And One More Thing

When I was recounting the day I lost the will to live I forgot one thing. I'm not sure how I left this out because it was extremely frustrating. In the midst of all that other stuff going on, I got a call from a debt collection agency. It was about the radiology bill for the MRI I had back in 2016. 

The young lady asked me how I'd like to take care of the payment. 

"I'd like for Aetna to pay it. Actually, they told me not to worry about it that they were taking care of it. So I need to phone them. Again."

She asked if I would like for her to call them. But I said I would call because I really had a number of things I wanted to say to them. But for reasons that aren't all that surprising, I just couldn't bring myself to call Aetna on that day. 

But I did call them yesterday. And as usual, was getting no closer to resolution. I repeated the story of how back in August of 2016 my doctor had ordered an MRI. Of course, he sent the order to an imaging center that was out of network. When they called and told me how much it was going to cost, I declined making the appointment and immediately called Aetna to find an "in network" provider. After nearly a month of calling Aetna once of twice a week, I got a call from an imaging center in Frisco that said I had approval to come in and get the MRI. My best guess is that imaging centers do not make random calls to people who "might" need or want an MRI. My assumption was that they had been in contact with Aetna and felt pretty confident they would be paid because I left without paying anything. (I was expecting a co-pay and was surprised that there wasn't one.)

This story got repeated several times and each time the customer service rep went back to the same old song and dance.

"The claim was denied because there was no pre-certification."

"But you approved it. They didn't call me out of the blue."

And the rep countered with "But there is no pre-certification on file. Would you like to hold while I check with the pre-certification department to see if they have one?"

Seriously? It's been over a year, who thinks they're going to miraculously find one now. (But I don't always say what I think.) "I don't care whether you have one or not. What you do and don't have is not my problem, even though you are trying to making it my problem."

"Would you like for me to check with them and call you back."

"No. I already know the answer to that one."

"Would you like me to continue to try to help you?"

"I don't think you can hep me. My next call will be to a lawyer."

"Why don't I connect you to a resolution specialist?"

"Okay."

A resolution specialist? You would think that every customer service rep would be a resolution specialist. 

I got to tell my sad tale one more time. Of course, the story on their side changed again. This time it was because the provider waited too long to file the claim. Plus they didn't get the pre-certification. (In the past it had always been because the doctor didn't send the referral. - Now it's because the imaging center didn't get the required pre-certification.)

The bottom line is that I don't owe the money. And apparently the provider should know this. The Aetna resolution specialist will talk to the provider and the collection agency to get the problem resolved and I shouldn't have to deal with it again. We'll see.  

Losing the Will to Live

When we took our cats in the camper with us last year, Harry looked like he'd lost the will to live after two days. I am now convinced this was caused by Heidi because we left her at Camp O'Shea and only brought Harry with us this time. We've been here for two weeks and he didn't lose the will to live until yesterday.

Harry and I both lost the will to live at about the same time. I think he lost it because I did. And he knew it. Cats are sensitive to things like that.

How did I lose it? Mark left early to meet with and then go do an inspection with the new inspector we hired in San Antonio. I got up and was in the process of getting everyone paid - something I do on the first of each month. About 10:30 I got a call from Eva telling me that Mark's 9:00 client had called to say that no one had turned up for his 9:00 inspection. He'd left "home" about 6:30 because of the fog and the traffic. I told her I'd phone him and see what happened.

No answer. Voicemail. I didn't want to leave a message. I hung up and redialed - probably four times, all with the same result. I know that if he's in heavy traffic or with a client, he often doesn't answer the phone. He probably wouldn't answer if he was unconscious in a hospital somewhere, either. But rather than panic, I decided to call the new inspector.

"Did you and Mark meet this morning?"

"Yes and now we're on the inspection."

"That's odd. The client just called to say that no one turned up to do his inspection."

"We were here before 9."

"Okay, you are at 12345 ABC."

"No that's not where we are. We are on XYZ street."

"That was supposed to be this afternoon. Tell Mark to call me."

At least he was alive and well. But he didn't call me. After 10 or 15 minutes, I decided to text him.

What should I tell the client that you didn't show up for?

I waited for his response. 

Seriously, I need to tell him something.

Still no response. 

At least he was alive and well. But maybe not for long. Ignoring me can be hazardous to your health!

Finally at 11:30 he called. Apparently his phone battery had died. He wondered what I told the 9 AM client.

"I haven't told him anything! What do you want me to tell him?"

