So, my state offers something called BadgerCare Plus to all individuals below the poverty line. I would be one of those individuals, and being one of those individuals I spent some time quite a while ago typing and clicking my way through the application process. I was told that I met all of the requirements for this comprehensive, low- to no-cost health care plan. Naturally, being "poor" and without good health insurance, I was excited to be included in something such as BaderCare.
Then came the "however".
There is always a "however", a rat-like and stinking "however" that likes to rain on my glittery parade.
This "however" came in the simple question resembling something along the lines of, "Do you receive/are you offered health insurance through work?"
I had to click "Yes".
Next festering, pustule question which looked something like, "Have you enrolled?"
Here I told a little white lie. I said "No" when I had enrolled - though, technically, I had no idea if I was yet covered because no deductions for this health insurance had ever been taken out of my paycheck and I hadn't even received my booklet and health insurance card at the time. I also planned on dropping the coverage, assuming I had it, because -
"D.) The coverage was weak, lousy, not worth the time and money put into it and nothing like I wanted or needed" (I expand a wee bit on the true option D).
So, of course, when I get to the end of the application I find that because my workplace offers "health insurance" (a joke, really) I am not eligible for this nice BadgerCare Plus - a plan that would have covered my $600 mole-removal bill (for a mole that was less than one centimeter) and/or my $800 "complete bony" lower wisdom teeth extraction (though the lovely people at Drs. Hawkins, Gingrass and Miller are being very kind and holding the bill for me ($200 after my through-work dental insurance (which is good, by the way) covered what they saw fit).
All of this would have been fine if I hadn't come to work yesterday and learned that the insurance bill had finally shown up in the mailbox.
There are four of us on the plan, at least to my knowledge. Four people who owe $154 a piece (for our resident married couple that's $308) - or $77 a month for our "covered" months, or $19.25 a week. Now, $19.25 is more than twice what we were quoted when the dastardly scheming barker sat us down in a private room and explained all of the "wonderful" benefits to the plan.
Keep in mind that I am below the poverty level of my state. Keep in mind that the $154 dues the insurance company wanted taken out of this week's paycheck (as in Friday 31 July, 2009) is more than half of my paycheck.
Keep in mind that $19.25 is not the "around $9" we were told by this dastardly scheming barker working for a health insurance company quite obviously run by vampires. $19.25 a week is much more than I expected to pay for a health plan that covers nothing. It does not cover the emergency room, so if your arm was mauled off by a rather perturbed squirrel and you had to bleed all over the ER - you would not see a dime to help you with that cost. Sure, you'd get $100 a day for your hospital stay and $55 for the subsequent visits to the doctor's office and a piddly amount toward preventative care. You'd also see your generic prescriptions covered, but - oh, that's right - one of my co-workers found that this wasn't true at all.
We all banded together when Desert Storm (who will now be going to the VA from now on) recounted his harrowing story of going to the doctor's for a serious case of vertigo, getting a generic prescription from his doctor, running over to the pharmacy and being told by the pharmacist that his insurance card, in this case, was not worth the plastic it was made of.
We all banded together as one and dropped our health insurance plan.
I feel sort of bad for our chain of bosses. After all, our GM went through all that trouble of trying to convince the board to give we employees some sort of health insurance and when we finally do get a plan (in June) - it's worthless.
I bet those people at the insurance company would sit in their cubicles and titter at us.
Well, I say to you, who's tittering now?
If there's a bright side to all of this, it's that - referring back to my earlier spiel about BadgerCare Plus - while I can't get BadgerCare Plus I am eligible for the Family Planning Waiver Plan. Also, maybe now that we've all dropped out of the work offered health insurance plan, work will forgo that plan and go after a better plan. That or I could get into the state offered health insurance.
I leave you with a picture that makes me happy when I am, in this case, vexed.
Then came the "however".
There is always a "however", a rat-like and stinking "however" that likes to rain on my glittery parade.
This "however" came in the simple question resembling something along the lines of, "Do you receive/are you offered health insurance through work?"
I had to click "Yes".
Next festering, pustule question which looked something like, "Have you enrolled?"
Here I told a little white lie. I said "No" when I had enrolled - though, technically, I had no idea if I was yet covered because no deductions for this health insurance had ever been taken out of my paycheck and I hadn't even received my booklet and health insurance card at the time. I also planned on dropping the coverage, assuming I had it, because -
"D.) The coverage was weak, lousy, not worth the time and money put into it and nothing like I wanted or needed" (I expand a wee bit on the true option D).
So, of course, when I get to the end of the application I find that because my workplace offers "health insurance" (a joke, really) I am not eligible for this nice BadgerCare Plus - a plan that would have covered my $600 mole-removal bill (for a mole that was less than one centimeter) and/or my $800 "complete bony" lower wisdom teeth extraction (though the lovely people at Drs. Hawkins, Gingrass and Miller are being very kind and holding the bill for me ($200 after my through-work dental insurance (which is good, by the way) covered what they saw fit).
All of this would have been fine if I hadn't come to work yesterday and learned that the insurance bill had finally shown up in the mailbox.
There are four of us on the plan, at least to my knowledge. Four people who owe $154 a piece (for our resident married couple that's $308) - or $77 a month for our "covered" months, or $19.25 a week. Now, $19.25 is more than twice what we were quoted when the dastardly scheming barker sat us down in a private room and explained all of the "wonderful" benefits to the plan.
Keep in mind that I am below the poverty level of my state. Keep in mind that the $154 dues the insurance company wanted taken out of this week's paycheck (as in Friday 31 July, 2009) is more than half of my paycheck.
Keep in mind that $19.25 is not the "around $9" we were told by this dastardly scheming barker working for a health insurance company quite obviously run by vampires. $19.25 a week is much more than I expected to pay for a health plan that covers nothing. It does not cover the emergency room, so if your arm was mauled off by a rather perturbed squirrel and you had to bleed all over the ER - you would not see a dime to help you with that cost. Sure, you'd get $100 a day for your hospital stay and $55 for the subsequent visits to the doctor's office and a piddly amount toward preventative care. You'd also see your generic prescriptions covered, but - oh, that's right - one of my co-workers found that this wasn't true at all.
We all banded together when Desert Storm (who will now be going to the VA from now on) recounted his harrowing story of going to the doctor's for a serious case of vertigo, getting a generic prescription from his doctor, running over to the pharmacy and being told by the pharmacist that his insurance card, in this case, was not worth the plastic it was made of.
We all banded together as one and dropped our health insurance plan.
I feel sort of bad for our chain of bosses. After all, our GM went through all that trouble of trying to convince the board to give we employees some sort of health insurance and when we finally do get a plan (in June) - it's worthless.
I bet those people at the insurance company would sit in their cubicles and titter at us.
Well, I say to you, who's tittering now?
If there's a bright side to all of this, it's that - referring back to my earlier spiel about BadgerCare Plus - while I can't get BadgerCare Plus I am eligible for the Family Planning Waiver Plan. Also, maybe now that we've all dropped out of the work offered health insurance plan, work will forgo that plan and go after a better plan. That or I could get into the state offered health insurance.
I leave you with a picture that makes me happy when I am, in this case, vexed.
(Michael Palin, one of the great and mighty Pythons, in an autographed photo sent to me after I wrote him a letter. It's sort of blurred and the quality isn't that great, but you get the idea)
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