I need a therapist so I can deal with paying for therapy . . .

After – no joke – 16 calls over the course of 365 days to my behavioral health insurance company, I’ve come to the conclusion that I need a therapist to deal with the issues that arise when paying for therapy.  It’s a pretty ingenious system, really. If the insurance company patently denies every claim that comes through, they can weed out the people that just have run-of-the-mill depression – many of whom won’t bother calling the insurance company to dispute the charge.

Those that do call can expect to spend at least one hour on the phone, 40 minutes of which will be spent reciting one’s name, date of birth, and member ID number, only to be transferred to the ‘correct’ department and repeat the process.  Nobody wants to wait on hold that long, particularly not depressed people who are dealing with an inherent lack of motivation – so they figure a good percentage of people will give up at that point.

Those of us delusional enough (or poor enough – as is my case) to stay on the phone and talk to “Claims”, “Benefits”, “Care Advocates”, “Rapid Resolution”, and “The Ministry of Magic – Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes”, will finally get the issue resolved, and will only need to spend one session of therapy dealing with the pesky issue of paying for therapy.

Alas, the “resolved” claim will come through, still denying certain charges because they were performed when Jupiter aligned with Mars, and obviously, everyone is happy during that time period. The proud and resilient few who push on and call back, spending yet another hour on the phone, will be told by no less than four people that their benefits only allow for certain coverage, and the exception made by the previous “advocate” was on April Fools Day, and thus, not legitimate. Armed with confirmation numbers and authorization numbers, these warriors will press on until every supervisor has been called upon and, finally, someone looks at the claim and says, “Oh yeah, they thought you were an alien (extra-terrestrial), and that species isn’t covered. Let me fix that.” My guess is that this is an extra test, much like when you are asked if you know what day it is and can correctly identify a pen.

Finally, twelve years later, your provider might actually be reimbursed for the services they provided. If you’re really smart, though, you’ll figure out that it’s easier to bury the worry and anxiety and merely get Botox to hide the resulting wrinkles. Botox, by the way, is covered by most insurance plans. Just a heads up.

Yours in mental anguish,

Becca