Dumbidity

The HIPAA Critic's Oaths

The golden rule of medical insurance claims: First, do no thing.

Insurance companies claim to dislike HIPAA (Health Insurance Payment Anti-Acceleration) because of all the bureaucratical red taping it demands, but we know better.

A case in point: my Large, Well-Known Medical Insurance Company has a claim pending since April of aught-three involving a routine medical matter for Gladys. Total charge: $86 (American). Our coverage was new and we didn't have the insurance card, so we paid the full amount and filed the claim shortly thereafter.

A number of moons go by...

I send in a photocopy with "SECOND REQUEST" on it.

A number of other moons go by and the claim has celebrated its first birthday, so I call up LWKMIC's Claim Persistance Line and - after some lovely taped ads for them, plus a disclaimer that my call may be recorded to be replayed in the supervisors' lounge as an employee benefit - get an American (in America) on the line...

INSURANCE CLAIM RESISTOR: Thankyouforcalling LargeWellKnownMedicalInsurancethisisJanehowmayIhelpyou.

sCHMED: This is Schmedulov Jostikovitch with group IMSOL calling in reference to a claim on my daughter, Gladys, in April of aught-three.

ICR: Mr. Jostikovitch, could you please verify the last four digits of your social?

sCHMED: (fighting back Pavlovian anger because the SSN is again being used for purposes beyond the Soshasecurity System) 1-2-3-4 (and I could probably put the real numbers in there because they aren't very hard to find).

ICR: What is your group number?

sCHMED: I-M-S-O-L.

ICR: Are you the patient?

sCHMED: No, it is my daughter, Gladys, D-O-B MM/DD/YYYY.

ICR: What is the date of the claim?

sCHMED: (Unable to refer the ICR several lines up where all this frustratingly repetitive information exchange was first presented...) Oh-four of Twenty-Aught-Three.

ICR: Just a moment while I retrieve your information.

ICR: Sir, is your daughter with you?

sCHMED: No.

ICR: I'm sorry, but I can't release any information about this claim to anyone but the Provider or the Patient.

sCHMED: I. Am. Her. Father. The responsible party... theguythatpaysthepremiums...

ICR: Yes, but Gladys is over eighteen.

sCHMED: She was seventeen at the time of the doctor visit, and would've been seventeen at the time the claim typically would've been paid...

ICR: Well, she's eighteen now. Is your daughter with you?

sCHMED: (looks around the office, just in case) Nnnnnnnnnnno.

ICR: Well, if she could give me permission, I could release information about the claim.

[A LARGE, 150w LIGHT BULB GOES ON ABOVE sCHMED'S HEAD WITH AN AUDIBLE 'TINK' SOUND]

sCHMED: Could I place you on hold while I get her?

ICR: (schmed puts her on hold before she can answer)

[schmed dials Gladys' cell...]

sCHMED: Gladys! Hey, y'got a minute to talk to the Insurance Lady with yer Old Man?

GLADYS: Um, sure.

[schmed hits "CONF" button]

sCHMED: Ma'am?

ICR: Yes?

sCHMED: I have Gladys on the phone with us and she'd like to know the status of the claim.

ICR: OK. Gladys, can you verify your date of birth?

GLADYS: MM/DD/YYYY.

ICR: OK, thank you. We requested a breakdown of the charges from the doctor and haven't received a response.

sCHMED: Um, when did this take place?

ICR: May bempty-blempth of 2003.

sCHMED: And you followed-up - when?

ICR: I can submit another request if you would like.

sCHMED: (in an eerily pleasant voice) Gladys and I would like that very much. She would also like some notification by mail of the status from time to time, wouldn't you Gladys?

Not that it matters, but the claim is still unresolved, so the Large, Well-Known Medical Insurance Company hasn't paid the Doctor $17.38, so the Doctor hasn't written off the $68.62 balance or remitted the original $86 to me Gladys.

I won't even try to get the Doctor's office to credit it against Guido's outstanding balance - I don't think I could refrain from speaking those oaths out loud.

