“Oh no they didn’t!”
A review of our records indicate [sic] that you and/or members of your family have chosen the medical group and/or primary care physician shown in the left column below. [We have] assigned you and/or members of your family to the new medical group and/or primary care physician in the right column below.
Another day, I will properly inform you of the time, energy, and money I poured into selecting the suddenly-and-against-my-will-former primary care physician of five years (who apparently is no longer contracting with my health insurance company). But one soapbox at a time, shall we?
I promptly called the office of My New Doctor Formerly Known As Total Stranger, explaining the situation to the receptionist and requesting an interview with the appointed gatekeeper of all my medical concerns — to evaluate if we were a good match for working together.
“Are you a doctor?” she asked, confused.
Hm. Maybe if I say the same thing again, but louder, she will understand?
Eventually comprehending that I was just that highly annoying breed of patient with a misplaced sense of dictatorial control over her own damn body, the receptionist informed me that said doctor man is in fact retired, i.e., no longer working, i.e., not seeing patients, i.e., not my doctor.
Pause. Scratch head. Quizzically stare at phone receiver.
“Uh…Is there another doctor in the practice who is taking patients?”
“This is a clinic for senior citizens.”
Well. Paint my hair red and call me Health Care Orphan Annie.
Here’s the kicker: A couple of weeks ago, I got yet another notice from my illustrious health insurance company, informing me that they are jacking up my HMO rate to $750/month. Seven hundred and fifty dollars a month!
But I promised you just one soapbox today, so more (oh, so much more) about that later.
Run for the hills while you can.