A friend once told me that if you hang around experts in any field long enough, you can probably fake your way into a job.  I was skeptical at first, until I found out that after years of dating computer geeks, she landed a system administration job at a Fortune 500 company, and has since moved up to director.

The past 5 years have only reinforced the above notion.  I’m pretty sure that not only can I describe how the sodium-potassium pump works, but if held at gunpoint, I may even be able to recite how the Krebs cycle functions, intubate a patient, put him to sleep, and give them Versed to forget it ever happened.  And this with barely a 7th grade biology class under my belt.

However, as exciting as drug induced anesthesia sounds, it is not nearly as interesting as passing out under your own effort while an entire cadre of cyclists pass you by; consequently, this is about something else entirely.

Late fall is the time of the year when professional athletes are usually looking for a sponsor.  I’ve been around professional athletes long enough to recognize the late autumn jitters when scoring a sponsor, a team, or a new contract.  I’ve heard both sides of the negotiation long enough, that I’m now beginning to think that I should get myself a sponsor, just in case software engineering doesn’t work as expected.  After all, you need some sort of backup, financial diversification of sorts, and multiple streams of income as it’s called nowadays.

After speaking with Jason and Hadji, I realized that sponsors are not as interested in a podium athlete, inasmuch as a good story that sells.  Who cares about the shy guy on the top of the podium with no story?  We’re more interested on the one-legged professional jump-roper who overcame an abusive father, an ugly girlfriend, has a VO2max of 20, but at the very least can write entertaining prose and has lots of Facebook friends.  That, my friends, is me: a free-agent cyclist with absolutely no wins (apart from Strava records on climbs no one knows about), a shitty bike, the body of a starving east-Kenyan runner, and a blog that roughly translated means “fuck it, I’m doing it anyhow”.

So… I drafted my proposal to RA Racing Apparel, so I could champion their brand.  I would race in the lowest of the cycling categories, would even do charity speed walking events (with pizzazz), and would look anorexic like real endurance athletes.  I explained to my sponsor that readers have more in common with me, the every day man, than with a 130lbs cyclist that climbs Alp d’Huez in under 42 minutes.  Who are you more likely to see on the street and ask “why, where did you buy that jersey”?  Cadel Evans, Lance Armstrong, or a middle of the pack cat 5 racer that looks cool in tights?  Seriously, this is a no brainer.

Anyways, after much hand waving and negotiating, RA Racing Apparel has agreed to sponsor all my events in exchange for parading their clothing brand and reporting on races I will most definitely suck at. All while agreeing that I can’t really train that much, because physical exercise lowers the blood flow to my brain, thus rendering my day job activities worthless.  Oh…and of course, to be considered a professional athlete, one needs actual money, clothes alone won’t do. So we’re in the process of negotiating a salary– somewhere between $1 and $2/month.  I already have a letter of intent!

So stay tuned, because I’ll be living in the RV, traveling to races, drinking Gatorade mixed with whiskey, and trying not to get upgraded to a more serious category.

I’ve been boycotting flying with my bicycle for quite some time.  The exorbitant $300 round trip fees has had me looking for alternative measures.

This weekend on my way up north (and for us South Texans, north is anywhere north Falfurrias, the US Border Control checkpoint 70 miles north of the border).. I decided to fly.  The bicycle had to come along, but via Greyhound bus, for a cool $40.  Since the bike pump couldn’t fit comfortably in the crammed box, I decided to take it as a carry-on– big mistake!

Everyone was amused with the bike pump until I arrived at the TSA checkpoint.  I was grilled as to why I was traveling with a bike pump, given that I wasn’t traveling with a bike.  I offered them 300 different reasons, but then they got confused as to why I didn’t check it as baggage.  I explained the economics of checking in a $30 pump for $30.  I *thought* they understood, but then there was some mumbling and hand waving, until the manager came to inspect the bike pump.  There was a quick shake of the head, and I was told that it was a big metallic object.  I tried to explain that it was really a hard plastic covered in metallic paint, but the TSA agent was unimpressed with my high school grasp of materials and chemistry.

I asked if they could keep it while my wife came to pick it up, but I was denied (in my defense, this has worked before).  The TSA agent kindly pointed me to the Department of Aviation office, where she suggested I drop off the pump for someone to pick up.

The Department of Aviation attendant, on the other hand, informed me that he couldn’t take the pump because of liability.  I asked if there was any other way, to which the agent responded… “I can’t take it per se, but if you give it to a TSA agent, they can bring it back as a lost-and-found object, and I can take it from them.”.  I breathed deeply, closed my eyes, and asked… “ok, you want me to `lose’ the pump in front of the agent so they can take it to lost-and-found which is in your office, and *then* my wife can pick it up from you?”.

“Exactly!”.

Unable to indulge this stupidity I went back to the ticketing agent who told me she would have to charge me $30 to check-in my $30 pump. I kindly declined, but after listening to my sob story, she offered to keep the pump if someone could pick it up within the hour.  At this point, I called my wife…

[I’d like to take a brief pause from this this account to explain that the Spanish phrase for air pump is “bomba de aire”.  For those with either insufficient imagination or mono-linguistic limitations, the exact phrase can be (incorrectly) translated as “air bomb”.  You can probably guess where this is going.]