I told him the truth. There were two inspections booked in his neighborhood and he went to the wrong one first. I offered him a discount and the option to reschedule for the following day or ASAP. He chose ASAP. (Now, you would have thought that the guy who was scheduled for the afternoon would have said something like "Oh, I wasn't expecting you until later." But that didn't happen.)

But that all worked out and they were able to get both inspections done before the second one was actually scheduled to start. 

In the meantime, I finished drinking my very last bottle of Ozarka. (I had a fridge full of fizzy water - because that's what Mark likes but I don't like it.) I couldn't run over to WalMart because I had no vehicle. But I could go to the park office because they have a small store and I knew they had bottles of water. But I couldn't get out of the camper. I seemed to be locked in. I moved the lock into every position but it didn't matter. The door would not open. It would open about a half inch but not enough for me to get out. I couldn't even see what was wrong with it. I only knew that I was stuck in a tin box and couldn't get out. There was no need to call Mark. He was on the north side of town and I was on the south - too far for him to easily rescue me. And besides, his phone may not have charged yet.

I gave up trying to get out. I filled my last Ozarka bottle with tap water. It tasted nasty. I only drank what I absolutely had to. 

It was time for lunch. I had left over spaghetti sauce. I only needed to cook a bit of spaghetti. But wait, I couldn't get the gas burners to light. There is a trick to it and I don't know it. I would just have to have salad in my tin can prison with no water. (Do you sense that the will to live is leaving me? It was leaving Harry, too, because he likes to sit and look out the door and I couldn't get it open. Harry tried to open the door but he wasn't successful, either.)

Then after lunch I got another message that one of our inspector's arrived at his inspection and was told that the client was expecting a structural engineer. What!?! Nothing on our flyer indicates that we are structural engineers. Home Inspectors. We are home inspectors. Our mailer identifies us as home inspectors. Not. Structural. Engineers. And why would that client think that a structural engineer would charge home inspector prices. Clue for you - that engineer is going to charge twice the amount of the inspector. I don't know what the client was thinking when he scheduled the inspection but he managed to waste our time. 

By this time it was starting to get hot. I could open the windows but I couldn't feel the effects of the cross breeze without the door open. The door still wouldn't open. I tortured myself at least once each hour trying to open the door.  And every time I tried the door, Harry did, too.)

When Mark called to tell me that they had finished up the second inspection - the one that was supposed to be first - I told him to be careful when he came back because the door was stuck. He wanted to help me. Gave me instructions over the phone to do the things I'd already done. He could hear the door "not opening". He offered to come right away, but it wasn't that important. I'd had no water and no breeze all day. What was another hour or two? But I was about to turn on the air conditioner. He should finish up and not worry. 

Of course when he got back he opened the door with absolutely no problem. Then we went to WalMart to buy water for me and oil for the door. And then we went to Boudro's - which has the best food on the San Antonio Riverwalk. And the will to live miraculously returned. (For Harry, too!)

Is it Theft if Someone Gave It to You?

I came home from Fort Lauderdale to find my mailbox stuffed with envelopes from Charles Schwab Bank. Panic was starting to set in even before I got the envelopes in the house. I started opening the envelopes and discovered debit cards, account verification letters, and notices of returned items.

The first thing I did was call Schwab Bank to let them know I had not opened any of these accounts, nor did I currently have any accounts with them. They said they'd pass the information on to their Fraud Department. I think they should have passed me through to the fraud department but I don't write their policy. The next thing I did was phone the police. The number three thing on my list was to call Experian and place a hold on my credit file. Next step was to call the folks at IDShield.

The following day I got a checkbook from Schwab Bank and a few more account verification letters and another notice of returned items. Once again, I thought I'd let the good folks at Schwab know. They still didn't seem particularly concerned.

Mark helped me open and organize everything. When all the mail had been opened, I had 30 debit cards all issued by Charles Schwab Bank. In addition to these debit cards I had four welcome packets, account verification letters for 32 accounts, one checkbook, and six notifications of returned items.

The account verification letters showed the email address used to open the accounts. (Not surprisingly, it wasn't mine.) While Schwab wouldn't tell me much of anything, they did confirm with IDShield that my name, address and social security number had been used to open the accounts.

I'm still not understanding why someone would open a bunch of accounts and order debit cards for them when there was no money in those accounts. Although someone must have put some money in one of those accounts because I received a box of checks and the verification letters indicated that checks would only be issued after the account had been funded. Yet all of the attempts to transfer money to PayPal failed. (At least as far as I know and if some were successful, it might have been done in my name, but it was done without any of my money.) Perhaps I'm just not devious enough to figure this out.

