I work in a cubicle. I work for an HMO in their corporate office. I proof database data eight hours a day. Joy.
Six feet away from, through a cube wall and across an aisle is the Appeals Department. If there’s anything that convinces me there’s a health care problem in this country, it’s listening to the conversations the Appeals Department has. On the rare occasions when they talk about members they show an appalling lack of empathy. More often than not, though, their conversations run like this:
“Ask me anything! Anything at all! You can even ask me why the sky is blue!”
“Why is the sky blue?”
“Because it’s reflecting the ocean.”
“The sky’s a mirror. It reflects the ocean. That’s why the sky’s blue.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah, I’m a genius.”
(An aside. No, lady! You’re a moron!)
But their most common running joke is about the Hispanic name “Jesus.”
I would like to give you a flavor of how these conversations go, but I find them offensive, and I’m not even a Christian. Suffice it to say, they‘re offended that Jesus is an Hispanic name because they’re taking the “Lord’s name in vain.” No, you morons! Jesus is the Hispanic form of “Joshua.” I’ve wanted to jump up and shout, “You ignorant fools! If you have a son and you name him ‘Josh,’ you’re giving him the same name as an Hispanic does when she names her son ‘Jesus.’ Just deal with it, you dopes!”
I swear. We have morons in charge of deciding whether or not an appeal of a non-coverage decision goes forward. That‘s why there’s a health care crisis.