He was prudent, and smart, and planned ahead: he bought a long-term care policy, for himself and for his wife. And he made the payments for them, always on time, month after month, year after year.
She died long before she needed assisted living or a nursing home, so the insurance company won that bet and got to pocket the money. He spent the last year in a nursing home, and died without ever seeing a single dollar from his insurer.
Oh, I have lots of paperwork from them. And they're unfailingly polite and professional when I call. But the answer is always that "we'll have to research it" and then there is only silence: no call, no fax, no letter. And then time passes, and the process repeats. When I ask if there is someone, anyone, anywhere in the entire company who can take ownership of the problem and work the case through, they tell me no, that the way they're set up doesn't work that way. Nobody is responsible. Nobody is accountable.
But they're still very good at sending the bills for the policy -- even though its terms say that while he's in a nursing home, premiums are waived.
I could get an attorney...if I had the money to pay for one, and the time to explain the whole thing, and the hope that maybe something would happen eventually.
I could call his agent...but I have. He just tells me to call the corporate office. Every time.
I could write them...but I have. I always get back a single piece of paper acknowledging receipt of my letter. That's it.
And so I've been one of the lucky ones: lucky because I figured out how to cover $3500 a month so that he could stay, and how to pay the $280 a month in premiums for the insurance coverage that isn't covering -- which I had to do to stop the threatening notices and the impact on his credit, something that he worried about until the end. I blew through savings in the first month, and then started dipping into my retirement, which is long gone. I took a second job, and then a part-time third. And I'm only about $4500 behind on the bills at the moment, so not too bad. I know other people have it MUCH worse.
But I had to keep working, here, at all three jobs, so I couldn't go see him, there. If they ever do pay the claim, that's not something they can give back to me. He's gone.
So now I will go and bury him. If I'm lucky, my second and third jobs will still be here when I get back, so I can finish paying the bills. And maybe, eventually, the insurance company that happily accepted his checks for 14 years will get around to delivering what the paperwork he signed says they will: "caring service to you and your loved ones".
Update and epilogue: It's been a very long day, starting with that 2:15 AM phone call whose message I knew before I picked up the phone. I apologize for not responding to more of the comments: I really have tried to read them all, and to take away as much counsel and support as I can...and there's been a lot of it. Thank you. Thank you all. If you take anything at all from this, please take the willingness to fight for health care for all: there are so very many people who would not have been as fortunate as me -- who are not are fortunate as me and are facing awful decisions today as a result. Help them. And when I can find my strength, I'll join you and stand shoulder-to-shoulder with you.
The sun's going down, and I'm thinking of times like this when I was a little boy, and we'd play catch until it got too dark to see the ball. Maybe a little later, some nights. I've made my travel plans, and packed my bags, and picked my old baseball glove off the shelf just to smell the leather and dirt. Tomorrow, or the day after, or the day after, I'll figure out what to do about this insurance mess. Tonight...I'm gonna stand outside and imagine playing catch halfway across the continent.