Insurance Redux

 I know it has not been long since my little diatribe about my disdain for insurance companies, but I now have a fun story from today.

A customer gives me their insurance card to put in the system. Alright... All is fine and good.

Until I see the card doesn't have a BIN number on it. Now... The BIN is how we search for insurance companies with my company's system. Without it, I can't find the insurance. Oh well, I'll just call the number on the card, get the information I need, and all will be good.

....... An automated system. Fan-fucking-tastic. Remind me to tell you all how much I love automated systems. It took me around in circles, never giving me the option to ask for an actual person for close to ten minutes. Seriously? I should be done with the call in less than ten minutes, not still frantically trying to figure out how the hell to get a hold of an actual living being to give me a tiny piece of information.

Finally, the monotone woman of the automated system gives me the option to ask for a representative. Great! Good! I'll take it! ..... More automated crap asking for things that REALLY don't pertain to what I need to be asking. Whatever, I'll pick something random, and then get transferred if I have to.

I finally hear the sweet tones of the voice belonging to an actual person. Her name is Marty, apparently. Well, Marty got to tell me her name and then start to say something before the phone disconnects.

I pause for a few moments, just staring at the phone in disbelief. Are you kidding me? I have to do all of that again? Please, if there is any deity out there, be kind enough to just kill me now; it would be preferable to redialing that number and wading through that God-forsaken system, but I have to.

Skip ahead to my achieving the ultimate goal of reaching an actual person. In my head, all choruses are singing praises to the heavens. I relay my mission only to be told that this wasn't the number I needed. Because they just do the customer's medical coverage, not the prescription coverage. They can, however, transfer me to the company that does the prescription coverage. I manage a terse, "Yes, please..." through clenched teeth as I hear hold music punctuated by an automated voice so soft, that I could never even hope to understand what it's saying.

Another person picks up. Relay my issue again, hoping for the best, "I'm sorry, but this is the member help desk. You need the pharmacy help desk. Would you like me to transfer you?"

I start considering just crying instead, but I agree and go back to listening to the soft hold music with the even softer automated message (now identifiable as informing me of my ability of going to their website). I wait, and wait, and wait, and wait... Then a person! Glorious day! I inform them that I just need their BIN number to set up a customer's insurance; could they please tell me what it is?

Well, of course they can't do that without getting the ID number, card holder's name, the name of the dependent that I'm calling about, and the birth date of said dependent since I didn't possess the birth date of the card holder. Oh, and just for shits and grins, they asked for the customer's zip code. After rattling off all of this information, I at last received what I needed.

A BIN number. That's all I needed; a BIN number. It took me two tries to even get a person in the first place, and close to half an hour on the phone.

Just to get a series of six numbers.

Fuck insurance companies.