Keeping my cool. Not.

I'm typing this as I am on hold and speaker phone with HealthCare.gov.  Yes, I should have done this several months ago, on October 5, to be exact, when I stopped being covered by the City of Albuquerque's health insurance plan.  But here I am, on New Year's Eve, upping my blood pressure, ensuring that I'll NEED that champagne cocktail at midnight tonight.

I knew this would be a frustrating process, but I had no idea.

I start with the New Mexico Health Exchange website, cleverly called bewellnm.  I look at the various health plans in the Marketplace.  My choices are ick, urk, and yuck.  But, I use the nifty comparison tool, and come up with the plan that seemed least smelly.   Unfortunately, there seems to be no dental or eye care available, which is just wrong.  And there's this mystical thing called 50% of coinsurance....I have no idea what that means, so apples/oranges comparison is not possible.

Then, I go to healthcare.gov to apply.  I create a user name and password, they send me an email, I follow the verification link, log in and BOOM!  big fat nothing.  So, I click on the chat link and have a lovely scripted conversion with Jamie.  "We're sorry for your frustration and are trying to make this work for you."  Um, fine.  Get me logged in.  "We're sorry the website is not working for you."  Umm...so what do I do.  "An agent at this number will be glad to help you with your application."  aaaargh. "We know this is frustrating for you, we're just giving you options."  Fine.

So, now I call the 800 number.  In a commendably quick time, I get my agent.  Then the nightmare begins. I explain what I've done.  I explain again where the problem was.  I give my name.  Address.  Address again.  Spelled out address (v as in victor, i, s as in sam....).  Social Security number.  Birthdate.  Okay, can I put you on hold?  (Do I have a choice?)   5 minutes later, I am telling her what I've done.  I give my name.  Address.  Address again.  I say, Just what were you doing just now?  She was trying to get the online access for me.  I say, I was told you could do the application for me on the phone.  She says, oh sure, we can do that.

aaaargh.

Now comes the agonizing and humiliating process of filling out the application.  Name again.  Address again.  Birthdate again....oooh some new questions, all about income.  Umm, there is no income.  Yes, there's rental income.  Enough to cover the mortgage, so it balances out to zero.  Investments.....I guess savings counts, maybe $100 a year.  Self-employment....well, not really.  The money I get for house-sitting is basically covering living expenses, and it doesn't involve W2s or 1099s or any of those things that the IRS wants.  And this is all about my plans for 2014 taxes.  No, I don't expect the income I had in 2011.  (2011?  What's that about?)

I say, this form doesn't seem to have unemployed people in mind.  She says, it's the same form for everyone.  I'm getting increasingly flat affect and distinct as I answer the questions, then abruptly my frustration spikes and I start questioning the process.   Big mistake, it just flusters her, and she is having problems enough dealing with the pop-up windows.  BEEP!  error, error, error.  (Cue robot voice here.)

Finally she submits the application.  Two minutes later, she starts reading the results.  I qualify for Medicaid because, go figure, I'm broke.  So all that research about plans was waste motion.  I say, what if I want another plan?  She says, they won't accept you because you have no income.  I say, two years ago when I was unemployed I applied for insurance and they were happy to give me a plan and take my money.  What's the difference here?  She says, they won't accept you if you don't have income.  I say, huh?  and we go around and around.  I say, so what if I go outside this system and call  Blue Cross?  She says, you can do that, but they will still check your income.  What if I lie on my application and say I'm making $3000 a month? They will still check your income.

So, Medicaid is my only choice?  Apparently so.  And, what do I do now?  Wait for them to contact me.

Fifty-five minutes later, and I'm still uninsured.  And I need that champagne cocktail.