My best guess is that this is a direct result of the Equifax breach. We found out about it while we were in Italy so there wasn't a great deal I could do about it at the time. And then when I learned that the IRS had contracted with Equifax to keep their data safe, I assumed that we were all doomed and I bought IDShield while we were still in Florida, before I knew what was waiting for me in my mailbox at home. (Even though they are treating this like a pre-existing condition, they have been very helpful in guiding me through the reports that I need to get and the precautions I need to take to ensure that nothing comes of it.)

But the other thing I don't understand is why bells and whistles were not going off over at Schwab Bank. Perhaps I'm naive but I can't imagine that most people open 30 accounts. I can imagine scenarios where someone might need four or five, but I just can't imagine that someone opening 30 accounts doesn't set off an alarm somewhere. And just this morning I got the answer to that. It did set off a stink alarm. I was contacted by the Fraud Department at Schwab and we reviewed the scenario - apparently the 30 accounts got their attention but not before the cards and checks had been mailed. They confirmed with me that the identity thief has my name, address, phone number, and social security number - but NOT my mother's maiden name. (And this is why I will not play that silly game on Facebook where you list your parents and grandparents surnames!)

He was also able to tell me the name associated with the PayPal account that was supposed to be the recipient of the failed transfers. I think he was surprised when I recognized the name. I know I was surprised.

Bottom line. Whoever did this has stolen my time and my peace of my mind, but so far no money. Watching closely.

Size Matters

We were in Fort Lauderdale for a conference - the National Association of FHA Consultants. We hadn't rented a car so on the evenings that dinner wasn't provided, we needed to go somewhere within walking distance.

It was Florida. Near the coast. Fresh seafood is my first choice. We went to a place that billed itself as a seafood restaurant (it was really a sports bar). The fish selections included tilapia, salmon, and fried shrimp. I'm sorry, those don't actually count as seafood as far as I'm concerned. I opted for a salad with a bit of crab. (And it wasn't even real crab, but I'm okay with surimi.)

The next night we went to an Argentinian Steak House. It was lovely. Even though we had a refrigerator in the room, we didn't want to take back any food. So we both opted for what we thought would be the smallest option - filet. We made our salad and side dish selections and ordered a glass of wine.

The side salads arrived. Each would have fed a family of four. We nibbled at them because who wants to fill up on salad when filet mignon is on the way?

We should have been suspicious when no sizes were listed on the menu. In my experience filets are usually 6 oz. or 8 oz. Small when compared to ribeyes, T-bones, or strip steaks. Imagine my surprise when my plate arrived at the table with three filets on it. I was confused. If they had put Mark's filet on the same plate as mine, who was that third one for? I was still pondering that when another plate showed up for Mark with another three filets on it. Oh my!

Then the side dishes turned up. Enough mashed potato for a small army and sweet potato fries. Way more food than we could eat. The food was fabulous! I wish I could have eaten more of it but it was just so much. It turns out that all of their servings are a pound of meat. I wish we'd known that before we ordered. We could have shared everything and still had food left over.

I will be asking about serving sizes in the future. Live and learn.

Can We Add to Your Stress Today?

We like to go to the airport early to cut down on stress. We'd rather have our boarding passes and be through security way ahead of time. It doesn't matter if it's international or domestic - that's what we do.

What we don't do is pay extra to choose our seats. A seat is included in the price. When you're flying coach, none of them are particularly comfortable and we're never in such a big hurry that we absolutely must be the first people off the plane. I don't care which seats we have although we do like to sit together.

On our flight to Fort Lauderdale, we were a bit surprised that our boarding passes did not include seat assignments. Maybe it was because we were two hours early for a flight where we weren't even checking luggage. But we didn't notice the lack of a seat assignment until we arrived at the gate. Once we realized we had no seat assignments, Mark went to the desk to get it fixed. We were on American, by the way.

Mark returned to where I was sitting. "She says she's working on it." Who knew it was such a time consuming task?

"I don't like it when I don't have a seat assignment. The last time that happened half the plane was boarded before they gave me a seat. I don't like it at all", I said

About that time a woman seated near me weighed in on the topic. "It just adds to your stress level."

I agreed. "It does." She asked how long ago we'd booked the flight. "Weeks, maybe as much as a month."

"Hmmmm" she said.  "Who did you book it through?"

"American."

"Hmmmm" she said again. We shared a few air travel horror stories and she told us she was part of the crew on our flight and offered to check with the desk for us.

When she came back, she told me that she'd advised the desk to "take good care of Mr. & Mrs. Elliott."

We chit-chatted some more until it was time for her to board. We were still waiting for seat assignments. Boarding was starting so I went to the desk to check on it and was told that she was working on it and to just listen for our name.

