I knew when I woke up yesterday what I faced. I at least had the benefit of advanced warning. It was going to be a day which featured lots of interaction with paperwork problems. In my profession this means that I must speak on the telephone with anonymous functionaries in far off offices in other time zones. In those conversations I must explain myself to a series of 21-30 year olds with a scant understanding of what exactly it is that I do for a living. A day of such interaction has been known to produce the absolute worst in my character. To that end, my wise and faithful assistant, Kristin, gave me the following speech just before I entered the gauntlet:
“...Ok, please remember that it’s not their fault. They are just doing their jobs. Be nice. Stay calm. Don’t roll your eyes. Behave yourself.”
Ok, she said some of those words. The others she clearly implied!
So with the nervous Kristin listening in from down the hall, I began. I will sum up the gist of what these conversations were like below...
Kyle: Yes, Mr. Doonevant, thanks so much for calling. So, I have some questions about a few items on the case you submitted on Mister Goldblatt.
Me: Fire away.
Kyle: On page 6, section two of the VAD form you listed the client’s NIA at $1,050,000. By my calculations, it would seem that the actual number is closer to $1,100,000.
Me:..........
Kyle: So, which one of us is right?
Me: Depends on which one of us is better with a calculator.
Kyle: (hysterical laughter)
Me:.......
There were many times during the ensuing conversation with Kyle and the subsequent conversation with Graham—another beauty— where my patience was tested. But each time, I girded my loins and stifled my inner snark. Kristin was quite impressed and very proud of me.
But, here’s the thing. Whenever I stifle my natural gift for smart-ass repartee, whenever I swallow hard and play it straight...pressure begins to build in my head. I know that it is just a matter of time before something will trigger a full blown snark explosion. The longer it builds up, the worse the explosion will be. I am not proud of this particular character trait, but I’ve lived long enough to know that this isn’t a bug in my personality, it’s a feature. Sure enough, later on in the day...it happened.
I use a CPAP machine because I was diagnosed six years ago with sleep apnea. Occasionally, I must buy supplies for my machine like masks, replacement hoses, filters and whatnot. They aren’t terribly expensive but they are notoriously troublesome to purchase. It’s all done over the phone with some outfit in Texas or some such place. So, I ordered replacement parts in October of 2019. Right after Christmas, 9 weeks after my purchase, I received a call from the CPAP supply company informing me that my order could not be processed for some indecipherable reason. Then two weeks ago I received a second call asking for a sim card from my machine before they could process my order. When I replied that my machine had no such sin card, I was instructed to call back when I was at home with my machine so they could instruct me how to get the required data from the readout of the machine. Yesterday afternoon, I made the call. Of course, the information and instructions I was given before were no longer actionable. Once again...Tanya...informed me that they needed proof that I was actually using my machine before they could process my order through the insurance company. This last tidbit of information sent me over the edge...
Me: Tanya, is it?
Tanya: Yes.
Me: Tanya, let me ask you something. Why would I be ordering a new mask, new tubing and new filters from your company if I wasn’t using the machine?? Clearly, I am trying to buy your products because I have worn them out by...using them.
Tanya: Yes but...the insurance company requires proof and that means we need that SIM card readout.
Me: Why do they need proof, Tanya? These are not opioids we’re talking about. There is no chance I will become addicted to this CPAP machine and then run around trying to get my friends and neighbors hooked! All I want is a new mask!
Tanya: But the insurance...
Me: Tanya. Screw the insurance company. Why can’t I just buy these myself. I’ll give you my credit card number and we can just bypass the insurance company altogether. In fact I’ll double my order so we won’t have to go through this for a couple more years.
Tanya: Well, I suppose we might be able to do that...but you’ll have to call the factory direct. I’ll give you the number just in case we get separated.
Tanya then hooks me up with the factory where I get placed on hold for twenty two minutes when suddenly I heard an ominous click, and then the line went dead. My thirty seven minute experience with the CPAP supply company was now at an end.
And after all that you people expect me to watch the State of the Union Show? Not a chance.
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