As luck with have it, a TSA agent was passing right by the ticketing counter while I was on the phone with Yano.  In no time flat, after I was done explaining to Yano to come pick up the “air bomb” I wasn’t allowed to pass through security, the TSA agent tapped me on the shoulder, and sternly said “please follow me…”.

Yup… full cavity search once again, and I wasn’t even sporting a beard this time.

Man, I’m going to miss these intimate encounters when I move up north.

Every time I use my health insurance card, some one steals from me.  This isn’t a figure of speech.  This isn’t me exaggerating.  This is the cold hard truth.  This isn’t something that happens in Puerto Rico, or Florida, or Texas.  It has happened everywhere I’ve used my Cigna card.  And frankly, this isn’t even something specific to Cigna.  When I had Blue Cross Blue Shield, it was the same thing.

Follow me through how I used my insurance twice in the span of a week and a half, and got over charged a total of $1700, while EVERYONE from the tech, to the doctor, to the health insurance company took a bigger slice of the pie they were entitled to.

First, some background.  My insurance covers one free physical a year, so I usually partake in this luxury.  And while I was out (I don’t get out much), I decided to check the repetitive strain injury I have acquired from years of typing.  Yano hooked me up with an unnamed colleague of hers specializing in hands, so I decided to visit two doctors in one day.

Since we are relatively healthy, we have a high-deductible health insurance plan with a health savings account (HSA).  Which means that the first $6000 of the year are on us, and it comes out of our HSA account.  This is the only reason I notice when we get overcharged, because I see the balance instantly diminish on mistakes.

A few weeks after my visit I got an explanation of benefits from Cigna in which I saw a total of approximately $3000 that came out of my HSA.  WTF?

THE PRIMARY CARE PHYSICIAN

The primary care physician ordered $400 worth of labs.  I had to call him and ask for a complete break down so I could follow up with Cigna.  The physician even charged $25 for walking the blood, literally, across the street to the lab.  Of course, they chose the most expensive lab.  Though, I can’t fault them, because considering the proximity to their office, I can understand the convenience.

As is usually the case, the primary care physician is at fault for very little of what actually gets charged, but is nevertheless responsible for some…

A few calls to Cigna revealed that because the labs were out-of-network, they had paid the entire amount (out of my savings account).  I explained that I went to an in-network physician, and they proceeded to adjust the claim.  Savings: $400.  In reality, however, I could’ve gone to any number of labs across the city to get my CBC and lipid panel done for a tenth of the cost, saving my fellow Cignites copious amounts of health insurance premiums– but that’s a separate problem.  In reality, the lab over charged, the plan over paid, and the physician didn’t have the common sense to send the lab to a more economical place.  This is what’s called in economics, moral hazard: the cookie jar ain’t mine, so I don’t care who takes the cookies.

THE ORTHOPEDIC SURGEON

Upon entry to the orthopedic surgeon’s office, my HSA credit card got swiped, as a “precautionary” measure, just in case my health insurance didn’t cover enough.  The secretary then informed me I needed to have an in-house X-ray.  I politely explained that I had no broken bones, and that I was coming for a repetitive injury I had had for a decade.  The secretary insisted.  I explained a possible neuropathy of the ulnar nerve, to which I got a glazed look, and a repeat of the obvious– “you need an xray; it’s standard procedure”.  I stood my ground and told her “if after I see the doctor, he would like me to get an x-ray, I will do so”.  That was the end of THAT over-billing, or so I thought…

Weeks later, the ortho’s office calls me and informs me that they are reversing a $300 charge, for something they over billed.  Whuuut?  I was told that they over billed “just in case” my insurance wouldn’t cover everything, and that they were reimbursing me $300.  I got suspicious and went back to my HSA statement, where I found that not only was I over charged $300, but I was billed twice for $97, and some neurologist I had never met charged me $1970.

Being the cool cat that I am, I decided to ignore the $397 I was over-charged, and concentrate on the $2000 on my bill.  To my surprise, the ortho’s office had no idea who this neurologist was.  After some detective work I realized it was the neurologist that read the nerve conductivity test (EMG) at the ortho’s office.  Ironically, the ortho’s office disassociated themselves from the neurologist and claimed they didn’t know who he was, and were in no way associated with him– that they only rented out the space to his staff.  Fair enough, I would call him directly…

THE NEUROLOGIST

I had a nerve conductivity test done by a lab tech, with 20 year old equipment.  The procedure required $5 worth of needles, lasted 15 minutes, and the neurologist who never saw me, charged $1970.  Fair enough, I work from home.  I applaud working in your underwear.  What didn’t make sense was the $1970.