Our name was eventually called. Our seats were opposite each other but it was fine because we each had an aisle seat. Our new friend was surprised that we didn't have adjacent seats, but we reassured her that across the aisle was absolutely fine. And with that, she put us on the list for free food and drinks because they'd "inconvenienced" us.

I wish I got free food and beverages every time someone inconvenienced me. I'd probably be more overweight than I am already. Not that the food was that great, but by that time I was getting hungry. And it was free.

A Thousand Dollars???

While we were away there were several times when I was convinced that Mark wasn't hearing properly. Anytime I'd ever mentioned that he needed to get his hearing checked he went on the defensive. I wasn't accusing him of not listening. I was concerned that he wasn't hearing. Big difference.

There had been a couple of things that he didn't hear waiters say. I heard those things and assumed he had. It was only when his order wasn't "as expected" that I realized that he hadn't actually heard what the waiter said, even though he'd indicated approval.

But what finally made him realize he wasn't hearing things properly was the incident with the last Italian cab driver. Remember I mentioned yesterday that the cab ride from the hotel to the airport was 40 Euro? Mark paid this to the hotel and was given a voucher to give to the cab driver.

After the driver unloaded our bags he was waiting to be paid. He said it was 40 Euro. Mark didn't hear what he said so I said, "You need to pay him." And he said, "I paid the hotel." Then the cab driver said "I need the voucher."

Mark's eyes got wide as he exclaimed "What??? A thousand dollars?"

"No. The voucher. He needs the voucher."

Once Mark got over the shock of being asked for a "thousand dollars" he produced the voucher from his wallet and the cab driver was happy, I was relieved and Mark realized that he couldn't actually hear as well as he thought he could.

That is now being fixed.

Restaurants Near Me and $5 Toast

So to pick up where I left off yesterday. The full service restaurant was closed. The snack bar wasn't up to much. Mark was checking his phone for "restaurants near me". Nothing was coming up. We decided to go for a walk and see what might be available.

After nearly a half hour of walking, we did find another snack bar. Bigger than the one near the hotel and we were able to share a sandwich for a very late lunch. But it wasn't someplace you'd want to have dinner. And you had to go through an area that didn't look like a place you'd want to be after dark. There were some beautiful homes along the way, but they appeared to be well fortified - gates, bars and such. There must be an element around there that people want to keep out.

We asked the desk clerk for recommendations. He recommended pizza delivery. Hmmm. No. Try again. He recommended a wonderful restaurant that was a 20 Euro cab drive away. But the food was wonderful - although the servings were far too large. (Had we known, we'd have shared.)

Anyway, food problem solved. Let's move on to the transportation problem.

We had the 20 Euro cab ride from the restaurant back to the hotel. So the lack of the full service restaurant at the hotel turned out to be a bit expensive. And here is where the math gets strange. A cab ride from the train terminal to the airport was 45 Euro. The cab ride from the terminal to our hotel was 40 Euro. It seemed as though the cab ride from the hotel to the airport should cost about 5 to 7 Euro at the most. But it was 40. So if we'd gone straight from the terminal to the airport, it would have cost 45 Euro. But stopping overnight at a hotel along the way caused that price to go up to 80 Euro. (Don't forget the extra 40 for cabs just to have a proper meal.) And of course every cab driver gets a tip. So I suspect that it might have been cheaper in the long run just to pay the higher rates at one of the airport hotels. (Actually, I don't suspect. I know it for a fact.)

Then there were the technical problems. I would have taken a shower as soon as I checked in to that hotel but we needed to try to find some lunch. And when we returned from lunch, I needed to complete payroll because I wouldn't be able to do that from a plane. By the time I took care of all the business it was time for dinner. When we got back, I went in and started the water running for a shower. Plumbing is not one of my strengths. I often ask Mark to just leave the water running for me so I don't have to figure out how to turn it on or adjust the temperature. Showers in England nearly always mystify me but the Italian ones were pretty straightforward. But after several minutes of running the water, it just wasn't getting hot. I called my engineer but he's often not at his best when it's late. (In fact, unless water is pouring onto the floor, he doesn't work much past 5 pm.) He wasn't getting anywhere with it and I just don't do cold showers. I used my micellar spray to wash my face and just went to bed. Of course, the following morning Mark figured out the combination of switches needed to turn on the hot water. But it didn't get hot in time to take a shower before we left.

And then to add insult to injury we were charged 14 Euro for the "included" breakfast. I just really hate paying $5 or more for a slice of toast.