You know what really frosts my flakes? “The medical network.”
Nobody knows what it is, but it controls everything.
Apparently, there’s an invisible line on a map. Stay inside it, then you’re fine. Step one foot outside it, and suddenly you’re taking out a second mortgage.
That MRI 14 miles away? Covered. The exact same MRI 15 miles away? That’ll be $3,000, please.
And don’t even try to figure out what’s “in-network.” You call the insurance company, and they don’t know. You call the doctor, and they don’t know. You call the hospital, and they give you a completely different answer.
But, somehow, you’re the one who’s supposed to get it right.
And my favorite? You go to an in-network hospital, but the anesthesiologist is out of network. The lab is out of network. The guy reading the results is out of network.
So congratulations. You followed all the rules and still lost.
And heaven forbid you travel. Because, apparently, your insurance only works in your own zip code.
They call it a “network” like it’s something helpful. It sounds official, organized and logical. It’s not. It’s just a list of doctors and clinics who agreed to discount their services. So, there’s no logic to it at all.
It’s a very expensive guessing game. Guess wrong, and you pay, without recourse.
I’m Grandpa Grumpy and I’m way too old for this nonsense.