A week ago, I wrote a Slice about two sets of hospital doctors'
bills for my husband — one set I’d paid last month, and the second set, 10
pages long, including both the old charges and new ones. A friendly woman in
the hospital’s billing office said she would send me an amended statement for
only the new charges.
On Monday,
I received two statements, one nine pages long, the other 12 pages. Again, each
statement contained charges I know I’ve paid. Today, I went through all four
statements, marking the charges I’ve paid, adding up the charges I haven’t. The
total was about $30 less than either of the amounts on the statements I got a
couple of days ago.
So once
again, I called the hospital’s billing office and talked to another friendly
woman. She had an explanation that made no sense to me for why the check I’d
sent hadn’t been applied to two of the doctors’ charges. I kept trying to
understand, she kept repeating her “explanation.” In the end, I decided to stop
arguing and just say I would send a check for the amount I think I owe, and she
laughed and conceded that there was some problem with the way payments were
applied to charges.
These
are the kind of life details that are so boring and so annoying. Yet they also
became a test of attitude. Shall I become angry and obsessed over some weird
computer glitch, or just pay what I think I owe and let the problem roll off my back? I am following path #2, and I feel much better.
