Friday, February 4, 2011

An Open Letter (8)

Dear Aetna,

I clearly shouldn't have believed you when you said I didn't have to pay you any more money until March. But of course I didn't realize my foolishness until, on the last day of January, my pharmacy said you wouldn't pay for anything. You had your money by Tuesday. But could the pharmacy get any money out of you Wednesday? You're joking, right? Thursday? Still no dice.

Friday a young woman on your payroll - who was actually quite pleasant - confirmed that you had indeed received my money and you were indeed prepared to pay out on my behalf. And yet a few hours later the pharmacy still was unable to get you to fork over. Even after the very nice pharmacist (a rarity these days, but that's another rant) called you and confirmed that yes, you had my money, and you acknowledged willingness to pay for my medical treatments. But not to the pharmacy. Because apparently while every other computer system on the entire planet (with the possible exception of Egypt, currently) can transfer information between machines in seconds or minutes, yours take more than 72 hours to get data from one place to another.

So well done, Aetna: you've managed to find the only computers on the planet that are actually slower than the Pony Express. And if I'm lucky I'll get my prescription in three more days, because God forbid anyone in medical insurance work on the weekend. Oh wait... that would imply that they work at all.

Die and rot in hell.
Yours truly

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Sometimes I Hate Winter

OK, ice storms make the trees look pretty. But everything else about them pretty much sucks. They cause damage, they make people fall and hurt themselves, and they get you up early in the morning just so you can spend that many extra hours stressing out about the appointments you can't get to. And wondering how it is that other people got out of their driveways so easily. And wishing you lived someplace where ice is known only as what clinks in your glass. Or that you at least had chains on your tires. Or maybe one of those ridiculous driveways with heating elements built into it so you could just switch in on when you woke up and by the time you had gotten dressed and eaten breakfast you'd have nothing but a little slush to clear away.

And really all I want to do - all I have wanted to do for about three days - is make hot, buttered popcorn and watch Beauty and the Beast on VHS. Yes, really.