I can easily claim that I am luckier than many in Silicon Valley because I have a job—unemployment is hovering around 8.6 percent. And you might say my luck doubles because my employer provides health insurance—more than 6 million people in California are uninsured.
Going uninsured is something I understand firsthand. For several years my family was shelling out close to $900 a month to cover benefits, a costly expense, but necessary.
But as premiums continue to skyrocket, problems within the health-care system grow worse—insurers go out of business, doctors no longer contract with carriers, and insurance companies continue to dictate what type of care patients are permitted and the medicines they can take. It's this feeling of having no control or battling an uncontrollable monster that seems to have seeped down into the less critical levels of health coverage. And lately, I have become the beneficiary of some of these problems.
Throughout my life I have used the preferred provider option (PPO) because HMOs have always been notorious about controlling patient treatment and medicines. I wanted to choose my children's pediatrician and not have an insurance company tell me who my children should see. And I wanted to stay with the ob-gyn I'd known most of my adult life, not go to a stranger. But now I'm watching even the tried and true slowly erode.
During the past couple of years I have been receiving periodic information letters from my ob-gyn's office informing me that they are no longer accepting insurance with various carriers. Until this year my doctor accepted the insurance I had. But this year when I called to make an appointment the receptionist asked what carrier I had. I told her it was Blue Shield (there aren't a whole lot of choices left in California), and she informed me that the doctor doesn't contract with them anymore and that the visit would be applied toward my deductible. Then she mentioned that of course all the lab work would be covered. That is usually a meager $20 to $30.
OK, men, you may want to skip this part, but I thought, "How much can it possibly cost for an annual visit to the gynecologist?" It's a simple quick check and Pap smear. In fact, the entire exam is shorter than the drive and wait to be seen. So I asked the receptionist how much the visit would cost, and she said, rather nonchalantly, "$225." It took everything for me not to blurt out, "You have got to be kidding me."
As a result of my doctor cutting ties with my insurance carrier, I chose to push the appointment out because I didn't want to spend the money on taking care of myself.
Then a few days later my daughter, who has seasonal allergies, needed a refill on her prescription for Zyrtec. So I called it in to the pharmacy thinking they would simply refill it. But when I got there to pick it up I was told Blue Shield wants us to use Claritin, which had just been approved as an over-the-counter drug. I said that didn't work for her, but I was told I had to go back to my doctor for authorization or I could pay $75 for the Zyrtec out of my own pocket. I tried to be cajoling and asked if I could just have a couple until the authorization came through to tide my daughter over. They said sure, but three pills would cost $13.
The price seemed so ridiculous I left the pharmacy to call the doctor.
When I contacted the pediatrician's office they confirmed that my daughter had to at least try the Claritin again because it had been over a year since we had switched to Zyrtec. So I had to go out and spend $20 on Claritin, which only added to the already deep and bulging pockets of the pharmaceutical company, Schering-Plough, and a reduction in the out-of pocket expense for Blue Shield.
But even the doctor's office admitted it was stupid and said they were sorry for the inconvenience. Especially when I called a week later and told them it wasn't working—which we knew would be the case from the start—and asked if they could document the files and authorize the old medicine.
These are just two minor examples that illustrate the kind of health-care system that's befallen our country. And unless we start lobbying for control of our own well-being or elect people who can effect a change, insurance companies will continue to dictate and control. So for a moment, imagine the power 35 million people—California's population—could have if we all joined forces and started a campaign to reform health care. It might even spread to the East Coast.
Moryt Milo is the editor of The Willow Glen Resident. She can be contacted at 400.200.1051 or mmilo@svcn.com.
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