I Can’t Decipher My Medical Reports
Does Medicare cover translation services?
I turned sixty-five and signed up for Medicare. After ten years of being an uninsured writer, I’d finally have health insurance. After a decade of taking a number at a clinic, I looked forward to personal attention.
I studied the provider list in my Personal Plan Operations Insurance Company manual. I selected Dr. Loves-Her-Patients, MD, Ph.D. She had a big friendly smile in her picture on Rate Your Doctor dot com. And her office was located close to home, in the southwest wing of My Healthcare Teammates Hospital Campus, Downtown Branch. The receptionist called my name after only fifteen minutes, and then for the next fifteen hours, I played with the reflex hammer in the examining room. Doctor and I had a lovely chat, but I think that smile in her picture had been photo-shopped.
Emails were waiting when I got home. “Welcome to My Healthcare Teammates Hospital Campus, Downtown Branch. Dr. Loves-Her-Patients, MD Ph.D., wants to email your test results and answer your questions. Please create an account.”
A week later the doctor emailed my first test results.
Blood matriculation level: XBL570.3.
I emailed her back. “Dear Dr. L, It was a pleasure meeting you. Thanks for taking care of me. I’m afraid I don’t understand the test results. Love, Dawn.” An answer came on the same day. “Dear Ms. Downey, I will ask doctor to explain test results. — Tammy, Nurse Practitioner.”
Another email. “Welcome to Personal Plan Operations Insurance Company, Now Part of the Oxcom Media Family. Please create an account.”
A month passed. I got a letter from Laboratory Diagnostics (Specimens Your Way!), Inc. “Dear Patient: We have no insurance information on file for you. Statement balance $57.00. Payable last week. Please call if you have questions.” I called the number that was listed.
“Thank you for calling Laboratory Diagnostics (Specimens Your Way!). Please press one for pharmaceutical sales. Press two for dengue fever support. Press three if you reside in the mountain time zone …” I pressed twelve for operator assistance. “Your call is important to us. Please wait twenty minutes for the next available personal associate, or visit our website.” I visited the website.
“Welcome to Laboratory Diagnostics (Specimens Your Way!), Inc dot com. Please create an account.”
Another website popped up. “Welcome to Neighborly Offshore Corporation That Owns Laboratory Diagnostics (Specimens Your Way!) Inc. Please create an account.”
Dr. Loves-Her-Patients emailed another test result. I logged in. “We do not recognize this user name or password. Please try again.” I tried again. “Please reset your password.” I reset.
Big toe glucose tolerance: 57- (D3 x Y4).
“Dear Tammy, I’m afraid I don’t understand my test result. Sincerely, Dawn.”
“Dear Ms. Downey, I will ask doctor to explain test results. — Tammy, Nurse Practitioner.”
Personal Plan Operations Insurance Company emailed, too. “Good news! Your Explanation of Benefits is ready! Simply sign in to your account.” I signed in.
Office Visit to Dr. Loves-Her-Patients, MD, Ph.D.: $3,000,000.42.
Personal Plan Operations Insurance Paid: $2.75.
Patient Owes: $0.00.
Dr. Loves-Her-Patients emailed again.
Eyelash hematology ratio: 23 mg per .00135 longitudinal slope.
“Dear Tammy, I’m afraid I don’t understand my test result. Cordially, Dawn.”
“Dear Ms. Downey, I will ask doctor to explain test results. — Tammy, Nurse Practitioner.”
After all this personal attention, my Nap Probability Level skyrocketed to 100%.