Heavenly Beverley : Testy Tanties For Testing Times

I have always adored the word "testy". Needless to say, my darling Dad was the first person to introduce me to this delicious little adjective. Testy was about the limit for Dad; he was slow to anger and rarely raised his voice or expressed his displeasure, certainly not with the forceful trumpeting that I have been known to employ.

When Dad was testy, he would grit his teeth or roll his eyes or even belch. There was no point in saying anything else, as his testiness was usually aimed at some twit who didn't know any better. Dad did not suffer fools, deceit or injustice. I knew I was in strife if he called me by my full name. No other explanation was necessary.

This week, I have suffered from rather a lot of testiness, and unlike Dad, I have proceeded to many full-throttled tanties. These explosions have been precipitated by the stark realisation that making informed decisions isn't possible if ommissions have been at play.

Are ommissions the same as lies? Are verbal ommissions permissible when a hinted explanation in tiny writing is visible? Where do I stand if I believe that I was unable to make such a decision if I was not cognisant of all the facts? Who else will be caught if I don't question a flawed system?

Smugness really does come before a fall. I had just finished congratulating myself after a marathon few weeks examining all our insurance policies and creating as many savings as possible. The building insurance was a Bridge Too Far. We are apparently on quite a good wicket with that figure. Does anybody else shudder when contemplating a bill of $4800 every year? Which we must have for our artists' works. Somehow, we always have to find that money.

Health insurance is like buying a lottery ticket. For us, health insurance has become a no-brainer. Sure, emergency events like accidents, heart attacks and strokes will always be treated immediately in a public hospital. But then there are episodes such as Michael needing a designer label triple stent in his abdominal aorta before his circulation was compromised any further. My knee replacement happened within days rather than months or years. I have friends waiting in agony for joint replacements on the public list. Their conditions are not life-threatening so they are given no choice but to put up with untold disability for as long as it takes.

I have seen first hand the difference between care in a public hospital as opposed to a private hospital when Michael was in one end and Alex in the other. Staffing, access to the doctors, speed of diagnosis and treatment were - mostly - slower in public wards. The main exceptions are private hospitals with no emergency departments. Beware of those places.

Comparing health insurers is like entering a labyrinth of giant shouting advertisements. Confusion reigns loud and clear. Initially, I tried to check each health fund through their websites. Total disaster and a shortcut to brainiac overload. So I sourced my information through a marketing company. I did not sign up to a different insurer at the conclusion of that conversation. Instead, I checked Bupa's website carefully before we discussed the situation and chose to change. I double-checked by spending an hour in the Joondalup office with a staff member. I received a print out that confirmed the new charges. Before I departed Bupa's office, I asked if the premium was set at that figure. At no time was I told that there could be a potential spanner in the works.

I was giddy with glee at saving forty dollars every two weeks. The first payment - a month's charge - went through without a hitch. The promised, and not quite believable $182.88 fortnightly payment seemed in the bag. Oh, silly me.

I opened the accounts on Wednesday morning and was immediately alarmed at the figures. All my careful budgeting for this fortnight promptly disappeared out the window. The health insurer had taken $224.07.

That's when I swung in action and rang the insurer. Over twenty-four hours and four phone calls, I discovered a nasty surprise called Lifetime Health Cover loading. Because Michael hasn't been insured for hospital insurance for ten years yet, (that ticks over in four months) he is penalised with this loading. Which raised our premium from the expected $182.88 to $224.07.

My complaint revolves around this loading. I foolishly assumed that the premium was cast in stone. As I pointed out, I would not have changed health funds to save $10 a fortnight. Customers Relations is investigating, which will take until Tuesday and include vetting my phone conversation with the marketing company.

Yep. Bupa is going to listen to my phone call with the marketer. Which I can't do. So I will have to take their word and their conclusions about a call made a month ago to a third party. Not happy, Jan.

What outcome do I wish? That Bupa honours the original quote for our health insurance. I'm hoping for the best whilst accepting that scenario is somewhere between nil and Buckley's.

Stay tuned!