Slow, steady breaths

David and I are about to start childbirth preparation classes here next month, and we already have the book and accompanying CD. This is a good thing, it turns out, because I’m going to need those breathing exercises and calming meditations for a lot more than labor pains.

Case in point: Our Insurance Carrier Who Shall Remain Nameless (but whose name starts with a ‘C’ and rhymes with, um, let’s say, ‘Rig-na.’).

We started coverage under the international plan for expatriates in January, when we got this great booklet explaining our coverage, and our nifty little plastic membership cards. We read through them, coverage looks great. We have to submit our own claims, but we expected as much. To be honest, we didn’t think much about it again until last month (May) when we received another coverage booklet.

(Helpfully forwarded to us from our Atlanta P.O. box where it had been sent by his company. You know, if anyone were supposed to know that we actually live abroad and not at our U.S. address, you’d think it would be them, right? Alright, really, no major problem. Inhale, slooowly exhale.)

This little missive contained some information not mentioned the first time around. To wit: Routine hospital admissions must be pre-approved. For routine hospital admissions that are related to pregnancy, we should contact the health plan by the end of the third month. Right. Entering my seventh month here. That’s going to be complicated (OK, relax, there’s a website for more info. Inhale, exhale sloooowly…. Imagine you are sitting by a gently flowing stream, etc.)

So, OK. I visit the carrier website, click on the tab under member login and—wait for it!-–attempt to log in. To make a long story somewhat shorter, I’ll briefly summarize what followed.

• Receive automatically generated message saying that my information is invalid.
• Attempt to log in three more times. Double-checking info each time. Get locked out of system and receive automated message instructing me to try again in half an hour.
• Return three hours later to try again. Receive error message before I can even enter my information. Clear browser cache, try again. Same result. Restart computer. Same result. Wash, rinse, repeat over the next week.
• Give up and call customer service number. Wait through 20 minutes of a phone queue in the middle of the night (business hours in the States), listening to endless announcements that I would not need to wait if I would use the online website to access information.
• Finally reach end of automatic phone queue to hear another automated message informing me that the entire department is undergoing training that day and I will need to call again at another time. “Goodbye.” (Inhale. Hold breath. Exhale slooo-oooo-oow. ly. Force jaw to unclench. Think of puppies, kittens, little butterflies in a field ….)

I call customer service again this morning, listen to just five minuties of repeated entreaties to use the website from which I am electronically banned, and get through to a live person.

She asks if she can help me. I tell her I am having trouble registering on the member website.

“Are you a member?”

Uh, no lady, I totally like trying to log in to different carrier websites and read policy statements just for fun.

“Yes, I am. But, I am a dependent, not the primary policy holder. Does that make a difference?”

“No, not at all. Can I have your name and policy ID number please?”

“Sure. It’s xxx-xxxx. And, the number is xxxxxxxxx.”

“Give me a minute to pull up the information.”

–A minute later.–

“Oh, I’m sorry. We have to have permission from the primary policy holder to give you a password for the website. ”

So, that part about it not making a difference if I am the primary policy holder was what, exactly?

“I see.”

“Can you call your husband or put him on three-way so he can give me verbal consent?”

Can I just tell you now that the last thing most people would like to do is have any kind of ‘three way’ with their insurance carrier? (Hee. Hee. Hee. Hoooooo)

“No, no. I’ll have to have him call you and register. Thanks for your time.”

It’s going to be a long summer.