Why Insurance Companies Hate Me

In which our Lady uses her insurance—and how.

There’s nothing like getting a bill in the mail for $76,066.85.  And it doesn’t even include my ER venture at Mat-su Regional, any check-ups and Dr.’s visits, or even the actual surgery.  76 K for a week long stay, including an expensive ACC visit for 24 hours (21 K—and for what? The Bolshevik Revolution, apparently) Remember, I didn’t have to go through chemo and radiation, so none of those would-be expenses are included either.   Thankfully, my out of pocket maximum is only $1000, so as soon as I convince my dubious health insurance company that they are indeed my primary and only hope for coverage, I should be able to keep out of the poorhouse a little longer.  This is why you have good insurance, people.  Sadly, this summer Jon and I had made the goal to take out a life insurance policy under my name during this October (now), which is PFD season (free money!) here in Alaska.  Just a little 100,000 policy in case Jon should need to pay for day-care in the event of my death.  It was next in line after doing such grown-up things as buying a house and getting a new(er) car, things we’d done in the spring.  I’d even already had a friendly chat with an insurance agent.  Somehow, I doubt MetLife will insure me now.  So much for that idea…