, I am most certainly going to need a therapist of my own. Any recommendations?

Car Seat Tutorial

Here's what you do when your three-year-old pukes in the car. Or at least, this is what we did.

1. Hold your breath while you hose down the kid
2. Unbuckle the car seat from the car while being very careful not to spill puke everywhere
3. Be very thankful that you used a seat protector with raised edges before installing car seat. This way you can dump most of the puke out of it and escape having to clean the car's upholstery
3. Gag and wretch and try not to puke all over the car seat that is already covered in puke
4. Remind yourself to hold your breath
5. Size up the situation and realize you have absolutely no clue how to disassemble a puke covered car seat
6. Search for the instruction manual
7. Read the directions for dissembling seat for cleaning while mumbling "Duh?" and "Huh?" intermittently
8. Consider just throwing the whole puke covered mess away and going shopping instead
9. Read the directions three more times while scratching your head and mumbling expletives
10. Get up the nerve to attempt step one
11. Realize that five more readings of the instructions does not make any clearer where the heck "Button A" and "Slot B" are and that even standing on your head and blinking your eyes rapidly at the diagrams does not make them look like anything recognizable
12. Curse your master's degree for not teaching you important things like this
13. Consider reading the directions in French in case they make more sense
14. Continue gagging and cussing while fumbling through an amazing mess of straps and buckles and cushions while trying desperately not to get any offensive smelling matter on your hands
15. After an hour passes, give up on trying to keep your hands free of puke because you realize it's already up to your elbows and how in the heck did it get behind your left ear, anyway?

Fortunately, Daughter wasn't really "sick." She apparently got car sick riding with Husband home from Grandpa and Grandma's house. As much as the aftermath of the puke event elicited from me horror and disdain and a strange tic that looked a lot like uncontrollable gagging motions, I couldn't blame her. I get car sick riding with Husband as well.

This morning all the parts appeared dry after their trip through the washing machine, and they all passed the sniff test (I have a nose that is at least one thousand times more sensitive than a blood hound's). I parked the kids in front of Sesame Street and took on the daunting task of putting the car seat back together. As expected, I had no clue where to start, but I eventually managed to figure it out. Sort of. For those of you who would like some tips, here is how I did it:

1. Pick up a strap and study it intently while glancing back and forth from strap to seat
2. Scratch your head (this always seems to help)
3. Attempt to stick one end of a strap in a random slot (who the heck cares if it's "Slot A" or "Slot B") ...maybe you'll get lucky
4. Realize that you are not only apparently stupid, but also not lucky
5. Consider reading the French directions again
6. Call your husband at work. Maybe he has some sort of knowledge that surpasses your own. Surely those higher testosterone levels are good for SOMETHING
7. Interrogate your husband about where he hid the parts that appear to be missing from the whole mess
8. Don't believe your husband when he assures you no parts are missing
9. Accept his advice to examine the duplicate seat in the other vehicle
10. Wander out to the family mobile and back in the house multiple times to "examine" the problem
11. Consider taking the duplicate car seat out of the family mobile so that you can compare it to the disassembled version
12. Remind yourself of the hellish experience of simply buckling said car seat snugly back into the family mobile once it has been removed
13. Decide you don't need any more headaches.
14. Try reading the Spanish version of the directions. After all, you know a few Spanish words, like "gato" and "muy bien"
15. Realize that telling your cat that he is doing a good job isn't going to help...especially when your cat is dead
16. An hour later, when Sesame Street is just ending, realize that you've done the best you can, and assure yourself that the finished product at least resembles its original appearance, and therefore will just have to work.

I hope this little tutorial was helpful for someone, because God knows I could have used one last night and this morning!

From The Stupid File #1

As I have previously noted, I do a fair amount of work-related duties from my home. The other day one of these duties required me to track down a live and helpful person in the Medicaid provider billing support office to explain to me why three of my recently billed claims were mysteriously denied, and why one of the claims was "suspended." It took me a good 15 minutes of relentless calling to get past a busy signal and get a live person. This person was neither pleasant nor rude, and slightly more than marginally helpful. You never know what you're gonna get when you call this line for help. I got a couple of my questions minimally answered (with the government you really don't ever get satsifactory or complete answers) and had asked another question when I was abruptly cut off and told that I had reached my three question quota and if I wanted to ask any more questions I would have to call back. I think my response was something like a long pause followed by, "Huh?" which I'm sure sounded a lot like, "Duh?" I was in complete disbelief and didn't know how to respond.

I hung up the phone dumbfounded. I finally get through to ask my questions and then I'm told I've reached my quota and have to call back? I swore if I called right back and reached the same woman I would have to exercise great restraint not to verbally strangle her over the phone.

It was the stupidest thing I had encountered for at least a good week. So stupid, in fact, that I decided then and there that I had to start blogging a "stupid file."