you have entered twilight zone

you have entered: the twilight zone

So the people at the pharmacy think I have lost my mind, but it is not

I. Somebody, but not I.

Last month they told Lance that the Clomid would have been covered by

my insurance if only the doctor had precertified it. "No it wouldn't,"

I said when he came home. Our insurance does not cover infertility

treatment. At all. Believe me, the experience of finding this out was

so harrowing that the fact is now permanently engraved in my skin.

Lance wasn't sure, but thought the pharmacy had actually been told

this by my insurance when they called to put the prescription through.

He persuaded me it didn't hurt to try.

So this month I tried. Called the doctor's office and asked them to

precertify it.

Wouldn't you know, the doctor's office called right back (after I

waited 24 hours and called them again, I mean) and said my insurance

told them it doesn't NEED to be precertified. It's just covered.

Now me, I am not an idiot. I've been through this before. I know my

insurance sows misinformation like the plague. I know that if three

different people call, my insurance will give them three different

answers (maybe they cycle through them, or something?), but I KNOW

infertility medications are not covered on my plan. I call them

myself.

"Your insurance does not cover medications prescribed for the

treatment of infertility." Thank you. I knew that. So the information

the other representative gave my doctor's office was incorrect. "No.

Because if you had one of our plans that did cover infertility

medication, it would not need to be precertified."

Ah. So you figured, when my doctor called about me, she was asking

about a plan some other people have, not the one *I* have? Oh, forget

it.

Several hours and a lot of muttering under my breath about the waste

of time this was later, I'm off to the pharmacy. Instead of the $65

total I'm expecting, the clerk tells me I have a $10 copay. I stare at

her blankly, and then say "Are you sure?" She says it went through; my

insurance okayed it. I tell her it's a mistake. She calls over the guy

in charge. What's your problem, he wants to know? No one's going to

bill you. Your insurance okayed it. What did you do last month? We

paid up front, I say. He goes to look. No, your insurance covered it

last time, too.

OK, what??

Now I'm home, I know I didn't imagine that part. There's a charge for

$65 on our visa statement. But with all those people looking at me

like I was crazy in the head, I couldn't express what I was worried

about, exactly. I guess, uh, what difference DOES it make if I pay now

or get billed later? So I let them goad me into doing it. I paid the

copay and went home.

I think what the guy in charge was trying to say, without outright

saying it, was that if my insurance made a mistake and let it go

through, they're not likely to catch it. On the way home I wondered if

this felt dishonest. I decided it wasn't. After all, if my insurance

tells everyone who calls something different, who's to say they're

lying to them and not to me? Maybe I have fabulous infertility

coverage and just don't know it.

I don't, though. We're going to get a bill. Count on it. And the next

time my insurance lies, I will have to take the bait all over again.

Because what if it's the one time they're telling the truth, and it