Artaya Downs

I could have killed myself, and I did contemplate it for a little bit. But, I am kind of glad I didn’t follow through because then I never would have encountered Artaya Downs.

A couple of weeks ago I received a bill from Virginia Neurosurgeons for about $4,000. Every now and then, I receive a bill for the services Cindy received when I did not have her insurance information available. And if there is one thing you can count on in the health care industry is that they are going to be diligent about collecting their money. No less than 48 hours after Cindy went into the hospital, I started receiving bills for anything and everything related to the ambulance ride. Not one bill mind you, but a bill for each various component. I got a bill from the fire department, from the paramedics, from the doctors that saw her upon arrival.

Most of the bills I am able to take care of by calling the provider and supplying her insurance information over the phone. But, the Virginia Neurosurgeons group were unique in that they did not accept Cindy’s insurance. When the woman on the phone told me this, I laughed and said “Are you kidding me? She has Blue Cross Blue Shield? Who doesn’t take that?” After a few seconds of silence, the woman responded “We don‘t take that.”

I could feel my body tense up in the same way it might for someone who has just been told that they are going to need dental surgery. I assumed I was in for a long, painful, and expensive experience. After I hung up the phone, I wasn’t sure what to do. Who was I supposed to battle about this? The Virginia Neurosurgeons only cared about getting paid. And calling Blue Cross seemed as straightforward as walking through a corn maze.

When Cindy was admitted to the hospital, they had me sign about a dozen forms--none of which I read. I mean, what difference would it have made to read them? If I had to sign away my 2 arms and an ear, I would have done it. Basically most of what I was signing for was the understanding that if Cindy or Cindy’s insurance could not pay for her services that I would be responsible for the payment. I decided to call Blue Cross directly.

I must have done one good thing in my life because out of all the insurance representatives that could have answered my call at that moment, I got Ms. Artaya Downs.

“Hello, how may I help you?”

“Hi, my name is Jennifer and I received a bill for my partner and she has great insurance. Your insurance in fact. But, the provider is telling me that they don’t accept your insurance. I am sure this must be a mistake. I mean, who doesn’t accept Blue Cross Blue Shield.”

“What is your partner’s name?”

“Cindy R. She died and I am calling on her behalf because I am responsible for this bill. And I blame the Virginia Neurosurgeons group for her death because they obviously have incredibly low standards—”

“Oh, Ms. Jennifer, I am so sorry for your loss. I am sure you must be dealing with a lot now.”

“It’s so hard. I miss her so much."

“How much is the bill for?”

“A little more than $4000. I don’t understand why its not covered by her insurance. Everything else was covered 100%. I am doing my best trying to take care of everything, but the paperwork is killing me. I just don’t know who to fight on this. And I am so tired. I don‘t know what to—”

“If you don’t mind holding, let me see what I can do for you. And again, I am so sorry.”

I thought for sure Artaya would never come back. I was positive that my loquaciousness convinced Artaya that I was completely insane. When I am nervous, the words will just keep coming out regardless if they are sensible or not. But, to my surprise, she returned after 15 minutes.

“Ms. Jennifer. I think I found a way out of this for you.”

“What? Are you serious?”

“Was Cindy ever competent when she was in the hospital?”

“No, she never acted on her own behalf while she was hospitalized.”

“Well, then she could not deny service either. And, if she knew Virginia Neurosurgeons did not accept her insurance, then she might have denied their services.”

“That’s right. She was totally cheap. She would NEVER have agreed to pay for something she might have otherwise gotten for free. Never!”

“So, because she had the aneurysm and the doctors had to make decisions for her care and because she couldn‘t deny services, we’ll take care of this bill for you. You don’t need to worry about it . . . Ma‘am, are you there? Hello?”

“I can’t believe this. What is your name? I need to write a letter to your supervisor. I think you are the best person in the world. You are an angel.”

“My name is Artaya Downs and I don’t want you to worry about this bill. In fact, if you get any more bill like this, call my direct work line.”

After Artaya gave me her number, as well as the hours she works during the day (to ensure that I would reach her), I broke down on the phone with her and started sobbing. I was not crying about Cindy, but for this unexpected act of kindness from a complete stranger.

After I bid goodbye to Artaya, I drafted a 2-page letter to her supervisor about my situation, about how thoughtful Artaya was for actually expressing condolences, and how experiences like this make me excited to live each new day. I mean, what if I had gotten someone else on the phone? Most people would have just done the bare minimum and not taken the extra time to find the loopholes.

Was life always this surprising? Am I only now realizing this? Did you all know this?