I Was Going to Complain…

November 14, 2012

After yesterday’s, um, adventure (?) with the pharmacy’s computer, I had every intention of sharing that experience with the customer service rep when I finally spoke with one. Okay, that sounds harsh. I wasn’t going to ream them out. But I was going to point out that it was very odd for the computer to call me and then hang up on me, and that a lot of people use smartphones these days, which means we don’t automatically have a keypad handy. I was going to be very polite about. I was going to say that I found it frustrating. I was going to say that I knew it wasn’t the rep’s fault, but that I thought they might want to pass it along to their higher ups. I was going to do all of this, but I didn’t.

First of all, a rep answered on the first ring. Okay, the first ring after I pressed “6” to get to a rep, but I was never on hold. And she was incredibly soft spoken. I called from my office landline. It’s your typical office phone. I can adjust the volume of the speaker or the ringer or, well, pretty much every noise a phone might make. (Admittedly, those are the only two I can think of at the moment, but I feel like there was more back when we got this system and had to go through training on how the new phones worked.) I increased the volume as far as it can go and still had to ask her to repeat a couple of questions. And she was so friendly.

Tangent alert: The BBC has or had (I’m not sure if it’s still on the air) a radio program called “Goodness Gracious Me”. It was sketch comedy about being Asian in England. And, of course, in England, “Asian” generally refers to the Indian subcontinent. One of my favorite sketches was about a British man getting a job at an Indian company and his colleagues insisting that his name (something like “Bob”) was far too difficult to pronounce, so he would have to choose an Indian name to go by at work. (They also would do song parodies. I haven’t been able to listen to “I’m a Barbie girl” without replacing Barbie with Punjabi since.) One of the recurring themes was about how Indian girls are so sweet. There would be a woman doing something serious, becoming prime minister, say, or an axe murderer, and all of the men would just go on and on about how she is “so sweet”. Meanwhile the woman would say things like “I just killed 17 people.” And the men would laugh and say “so sweet”.

The point of the above tangent is the “so sweet” sketches. The rep had a Southeast Asian accent. Not a thick one, but it was there nonetheless. And between her accent and how soft spoken she was, I confess that I couldn’t help but think she was so sweet. And then I stopped myself. Thank you, “Goodness Gracious Me”.

So, anyway, I didn’t share my frustrations from yesterday with her. And she did ask several questions about what my insurance does or does not cover. I was going through the booklet on the intranet while we were on the phone, but it wasn’t until we hung up that I found it. She said that it wasn’t a problem. She’d be able to find out. I said I was pretty sure none of it was covered, but I wasn’t positive. The FSH and hCG are going to be shipped to my parents’ house in two weeks. That will get it here well in advance of when I’ll need it.

And what I found in the insurance booklet is what I expected. Fertility medications are not covered. Injectable drugs are covered, unless they are fertility medications. (Lawyered!) But, at least my insurance is equal opportunity, or equal no opportunity. Impotence drugs aren’t covered either. So I have no clue how much money I spent today. I’m thinking I should probably pay off the Ikea charges on my credit card before I incur the pharmacy charges. That will make paying that bill a bit less painful.

And now it’s back to waiting.

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