I have always had the luxury of never having to bother with finding my own medical insurance. It always came along with the job I had. My husband, being an independant contractor, has benefits offered to him with whatever company he is working with at the moment, but it is never long term enough to commit to. We always just went with whatever my job had. Now, with losing my job, we have had to ride the wave of finding independant family coverage.
I am about to rip my eyes out of their sockets and shit down my own skull.
Do these insurance companies do this on purpose? Do they provide you with the most frustrating questions they can possibly ask you just so you say 'oh, fuck it' and shut down your browser? These bitches don't know me. I am a very determined little wench and I am stubborn as all hell. Oh, I will walk through the barbed wire of your questionaires, Fuckers. I don't scare easily. Bring it on.
I manuevered like a champ through it, once.
By the third quote, I was ready to hurl my monitor through the wall and murder three out of the four members of my family just to cut down on the application process. Never so much have I wanted to jab myself in the eye repeatedly with a number 2 pencil. Let me give you just a smidge of the stupidity that is Blue Cross/Blue Shield, United Healthcare and Humana.
Let's start with Blue Cross/Blue Shield who boast the slogan: "What Can Blue Do For You?"
You know what you can do for me, Fuckers? You can reduce your application process from 700 questions to maybe 100. You want to pay for my inevitable carpal tunnel syndrome? If I wasn't sick before this application, I sure as fuck am now. Oh, and I love this question:
"Do you anticipate seeing a doctor in the next 10 years and if so, for what reason?"
Nope. Absolutely not. I don't ever anticipate being sick again. I don't think I will ever need to. Come to think of it, why am I even applying for your insurance? But, if I do ever get sick again, I think it will be with Malaysian Infiltrating Bird Sinusitis Erectus. No, that disease doesn't exist, but since you are asking me to predetermine what I may have in 10 years from now, this is just as good of a disease as any, don't you think? Did I mention I am a psychic? Does that get me a discounted rate?
Let's move onto United Healthcare who assure me that they are committed to my needs. Um, if you are so committed to my needs, why are you asking things that are making my brain bleed? Do you want the first thing you pay for to be my hemorrhaging aneurysm? Since you caused it, I think it should be a freebie.
Why in Gawd's good name would you be asking me what date I became an American citizen? How does AT BIRTH sound to you? You asked me, in the question just prior to that one, if I have EVER been out of the country. I said, NO, NEVER. In the next breath, you ask me when I became an American citizen. Do you not see how illogical this is? How about, if you answered NO to question 15, please skip question 16. That would be such a kind and loving gesture.
But, let's move on to Humana, shall we? Humana, who states they offer "Guidance, right when you need it". Really, ass-eaters? Then why is it that NONE OF YOU ANSWER A DAMN PHONE? I have questions! I have concerns! I have foam in the corners of my mouth! If the lack of customer service is any indication of how things are going to be once I am accepted, then count me out. Further, how the holy hell can you ask me to make my first premium payment for something you haven't even approved me for yet? Hi, pay us today and we'll determine whether we want to insure you or not. Sure, we know you just lost your job, but hell, we don't give a rats ass. Just send us your money and we will hold it during the seven week determination process, collect interest on it, while you stand online at the welfare office, waiting for a check and some medicaid. Sound good?
NO, Fuckers. It sounds FAR from good. I hung up on your outsourcing asses after pressing "1" for a representative about 14,000 times. You will not be receiving my business and fuck you very much for the "guidance" when I needed it.
These insurance companies know exactly what they are doing. I think I figured it out. What they do is cause you to have carpal tunnel, stress induced anxiety, strokes, heart failure, seizures and finally, a full fledged mental breakdown.
Then, they get to tell you that they will be happy to cover you, however, they will not cover all the aforementioned ailments, because they are now pre-existing conditions.
I obviously entered the wrong line of work.
ATTENTION WHORE EDIT: Okay, two things. Number one, I am now in first place at 25Peeps.com. This cracks my ass up. Do we really need a fat girl wearing black underwear in a leg cast with a cane and a dachshund to say, "Hey! We are tired of the standard fetish porn. Give us something new and refreshing!" So, while I was a reluctant victim in the beginning, I am now totally psyched to trounce some sub-par ass! Everytime you click me, an angel has an orgasm. Remember that. Now, second thing, speaking of whoring out...I implore of all of you to click on HDW at Green Apple Martini to give her love for the 2006 Weblog Award for Best Diarist. I have three reasons for this. First and foremost, she's a great read and a friend. That should be enough to send you mad dashing over there to give her a few clicks. But, if you are a hard sell, let me appeal to your morals and values. She is running against Dooce, who as we all know has been there/done that and frankly, her story about being fired for blogging was so 2005 already. We all know that Mr. Fab is the new Dooce. His story is far better anyway. She is also running against a diarist named Ravmi. Now, the only reason that Ravmi is getting any play whatsoever is because she included the letters NSFW in her title. Unlike me, she has reduced herself to the occasional shot of her very acorn looking nipples. She doesn't have the skills it takes to rock the leg cast vote, obviously. But, right away, people see NSFW and say, Wow! She's the best writer EVER! No. She isn't. As a matter of fact, I have seen post lobotomy patients write more coherently than this chick. Which is why you should go vote for HDW at Green Apple Martini. I am the Certifiable Princess...and I have approved this message. What I have NOT approved, however, is the disgusting FILTH that Mr. Fab put on my voice recording machine (see sidebar on the right). He has propositioned my hotband and seduced him with the promise of licking mayonaise off his hard man body. Please press the play button to get in on the hot man love. I'm gonna rock the good lovin' from the hotband later, while he screams out Fab's name. It's all good. Any love is good love.
Why are you still here. Go vote here and here! Now! Shoo! Go.
Sheesh. The shit I have to do to pimp a bitch.