Посещение От Камрада Ivan

(or, "A Visit From Comrade Ivan")*

This morning, grim preparations are being made throughout southeast Louisiana for the impending landfall of Ураган Ivan. Schools have been closed. Shortages are plentiful - scores of desperate shoppers had no choice but to purchase the cheaper brands of liquor, ice is becoming scarce and all the good nacho chips are sold out.

The newsbeings are doing their best to incite panic, probably with the intent of getting folks to batten down the hatches, grab the family bible and head north and/or west.

Like a fool, I drove down to New Orleans this morning as the traffic on I-10 "West" (Northwest actually) back toward Baton Rouge was heavy with campers, trailers, RVs and boats. One guy in a pickup was hauling a long camper, with a boat behind that. I'm stayin' here just long enough to grab up some stuff to keep me occupied.

They made some hopeful noises about the winds dropping from 160mph to 155. I'm not so sure that's not just because it expanded a little - it's already got hurricane-force out to over 100 miles (covering a 200+mile circle) and other nasty stuff covering a 300-400 mile traveling disaster area in the southern Gulf o' Mexico.

Ivan is fresh from his indoctrinal tour of western Cuba, having been fueled with a lot of Fidel's hot air. If the storm tracks as predicted - the latest Gallup Poll shows:

Mobile, AL - 32.8%

Pensacola, FL - 23.4%

Biloxi, MS - 20.2%

Tallahassee, FL - 12.3%

New Orleans, LA - 11.1%

Ralph Nader - 0.2%
...residents of New Orleans will have to worry about the counterclockwise circulation dumping Lake Pontchartrain over the south levee into the city. Folks in my neck of the woods will be more concerned with heavy rains, high winds - certainly tropical storm force and probably hurricane rated - and power outages.

My Dear Sweet Wife battled the mobs at Wal-sMart yesterday getting water, a battery or two, crunchy munchies and a bunch of canned stuff we can cook on the gas stove we have now because we didn't after Andrew in '92.

We also have about 10 pounds of cat litter and THIRTY pounds of cat food. I'm a little worried about the math on that - we may have to start using the food to fill the boxes.

I'm optimistic about what we'll face, but unless we can pray this one down like we did to Lili a couple of years ago, we're in for a bumpy ride. Lili was a category 4 just south of the Louisiana coast the night before she landed and came ashore as "just" a cat 1 - all dem Cat'lic Cajuns done roll' dey Ros'ries jus' right, cher. Lili still caused half a billion dollars in damages to property and crops but no direct fatalities.

You just know I'll have my beads out tonight.

Additional reports to follow as events warrant and conditions allow.

*Translation effected using Babelfish.

Great Moments in Telephone History

About a dozen years ago, voters in Louisiana approved state lottery legislation - again, after multiple prison-filling scandals at the turn of the 20th century. Two or three years later, I chanced to speak to a corporate official of the LA Lotto company.

This was back in the days where they would broadcast the Orb-Spewing Machinery actually spewing the holy numbered balls to be witnessed by the ministers and recorded by the scribes on live TV. They did this every Saturday night at 9:59 p.m. Central Standard or Daylight time.

One fateful weekend, one of the Orb-Spewing Machinery attendants failed to reset all the orbs after the obligatory, required-by-law, pre-drawing test procedures. As a result, the TV camera showed the lovely Lotto priestess activate the OSM, and as they zoomed in on the sacred repository chute to show the Official Looto Numbers, (dunn dunn dunn DAAAAAH!) there was a number already in it.

SCANDAL!

Well, not a scandal really, but a PR nightmare. The Looto officials had to declare the attempt at drawing the numbers void and had the Official Looto drawing a few minutes later. And while the Official Lotto drawing was properly witnessed and recorded, it was not on live TV.

As this LA Lottery Official related, their switchboards were lit up for days, and she told us of one conversation that really stood out:

Looto Customer Servarian: Loozyana Lot-toe. How may I help you?

