Resources / Ripples & Wipeouts

That’s what it feels like to leave the realm of premium health insurance.  Please don’t get me wrong, I am incredibly grateful to have any insurance.  All I’m saying is that there is a period of adjustment.

It first hit me with the incredible amount of documentation required.  For the kids, I needed a Social Security card, birth certificate and another piece of identification from an official source, such as the state or federal government.  I was in possession of one kid’s passport; the other kid has hers on her to use as “official” identification while she is away at college.  The discussion that ensued after that revelation was priceless. 

Insurance Agent: “Okay, if you don’t have a passport, do you have any school ID?”
Me: If I don’t have her passport because she has it, why would I have her school ID? 
Insurance Agent: “Oh, right, so when will she be home from school?”
Me: In April, when she’s on spring break and I need insurance now.  (This was in February.)

Fortunately for me, my husband was with me.  He didn’t scream when I pinched him in order for me to stay calm.  The issue was finally resolved when I called my daughter and had her take her passport to the bursar’s office and have them fax a copy of it along with a form letter confirming that she was a full-time student.  Whew, next!

I won’t go into the fact that more than two weeks later, the paperwork still had not been processed.  So I prayed every night that neither kid would break a leg or develop some other symptom requiring immediate medical attention.  Suffice to say my husband and I are, as are many Americans, on a really, really, tight budget.  When my daughter called to say that she experienced that cramping in her stomach again for a second day, I quickly dispatched her to the school store for antacids.  (Please let her not need an x-ray!)

My next dose of reality was in the task of finding doctors.  I thought to myself: “Oh yeah, time for my annual PAP smear”.  I called my ob/gyn’s office and identified myself.  The next question was, “Do you still have XYZ insurance?” My reply, “Oh no, I will be covered by ABC insurance.” “Sorry, the doctor doesn’t accept that.” Neither, I found, did our pediatrician.  So I went on the website and searched for new providers. 

It intrigued me that I had no problem finding a “behavioral health/social worker” or “psychiatrist.” It was not as easy finding a pediatrician or an ob/gyn.  As I shared this revelation with my husband, I realized how important it will be to have access to behavioral health specialists in the months and years ahead, when we are driven crazy over the health insurance hassle.  We both realized then that our health system had better get ready for the onslaught of cases of PTSD civilian-style.  Because of the economic downturn, millions of people are losing their jobs, homes, savings, and the lifestyle to which they were accustomed.  The anxiety and stress from that is not yet fully known.  However, given this country’s disastrous response to PTSD in veterans, the probable consequences are daunting.  Only recently, New York State passed a law to give mental health coverage parity with physical health coverage.  Now more than ever, we need to make sure that people have access to, and coverage for, mental health providers. 

I will more than likely need to endure a few more days of hand wringing as I try to solve the maze that is our new insurance carrier.  But as I said at the beginning, I’m grateful to have it – when I finally get it.

--Joan Grangenois-Thomas