When I was a kid, it was fun to get mail. Now, not so much. My mailbox at home is a receptacle for junk
mail, various solicitations for services I will never need, and bills. Office mail is not much more fun. Each day I look through the stack and
separate them into 3 categories.
- Important stuff
- Garbagio
- Not sure
The latter category is the most vexing. Some stuff is cleverly designed to appear
important when, in reality it is drivel and nonsense. We’ve all seen this stuff. Sometimes, the envelope will include a teaser
label, such as ‘Time Sensitive Material’, or ‘Signature Required’. Once I have been duped to open up the
envelope, I’ve lost the game. Then, I am
forced to scan the printed page as fast as my retinas can process the image
with the hope that in a few nanoseconds I can send the page sailing into the
waste bin. Sometimes, however, even
after reading the entire page, I simply can’t determine if the document merits
calling an office meeting to discuss the contents or if it should be simply
burned, with the ashes scattered over Lake Erie in a solemn ceremony. One must choose wisely when facing these
conundrums. If a document is shredded
instead of scanned into a patient’s chart, the potential consequences are
simply too grisly for me to detail here on a blog that children can access.
I received a notification from a pharmaceutical company
indicating that the heartburn medicine I prescribed so casually to an elderly
patient was not the ‘preferred agent’.
These was a form letter which demonstrated the same level of warmth and
human emotion that one expects when you call the Internal Revenue Service for
assistance. But, there was a 2nd
page in the envelope, appears below.
Kindly note that I was able to technically reproduce the image here
without the assistance of a 13-year-old child.
This letter, sent to the patient, advises that customer
service agents at WellCare are available to discuss the issue with the patient. I am not certain if my patient intends to
contact them, but my own experience is that making these phone calls is about
as fun as undergoing oral surgery. But,
what struck me was all of the languages contained in the letter, many of which
I could not recognize. At the bottom of
the letter is a Yiddish translation.
Yes, Yiddish. Yes, the moribund language
that many of our grandparents spoke. I
can’t speak it or read it, but I can recognize it. Obviously, WellCare must include so many
Yiddish speakers that they need to include this language in their
correspondences. My guess is that not a
single Yiddish speaker is a WellCare customer.
Maybe, I am wrong and that Yiddish is roaring back. Kudos to the linquists at WellCare for
providing their customers with this essential service. I may politely suggest that they include hieroglyphics
on future mailings. Why should these
folks be left out?
So, was this letter worth saving? Probably not, but I just couldn’t part with
it.
I identify with what you said in your post about your diagnosis of Hashimoto's disease. I, too, was diagnosed with a disease that would qualify as a pre-existing condition and denied me coverage to private insurance. The full implementation of ACA covered me. Without the support of my wife and insurance provided by the ACA, I don't know where I would be.
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