Disgruntled Looto Victim: I want my money back for my ticket.

LCS: I'm sorry, but we cannot refund any ticket purchases after the drawing has taken place.

DLV: Well I paid this psychic, and she told me what the numbers would be at exactly 9:59 p.m. last Saturday, but y'all didn't hold the drawing at nine-fifty-nine, so my numbers didn't come up! And I want my money back!

LCS: As I said, we cannot refund any ticket purchases after...

DLV: BUT YOU DID IT AT THE WRONG TIME AND I WANT MY MONEY BACK!

LCS: Sounds to me like you ought to get your refund from the psychic - she should've known the drawing was gonna be late.

DLV: bluh...

I'd Like to Buy a Floral Arrangement

There is another jewel of Huey Long's patronage legacy being examined under the long loupe of the law. Back during his second stint as governor, Huey's brother Earl established certain licensing requirements that gave him a Horticulture Commission to which he could appoint his loyal supporters.

Since 1950, anyone wishing to arrange flowers for a living had to get a Florist's License from the State of Louisiana. Sounds simple enough, but oh, no - if you're going to be the only state of the several states to license florists, by dingies you better do it up in style!

First there's a simple matter of an application fee of $150 and a written test. A written test - that was liable to cull out a lot of people in 1950 and an inordinate number even today, although that isn't the Horticulture Commission's fault. But most folks interested enough in flowers and the tasteful arrangement thereof are probably sufficiently grounded in botany to pass the licensing exam.

Just to add to the third-world socialist governmental intrusion, the other critical requirement is to pass a practical exam which consists of creating four floral arrangements in as many hours. You'd think that ought to be fairly easy - and it's not like you're performing surgery, rebuilding a transmission or calibrating a pressure-relief valve - but you'd be soooooo very wrong. No, these arrangements have to be judged by licensed florists who might, just possibly, have an interest in limiting the number of licensed florists with which they have to compete in the marketplace.

The story you about to hear is true, the names have been changed and the dialogue Montypythonized for your entertainment.

(The story appearing in today's edition of Baton Rouge's Advocate is even truer, but it's not as funny. Seems the FLORISTS in question are filing a suit against the Horticulture Commission to repeal the licensing requirements.)

(To add to the embarrassment of our state, syndicated columnist Rich Lowry got ahold of the story, detailed the foolishness and noted the Pythonesque quality.)

What about the STORY schmed?

Right. Here goes...

[MAN enters a florist's and walks up to the counter]

FLORIST: Good morning! what can I do for you today?

MAN: I'd like to buy a floral arrangement.

FLORIST: Ahhhhh, an arrangement. I see...

MAN: Yes, something festive - you see, my mother-in-law is deathly ill in hospital and I thought flowers would be just the thing to, ahhh ...

FLORIST: [helpfully] To lift her spirits, sir?

MAN: Oh, no no no - she's comatose, no. I just thought they'd look nice in my office. I'm sort of in the mood for flowers today.

FLORIST: I see. [gesturing] Well then, please come along through here and I'll show you our flowers.

MAN: No need for that, I'm certain you can put something together that will be most satisfactory - I'm in too good of a mood to be particular.

FLORIST: [troubled] I'm afraid it's not quite that simple...

MAN: [sensing trouble] Not simple? Just put a few posies in a pot and I'll be on my way.

FLORIST: [resignedly] I can't. It's illegal.

MAN [incredulous] ILLEGAL? I'm not asking for opium poppies!

FLORIST: No not the flowers themselves - got lot's of them - it's the arranging. I can't get a license.

MAN: A LICENSE? For arranging flowers? Why in hell would you need a license?

FLORIST: Not in hell squire, but close - it's state law. Have to get one from the Horticulture Commission. I've paid the fee and passed the written test 6 times, but I can't get the judges to pass me on the practical exam.

MAN: Practical exam?

FLORIST: Yes - I'm given four hours to create four arrangements deemed suitable by the panel of licensed florists. Two of them practice licensed floristry here in town, and they've blackballed me six times straight.

