OPEN ENROLLMENT SEASON

It has been “open enrollment” season for Medicare, although, I think it might more appropriately be called “open season.” There have been non-stop, ferocious, marketing come-ons for the so-called Medicare Advantage programs. Even I, and I pretty much have all my marbles, was intrigued and tempted by the absolutely-free and fully loaded debit card you can use for just anything.

Some years ago, I succumbed to the blandishments of a Medicare Advantage program marketing blitz. But I went back to regular old, plain old Medicare as fast and as soon as I could! Those jokers sent me a goodies box with some generic dental floss and a tube of triple antibiotic cream and then proceeded to deny every claim I put in for a service. What a joke! Think about it! How are you supposed to go from a program that does not make a profit to one that does and expect to get more? Common sense says things do not work that way!

During this open season, I did decide to change out my Medicare part D, or the policy that covers pharmaceuticals. I was paying some $75 a month which was crazy! The only drug I get is Valium. I used to get valium, I should say. I liked to have a little stash of Valium, but my primary care doc cut me off. I inherited him when my nice, Cuban lady retired and the new guy says that Valium is not recommended for ladies of my advanced years, presumably because I will get sleepy, fall down and break a hip. Plus, he must give his fingerprints to write a prescription. I blame the Sacklers. I think this is their fault.

So, I found a new Medicare part D outfit. They only charge 12.50 a month. I opted to have this sum automatically deleted from my social security benefit. That was fine. It is not much.

But then the part D company sent me a coupon book to make my 12.50 payments. By that time, I had forgot about the arrangement with social security, and I paid for a year up front with a coupon. By the time I realized my terrible mistake, the check had cleared.

I called up the part D company to ask them to fix this situation. I got a poor young person with a terribly strong accent. He understood my issue but had to put me on hold several times to go confer with his supervisor. After two ten-minute holding sessions he came back and told me I couldn’t get a refund and would have to sort it out with social security. He gave me a number. I was disgruntled. He was very sorry.

I called this number, naively thinking that things would work out, and got a recording that lasted about ten minutes at the culmination of which the machine asked me kindly how it could help me. “I would like to speak to a human being!’ I told it. This was clearly the wrong answer as it proceeded to sympathize with me for my bereavement and tell where to go to report a death.

After that, I opted to call the local social security office. Here, I got a recording telling me I was the lucky winner of one of those buttons that you push when you fall over and there is no one to help you. (For instance, presumably, when you are old and take 5 mg of Valium which you have been clearly instructed not to do.) I got past this sales pitch and was connected to what absolutely sounded like a human being. “Oh Chelsea”, said I naively, “I am so glad I have finally got you on the phone!” At which point Chelsea got going again about the lifesaving button that I was so lucky to get for free! There was no stopping her, so I hung up.

After that I got what I thought was an artificial intelligence app. I was really impressed with how things were going until she asked me for a “fully refundable” five dollars. I hung up on her, too.

My husband said that we should drive down to the local office and deal with all this in person. We went out to the car, and I put the address into GPS but for some reason there was no cell service. Nobody has maps anymore, either, so there wasn’t one. “Look,” I said, “I am giving up. I’m going to go back inside and write a letter.” So, I went in and did that.

It is a nice letter with a handwritten address and a stamp