Leave it to the government to name one of it’s health care programs after a venomous snake. The actual name is: Consolidated Omnibus Budget Reconciliation Act. Not much better.
Anyway, as most of you know, when you switch jobs, you frequently have to go without health insurance for 3 months or so between the time your old job drops you and the new job picks you up. COBRA is the government’s answer to that gap. So long as you continue to pay the premium, you can continue on your last job’s health plan for up to 18 months or so. Here’s the catcher: for the wife, wee one and I, the monthly premium was over $1200.
Uh, no.
Here’s the other issue: So long as Annabelle goes on COBRA and has continuous coverage, the new Insurance Company cannot deny her based on a pre-existing condition. If Annie doesn’t go on COBRA and has a lapse in coverage, the new company does not have to cover her (none of this has anything to do with the new health-care reform that was passed this past week or so).
So the $1200 question is, “Can we insure just Annabelle through COBRA without coverage for the wife and I?” The HR folks said “Absolutely” – for a premium of about $419 a month.
So I filled out the paperwork and sent it in. In reply, I received a letter in the mail stating, amongst other things:
“ You are hereby notified that your participation and that of your eligible qualified dependants, if any, has terminated. Reason: Enrolled child only.”
So that was my weekend. Did I tell my wife?
Uh, no.
There had to be a mistake, some explanation – please tell me that all the current political hanky-panky in DC aside, that my daughter didn’t just become uninsurable because of a bureaucratic glitch!
I called today and they verified that my insurance had been cancelled. “What about my daughter’s?” I asked, trying not to scream . . .
“Well, she didn’t qualify for the reduced premium.”
“Uh . . . what? . . .”
“She didn’t qualify.”
“For the reduced premium?” (Starting to get light-headed)
“That’s right.”
“But if we pay the regular premium, she is covered, right?!” (beads of sweat)
“Oh, of course! Your daughter is covered. Completely. We just need your premium of $419.”
So our daughter is currently covered by a program called “COBRA”.
It’s a good thing because if she wasn’t, I would have had a heart attack – and I did not elect the poison snake coverage for myself . . . . .
So that was my weekend. Did I tell my wife?
Uh, no.
There had to be a mistake, some explanation – please tell me that all the current political hanky-panky in DC aside, that my daughter didn’t just become uninsurable because of a bureaucratic glitch!
I called today and they verified that my insurance had been cancelled. “What about my daughter’s?” I asked, trying not to scream . . .
“Well, she didn’t qualify for the reduced premium.”
“Uh . . . what? . . .”
“She didn’t qualify.”
“For the reduced premium?” (Starting to get light-headed)
“That’s right.”
“But if we pay the regular premium, she is covered, right?!” (beads of sweat)
“Oh, of course! Your daughter is covered. Completely. We just need your premium of $419.”
So our daughter is currently covered by a program called “COBRA”.
It’s a good thing because if she wasn’t, I would have had a heart attack – and I did not elect the poison snake coverage for myself . . . . .
2 comments:
The government thinks its cobra idea is good...first, when you find yourself in that position, it is really scary! Then you find out the cost has gone up about 700% Then you pray you find work to end the pain.
THEN you are actually thankful that you have it. What a crazy system. Hope things start looking better for you.
I really, really enjoy your blog. How you manage it, I don't know.
Feeling your pain.
We just found out that our COBRA premium will be $850 for just the two of us, more if the little guy gets here before his coverage kicks in.
It feels a bit like being robbed. No wait. It feels a lot like being robbed.
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