The Billing Department at the End of the Universe – an open letter
Dear Billing and Collections Department at Our Lady of Tiger Football Hospital in Baton Rouge, La –
Oh how I’ve enjoyed our correspondence! It has been absolutely lovely getting to know you. Ever since my visit to the emergency room in August, we’ve been back and forth, but mostly forth seeing as how I haven’t written you back with that check you’ve been oh so politely requesting. And no, you can’t have my Visa number. A gentleman wouldn’t ask and a lady never tells.
In our phone conversations I was unyielding in my assertion that the injury I sustained at work, the one for which I sought treatment at your fine facility and the one for which you are now billing me, was a matter best settled between you and my former employer’s workers’ comp insurance company. You were equally insistent that the conflict at hand was between you and my wallet. My poor wallet has been cowering in my purse ever since you made this allegation and it will take many months of counseling before it makes a complete recovery. Even then, it will be but a shadow of its former self, always looking over its shoulder, wondering if somewhere out there a hospital billing department employee making minimum wage with no benefits is licking a prepaid envelope addressed to me with a bill in it for between $150 and $200.
Recently, you decided to include your good friend and professional associate the Collections Agency in our continued correspondence. I really appreciate that. The more, the merrier. I’m sure I’ll cherish all of the good times we shared (the curt messages from blocked numbers, the indistinct white envelopes with no return address printed on them) and I’ll look back on these memories with fondness and nostalgia every time I check my credit report.
Unfortunately, it seems that our communication will be coming to an end. My former employer is straightening out the mishap that brought you and I (and Collections) together and soon it will be time to say goodbye. I will miss you so very much and wish you all the best in your future endeavors in the area of ripping patients off and screwing up their credit.
All my love,
Morgan (the chick that came in with no feeling in her left arm)
Bowl of Popcorn 