MAN: So what do you do?

FLORIST: I sell flowers in bunches.

MAN: Well, isn't a bunch technically an arrangement?

FLORIST: Oh not at all - y'see, an arrangement is the mixing of different kinds of flowers.

MAN: Then what good is that? I've neither the skill nor the time to be picking my way past peonies and tweaking tulips 'round renegade roses - I need this done by a professional! Good day!

[departs]

FLORIST: Rot the Government!

Beating a Dead Horse to Death Until it's Dead, Part I

Every now and then, on occasion, I'll take the opportunity once and a while to point out examples of incidences which occur that indicate the demonstrations observed of recurring redundancies that people repeatedly perform over again. I call it "reduntantly beating a dead horse to death over and over again and again ad nauseum ad infinitum..."

Well, a tip o' the cap to Bruce from Bushtitdotcom for emailing an item in keeping with the spirit of redundance that I would like to share after letting it be known that Bruce from Bushtitdotcom emailed it to me so I could share it because it is in keeping with the spirit of redundancy which I will occasionally, once and a while, take the opportunity now and then to point out some incidental examples indicating the occurrence of repeated demonstrations as examples of people's redundancies that they do over and over redundantly, and it's all thanks to Bruce from Bushtitdotcom's timely email about it which he emailed to me via email, so props to him.

So without further ado, I will now share the content of the email that was emailed to me satirically illustrating the frustratingly aggravating redundancies repeatedly demonstrated on a recurring basis by a certain state, local or federal governmink:

(Following the dashed line of dashes that follows is the content of the email emailed to me by Bruce from Bushtitdotcom about...

[SLAP!]

OW! Ok, enough already.

--------------------------------------------------

Tribal wisdom of the Dakota Indians says, "When you discover you're riding a dead horse, the best strategy is to dismount."

However, in government more advanced strategies are often employed, such as:

1. 1. Buying a stronger whip.
   
2. 2. Changing riders.
   
3. 3. Appointing a committee to study the horse.
   
4. 4.Visiting other cultures to observe how they ride horses.
   
5. 5. Lowering the standards so that dead horses can be included.
   
6. 6. Reclassifying the dead horse as, "living impaired."
   
7. 7. Hiring an outside contractor to ride the horse.
   
8. 8. Harnessing several dead horses together to increase speed.
   
9. 9. Providing additional training to the dead horse.
   
10. 10. Commissioning a productivity study to see if lighter riders might increase the dead horses performance.
    
11. 11. Declaring that the dead horse is more efficient because it does not require food.
    
12. 12. Rewriting the performance specs for all horses.
    
13. 13. Promoting the dead horse to a supervisory position
    

And special thanks go to Bruce from Bushtitdotcom for emailing the very funny email that is, as you can see, not only hilarious, but suitable for emailing to your local, state or federal governmink representative as a funny email pointing out the futility of governminkal redundancies that they repeatedly do over and over again on a recurring basis.

NEW KITTY!

Back in May, one of our beloved kitties ran off with the milkman.

(And a great melancholia fell upon the Jostikovitch abode.)

Every effort was made to find out where she went or what became of her, to no avail.

(And the melancholia darkened, became a sense of loss and commiserant grief.)

Some months have elapsed, and LO! A young kitten enters the household!

(And there was much rejoicing - except amongst the other cats who perceived competition for attention, food, access to prime flowerbeddage, etc.)

She is suitably cute, curious and cunning and has quite naturally assumed Alpha Female status among the cats (by default - the others are neutless males). That is not to say that Crabby, the Furry Four-legged Crab hasn't howled and hissed at her simply for existing nor that Psumo the Psychotic hasn't popped her back into Tuesday a couple of times for getting a little too personal. Big-Foot, brother of the cat-gone-missing, is younger and significantly more tolerant, but his basic cattitude is to ignore her.

When she gets a little bigger, I suspect she'll press the advantage and pick up bathing his ears and biting him on the backside where his sister left off.