The other day I got a letter from Blue Medicare Rx, my dad's prescription plan, saying that Medicare had informed them of his demise, expressing condolences, saying that his plan was thus cancelled as of 7/31, and saying they would issue a refund check if he had one coming. Oh, how convenient, I thought. I don't need to call them to cancel. And I figured a letter from Medex, his Medicare supplement, would be forthcoming too. When I didn't get one, I figured I would call them today and make sure it was cancelled. Well, no, Medicare hadn't informed them he was dead, which...why? Why would the prescription plan know and not the health insurance? Anyway, the very nice lady I spoke with took care of it, cancelled it to 7/18, the day after his death, and said they would refund a prorated amount for the rest of the month. Wasn't expecting that. I figured if you paid the month and didn't use the rest of the month, too bad for you. I guess the evil health insurance companies are not TOTALLY evil. Also? The very first thing the nice lady did when I told her why I was calling was offer her condolences, and she did so again at the end of the call.
Let's contrast this with the phone call to my dad's pension plan. The first thing the young man who finally took my call did was ask to speak to him. I explained that was not possible because, y'know, he was dead. This flustered the gentleman, but he pulled himself together and started taking the info from me. He did not say, "oh, I'm sorry to hear that," but then, he was flustered. After taking all the information from me, he said that someone from "life events" would be calling me within 48 hours. I tried to ask whether they were going to need me to mail the death certificate or whether cancelling the pension could be done all over the phone, and whether I could just shred the check they just mailed him for August or whether they would need it back. He very politely told me he had no idea because he never worked in "life events". Fair enough. He just answers the phone and keys stuff into the computer, he doesn't know nothing about nothing. No problem. He ends the call by wishing me a nice day.
Can we compare customer service training here? I'm assuming that both the nice lady and the flustered gentleman are young people, probably fresh out of college or something, because who else staffs help lines, for the most part? I'm also assuming they make shit for money, which is why I was not surprised the flustered gentleman has no idea what happens in other departments. It's not his job to actually know anything; someone who knows something would need to be compensated for such. But do you not think that it would be basic customer service training to emphasize that when a customer (or customer representative) calls to report a death, the proper response is, "oh, I'm so sorry." You don't have to *be* sorry--it's a figure of speech, a normal bit of social etiquette. At least, please do not suggest to someone who is making phone calls to tie up the details of a deceased loved one's life that they have a nice day. I can assure you they probably are not.
Oh, and another customer service weirdness, non-death-related. I got a letter from Tufts Health Plan, my evil insurance company, the other day offering to enroll me in a new free service where I would get a nurse case manager "for people with complicated medical conditions." WTF, I thought. I do not have any complicated health problems. But then I thought, oh, I had a lot of doctor visits last year when I was at war with my uterus and my crazee, so maybe the computer kicked you onto this list when you had x number of claims. Yesterday I got a voicemail from a woman from Tufts asking I call her back. I assumed (rightly, it turns out) that it was about this same program, and ignored it. The same woman called me again today and this time I took the call. She started her spiel; I told her I already got the letter. She said that she didn't have access to my medical records, but that on her list, or whatever, it appeared I'm on a medication for lung problems. I assured her that no, I'm not, and that actually, I had been surprised to get the letter since I'm perfectly healthy, and my medical problems from last year (which never included my lungs) were all resolved. She apologized and said that perhaps a code had been entered into the computer wrong (!), noted in my file what we'd said, and said she'd send me some info in the mail anyway, just in case I ever did feel I needed their program. Fair enough. But should I be concerned someone at Tufts thinks I've got COPD or uncontrolled asthma or something? It's a little disturbing! Maybe they'll start sending me inhalers or something and I can sell them on the black market. <---(joke, just a joke, don't tell the DEA on me.)
xoxo
2 comments:
Your part of the story is good news for those of us trying to make a buck with medical coding, like, see? Do too need us! Billers know jack about this.
The rest of it reminded me of the trials we had with my mother's estate, culminating with a very shitty bill collector lawyer who scared the life out of my younger brother. I sent him an even more shitty certified letter saying that all creditors had had copies of the DC (I had kept evidence) and where the fuck was his? I invited him to back down like yesterday or his state bar association would hear from me. He backed; he crawled: one of my better moments.
Makes you appreciate the people who offer condolences all the more.
Yes! I'm sure if you were involved, Tufts Health Plan wouldn't think I have TB or something! :-)
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