$100

I lost a $100 bet to my son on Monday, and I was not happy. As I sat at my desk Wednesday morning, preparing an emergent application for the court on behalf of my child, I was $100 poorer and 5 days into a world where my son was without health insurance.

Last Friday afternoon, as we readied for a trip out of town, Richie retrieved the mail. When he returned, I knew I would not be sleeping well over the weekend (not that I sleep so well anyway). In the alternate universe known as the health insurance industry, a computer had generated a letter informing Richie that his insurance coverage had been terminated for non-payment of a premium. As always, in this universe, there is a story behind the story.

Several months ago, this same computer (I am not using it's name for fear of future litigation) had advised my son that he had underpaid his insurance premiums for the first 10 months of 2010. He was being retroactively charged almost $1500 due to the unfortunate oversight on the part of this computer. That, as one can imagine, did not sit well with Richie.

Soon, there was a letter being sent to the computer and to the state agency charged with serving and protecting the innocent from the ravages of the system. Chapter and verse of the numerous mistakes made by the computer were set forth. In relatively short order, the computer generated a response, admitting it had slipped up, and it was sorry. It would send a revised letter, correcting its erroneous attempt to collect these monies. Score 1 for the human, 0 for the computer.

The next communication from the computer was that it had now recalculated and determined that it owed my son almost $850. As a result, there was no premium due by him to the computer for the month of December, 2010. Score 2 for the human, 0 for the computer.

I spent the next few weeks in blissful ignorance, thinking that the computer was now sufficiently chastised and would dare not challenge my son again. I was wrong. In the middle of December the computer woke from its short slumber to announce that my son had failed to pay a premium of approximately $200 for that month, and if payment was not made within 10 days, Richie would join the world of the uninsured.

There was no explanation for what happened to the $850. There was no underlying invoice to explain how this $200 had been arrived at. There was just a computer doing what a computer does. Score 2 for the human and 1 for the computer.

And thus, the next round began. Richie spent extended periods on the phone, with humans trying their best not to explain to him how the computer had come to its conclusion. From one to the next, and then onward, without answer. The most the humans would say was that until they had a chance to speak with the computer and get it resolved, the computer would take no action to terminate Richie's health insurance coverage. This round was a draw.

For almost a month, we waited for the computer to explain itself. It must have been awfully busy, because it didn't seem to have time to provide an answer. And then it did. Last Friday. Score 2 for the human and 2 for the computer.

I have many obsessions. One of the biggest is insurance. I would insure my shoes if they offered coverage. I will buy any kind of protection from calamity. And now, at 4PM on a Friday afternoon, the computer was telling us that Richie had failed to make this $200 payment and was unwanted and cut off. He had in fact, been uninsured since December 27, 2010. It was January 21, 2011.

Through the years, I have tried to allay the concerns of my children in times of stress, by betting them $100 against $1, that certain things would (or would not) occur."If you don't get at least an A- in that class, I will pay you $100". It was meant as my way of telling them that whatever was causing them such consternation would shortly be nothing more than a bad dream. And so, on that Friday, I bet Richie $100 that his insurance coverage would be reinstated by the end of the next business day, Monday.

On Sunday evening, Richie wrote another of his impeccable letters, detailing the wrongs committed upon him, to the computer and to the state agency charged with serving and protecting the innocent from the ravages of the system. It was a tale of broken promises by humans and of a computer that couldn't shoot straight.

Monday morning, Richie and I were on the phone with the state agency charged with serving and protecting the innocent from the ravages of the system. After much blah, blah, blah the human who was most responsible for serving and protecting told us that it would take time for the computer to explain and correct itself. The human would do what she could to expedite, but the computer did what the computer did. Score 2 for the human and 3 for the computer.

And so, at the end of the day on Monday, I handed Richie a $100 bill. Not only had I been proven wrong, but I had to part with money, which is not a comfortable thing for me to do. Worst of all, I felt like I had let my son down.

By Tuesday, Richie and I were trying to determine where to go from here. After discussions with experts in the field, it was decided that the best course of action was to try to obtain other coverage for Richie, in case the computer was never able to determine how it did what it did. And that further attempts to talk to the computer, or to the state agency charged with serving and protecting the innocent from the ravages of the system were going to be pointless. Thus, I began the process of bringing an emergent request to the court to compel the computer to reinstate coverage for Richie.

Yesterday morning, I readied for battle. I dressed up in my ready for battle suit and tie. I put the finishing touches on the documents. I had to prove to Richie that I could protect him and that the $100 bet had not been a mistake by me, but merely that my timing had been slightly off.

I called the person charged with serving and protecting the computer from the attack of the humans. I advised her of the ongoing saga of the past several months and that I was dressed up in my ready for battle suit and tie. She sounded sympathetic to my situation and said she would investigate at once, and have an answer from the computer before the end of the day. It sounded almost too good to be true. A human who could actually speak to a computer.

Sure enough, before the end of business yesterday, I got a call back from the person charged with serving and protecting the computer from the attack of the humans. She announced that the computer had made a mistake and that it was now reinstating coverage for Richie, retroactive to the date of termination. An email arrived shortly thereafter, confirming the reinstatement and stating that the computer had now erased the $200 charge from the system. Score 3 for the humans, 3 for the computer.

And so, as of this morning, Richie is insured. While I slept a little better last night, rest still does not come easy. The computer has not yet decided what premium Richie owes for this year, and the computer is about to send that information to the state agency charged with serving and protecting the innocent from the ravages of the system. I am not betting Richie $100 that the computer is not planning another round of attacks.