The explanation of benefits from Cigna showed 4 labs and 3 supplies.  Since I called another neurologist friend of mine, I knew the needles didn’t cost more than $5, so I couldn’t wrap my mathematical mind around $100 worth of “supplies”.  Cigna couldn’t tell me what the individual charges where because of “privacy” concerns.  They said I must call the doctor’s office directly and ask them.   Hmmm… so here I am, getting charged $1970, and the entity (Cigna) who took the money from my account can’t even tell me what it’s for.  So…

After much googling, I find a suitable phone number, and call the neurologist.  I explain my predicament, but they have no record of me.  I am told I will be called by the billing department, but after a week, I receive no calls.  I call them multiple times, and eventually break down and tell them I will call my insurance company, say the charges are fraudulent, and reverse the charges.  I get a call back within 5 minutes.

They had no record of me.  No one could explain why they had charged what they charged.  At one point they wanted me to send them my explanation of benefits, to which I politely declined.  If they didn’t know what they charged me for, I sure as hell was not going to make it easy for them to make shit up.

Eventually I got a call back from the outsourced company who did their billing, who found that the doctor had indeed received a payment for $1970, but due to some “unexplained” reason, the payment had bypassed the office altogether.  The billing company told me not to worry because my insurance had paid everything.  I explained the way high-deductible plans with HSA’s worked and how it had all come out of my savings account.  Silence on the other side… All of a sudden, the caller turned apologetic and said $1970 was way too much, and that they would resolve this with the doctor’s office.  So wait, $1970 is way too much if a human has to pay for it, but if a health insurance plan pays for it, then it’s ok?

Eventually I got on a conference call with the billing company and the doctor’s office, who at one point asked me if I had had a sleep study done.  At no point would they tell me what they had actually billed me for…

To make the long story short, they are in the process of reimbursing me well over half of what they charged.

Conclusions…

Total saved by numerous phone calls $1,700.

The frustrating thing is that I had to hunt down billing departments, medical plans, doctor’s offices, and at one point I had to physically get the copy of the doctor’s order requesting the EMG.  This by no means is within the realm of say, my grandmother, when she visits the doctor.  And this all happened within a week.  And this happens every fucking time I use my health insurance card.

This wasn’t at all weighted on the neurologist’s side.  Everyone involved tried to take a bigger slice of the pie.  Fortunately for the neurologist, he had a broader variety of procedures he could charge for.  But every single entity involved from day one bit as much as they could take in, in one mouthful.

The MD’s shall remain unnamed, because I think it would be unfair for me to single any of  them out, when EVERYONE is doing this shit.  The entire system is broken, and has evolved into an over billing fiasco.  The labs are over paid (when they get paid).  The doctors are over paid (when they get paid).  The hospitals are over paid (when they get paid).  When the cookie jar is open, every one will grab some cookies.  Unfortunately, there is enough overhead, and enough groups of people (rich and poor) not paying, that it offsets this over payment for the providers involved.  But this doesn’t make it right… it’s wrong, and it’s broken.

And if you think it doesn’t affect you because you have a low deductible– surprise, everyone else on your plan is picking up your slack.  We all pay for it– either in higher insurance premiums, or in higher taxes (medicaid/medicare), or any combination of the above.

It is such a big pity that the last four years were spent with Republicans bitching about Obamacare, instead of offering an actual counter proposal that would actually work.

Oh that both sides could work together for the common good.  But as long as everyone that is reaching into the cookie jar is lobbying in congress, there will be no respite.

The exercise dictator decided to take it easy.  I only had to run 7 miles before a breakfast of coffee and toast.  What I didn’t know was that it would be followed by a Free Walking Tour of Krakow (which I was told, is not pronounced “Crack-hoe”). The walking tour was quite enjoyable, and I only starting feeling dizzy at the end of the 2.5 hour walk. Unfortunately, it was so good, that the boss decided to do another walking tour, this time through the Jewish Quarter of the city. This is how another 4 torturous miles started. To add insult to injury, we were so late to catch our next train that we had to jog another 2 miles to the train station with 50 lbs on our backs (damn heavy laptop).

Obviously, we collapsed after pretty much an entire day running, jogging, or walking, all on a few slices of toast and a quick lunch at McDonald’s. I’m sure I’ll need no sleeping pills on the flight to London…

It’s amazing how much sightseeing you can do if you cover 6-8 miles before the throng of tourists gets out.  You see, I’m accompanied by the exercise Nazi who is awake at the crack of dawn, running shoes on, and not taking no for an answer.  So now instead of walking tours, I’m subjected to a running tour of the city centers and ancillary streets, while other sane people on vacation are sleeping, or at worst sitting half asleep in a picturesque coffee shop.

I’ve run the streets of Vienna, Budapest, Prague, and an assortment of other smaller towns.  And if Yano had her way, we would’ve done a couple laps around the Auschwitz-Birkenau concentration camp, as would be fitting her non-negotiable running nature.  Luckily, the Polish were not as amused at a whip wielding wife forcing her husband to run at slightly above anaerobic pace.

In other news, we are in Krakow, Poland, having done a tour of the Auschwitz camps.  I am not much of a tour or museum person (with the exception of the Louvre, the Uffizi, and the Cairo Museum), but the visit to Auschwitz will take your breath away.  If there is anything that made this entire trip worth it, it was those 2 hours and 45 minutes.  Words cannot do justice to it.  Suffice to say, that it was the first time I saw a groups of hundreds of people speechless for an entire afternoon.