My dear friend Red Jesus owes me a rather sizable sum of money and when I bought pizza tonight, it bumped up the tab ten bucks. "That's $83 you owe me now," I reminded him.

Being the kind of person who doesn't like having debt hanging over his head, Red Jesus reached for his wallet. He didn't have the $83 on him--but he had some cash and wanted to make a dent in his outstanding debt. "Here ya go," he said and handed me some cash.

"Three bucks?" I said to him.

"You'll get your money," he said, tying to justify the smallest good-faith payment the world has ever seen. With deadbeats like that, who needs enemies?

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Let's dive into a quickie about the health care industry. Since Dr. Zaius and Sacred Heart Hospital tried killing me (which is another story I'd like to tell--but we'll save that for different day), I wanna see a different doctor regarding my deviated septum. I don't know why it took me two months to contact the insurance (maybe it's because deep-down, I knew it'd be a pain in the ass). I called the insurance and explained my situation. Dr. Zaius said I had a deviated septum. I wanted to get it fixed--only not through him; not at Sacred Heart. That was more trouble than I hoped. They wanted to know what was wrong with the doctor I had (uh, he tried to kill me). The insurance told me I had to talk to my general practitioner and get him to refer me to a different doctor.

I dread calls to the doctor's office because the administrative staff there is a collection of retarded monkeys. Leaving a message there is like trying to shine a flashlight through a black hole. I called 'em at 11, fully expecting to never hear back from them.

Surprisingly, I did. I had to explain my situation again...and this is where it gets kinda complicate. See, my general practitioner didn't refer me to get a tonsillectomy--a sleep specialist did. This was all news to the technician (according to his charts, I had a pair of full and healthy tonsils). He asked me what was wrong with Sacred Heart and Zaius (geez, can't a guy get a second opinion). After finally grasping the situation, he said he'd call me back.

...which led to a phone call from my general practitioner. I had to explain the situation a third time (evil doctor, hospital partial to death). My doctor was clearly smarter than the three previous people I spoke to. I only had to explain my situation to him once and he was able to understand it. He gave me the name of a different doctor, but said I had no choice but to go through Sacred Heart because my insurance wouldn't cover any other hospital.

And this is why I hate insurance. Miles, and miles of red tape. Bureaucrats and administrators. I couldn't talk to my doctor from the beginning because that's not how things are done. Instead, I gotta deal with buffoons--all in the name of 'cost-efficiency.' Jump through hoops and here's your fish.

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