In Which My Dealings With Everyone Continue To Be Absurd, And Probably Expensive.

I went up to Albuquerque yesterday for an appointment with my podiatrist because I need new inserts for my shoes. The old ones solved my foot pain perfectly, but they're falling apart now, and it's coming back with a vengeance.

So, I go up and they x-ray my feet and stuff. Then they tell me that they would just take casts of my feet right then, but they need to get prior authorization from my insurance company. You know, I tell them, they covered it just fine last time, but even if they don't and I have to pay for the whole thing out of pocket, I'm still going to need it done, as suffering stabbing foot pain every time I walk really is not an attractive lifestyle choice for me. (Well, I may not have phrased it quite that way.) They told me, yes, but if you don't ask them ahead of time, they might decide not to cover it, just because you didn't ask. All right, then. Fine. I can make another appointment to do the cast. With my work schedule, I don't know exactly when, but OK.

Today, they call me and tell me the insurance company said they wouldn't authorize it. Which kind of angered me, because when they forcibly switched us onto this bone-crushing high-deductible plan, they assured us our coverage wouldn't change, and, again, it was covered last time. So I call the insurance company myself and ask about it. The conversation ended with this little gem:

Me: OK, I apologize if I'm just repeating things now, but I want to make sure I have this right. You won't pre-authorize it, but if they submit the claim afterward, with the reason it was medically necessary, you might or might not cover it?

Her: That's right.

Thank, Cigna. Thanks a bundle.