“It’s a miracle, Bobby!”
Q-Dental is the dental organization our 282-Alumni (turn your sound off) negotiated lower pricing with.
The so-called “Alumni” are the union retirees (Local 282, the Rochester local of the nationwide Amalgamated Transit Union) of Regional Transit Service in Rochester, N.Y. (For 16&1/2 years [1977-1993] I drove transit bus for Regional Transit Service [RTS], the transit-bus operator in Rochester, NY.)
The Alumni was a reaction to the fact Transit management retirees ran roughshod over union retirees — a continuation of the bad vibes at Transit: management versus union.
Transit had a club for long-time employees, and I was in it.
It was called the “15/25-year Club;” I guess at first the “25-year Club.”
But they lowered the employment requirement, and renamed it “15/25-year Club.”
The employment requirement was lowered even more; I joined at 10 years.
My employ there ended in 1993 with my stroke; and the “Alumni” didn’t exist then.
The Alumni is a special club — you have to join.
For years we used the same dentist.
Long ago he pulled my impacted wisdom teeth (all four), and installed various porcelain fillings in front teeth.
But he’s advancing in age — older than us — and is loath to install recent technology.
For example, his dental X-rays are still film, and his receptionist is using a typewriter.
“Do you have any idea what it would cost to install digital X-ray? That’s a $30,000 investment. I can’t do that!”
But our Alumni had negotiated lower pricing with Q-Dental.
Transit has Blue Cross dental insurance for us retirees, but it’s piddling.
I’d have to make up the difference to our old dentist, almost $60 for a cleaning.
Plus Q-Dental was a tiny bit closer in location.
So we cut the cord; ending over 40 years with our old dentist.
I patronized Q-Dental six months ago as a new patient.
Immediately they took full digital X-rays, and there it was on their computer-screen.
VIOLA! What our old dentist should have been doing.
But there was confusion.
I wasn’t in their system as an Alumni, so I got charged the larger (non-Alumni) amount.
“Is this right?” I asked the Alumni vice-president.
“No it’s not,” he said. “Call them up and speak to Barb. Tell them you’re an Alumni.”
The second error is I got sent out without paying the difference.
Part of the Q-Dental angle is pay-as-you-leave.
They had to bill me — and billing costs them money.
So this visit (Tuesday, January 6, 2009) I pursued two things: -a) I wanted to be sure I was in their system as an Alumni, and -b) I wanted to settle up as I left.
So I flashed my Alumni membership card on arrival.
“What is that?” the clerk asked. “I’ve never seen that before in my entire life!”
“It’s my 282-Alumni membership card,” I said.
“Is that some kind of insurance?” she asked.
“No;” and so began my contorted attempt the explain what my card was, the usual incommunicado delivered in the broken speech of a stroke-survivor.
“Lemme see that. 282-Alumni; what is that?”
“I been through this before,” I said.
“Where? Here? Whodja talk to?”
“I don’t know; that was six months ago. I talked to an Office-Manager.”
“I’m the Office-Manager!” snapped the clerk.
She poked around, and determined I was in their system as an Alumni member. —I would get charged the lower Alumni rate.
Begin dental cleaning by Dental-Hygienist April Hartwell — a different person than six months ago; when it seemed like I was the only one in the store.
It seemed much like a cleaning at my old dentist; scraping and flossing and polishing with the drill-buffer.
No fearsome predictions of gloom and doom and impending periodontal disease, like last time.
“You want a toothbrush?” April asked. My old dentist’s hygienist asked the same thing. —The toothbrush advertised Q-Dental instead of my previous dentist.
“Sounds like Dr. Chu is prepping a patient. Wouldja like to wait a few minutes?”
Old dentist did that. Step in and jaw with the customers; swapping stories of his latest hunting adventure in Wyoming, and pillorying my newspaper employer. (My old dentist was a tub-thumping conservative.)
“Nope,” I said.
The only difference was technology; there was my digital X-ray on April’s laptop.
“Welcome to Dentisoft®,” said tiny yellow lettering in a thin iridescent green band at the top.
Dentisoft was a Microsoft Windows application, so every once in a while “NOW WHAT!?” and “why am I getting the hourglass?”
“Windoze® is probably calculating the value of Pi,” I’d say.
“What do I need that for? All I’m trying to do is bring up your dental X-ray,” April would say.
“Well, Windoze likes to do that,” I’d say. “Please wait.”
Finally, “we’re all done, Mr. Hughes.”
I stepped to the receptionist window leaving, attempting to pursue goal number two, which is settle up.
Utter confusion reigned.
“Alumni; what’s that? I’ve never seen that before. Call Sherri” (the office-manager).
Sherri opened a massive three-ring binder to the Alumni fee page.
“Total fee minus Blue Cross reimbursement equals $52.31.
But wait a minute! Our charge for a cleaning is less, so if we do it this other way, you owe only $40.”
Utterly lost, I paid $40.
Don’t know if my Alumni and/or Blue Cross were applying, but $40 versus $52.31.
“It’s a miracle, Bobby!”
The so-called “Alumni” are the union retirees (Local 282, the Rochester local of the nationwide Amalgamated Transit Union) of Regional Transit Service in Rochester, N.Y. (For 16&1/2 years [1977-1993] I drove transit bus for Regional Transit Service [RTS], the transit-bus operator in Rochester, NY.)
The Alumni was a reaction to the fact Transit management retirees ran roughshod over union retirees — a continuation of the bad vibes at Transit: management versus union.
Transit had a club for long-time employees, and I was in it.
It was called the “15/25-year Club;” I guess at first the “25-year Club.”
But they lowered the employment requirement, and renamed it “15/25-year Club.”
The employment requirement was lowered even more; I joined at 10 years.
My employ there ended in 1993 with my stroke; and the “Alumni” didn’t exist then.
The Alumni is a special club — you have to join.
For years we used the same dentist.
Long ago he pulled my impacted wisdom teeth (all four), and installed various porcelain fillings in front teeth.
But he’s advancing in age — older than us — and is loath to install recent technology.
For example, his dental X-rays are still film, and his receptionist is using a typewriter.
“Do you have any idea what it would cost to install digital X-ray? That’s a $30,000 investment. I can’t do that!”
But our Alumni had negotiated lower pricing with Q-Dental.
Transit has Blue Cross dental insurance for us retirees, but it’s piddling.
I’d have to make up the difference to our old dentist, almost $60 for a cleaning.
Plus Q-Dental was a tiny bit closer in location.
So we cut the cord; ending over 40 years with our old dentist.
I patronized Q-Dental six months ago as a new patient.
Immediately they took full digital X-rays, and there it was on their computer-screen.
VIOLA! What our old dentist should have been doing.
But there was confusion.
I wasn’t in their system as an Alumni, so I got charged the larger (non-Alumni) amount.
“Is this right?” I asked the Alumni vice-president.
“No it’s not,” he said. “Call them up and speak to Barb. Tell them you’re an Alumni.”
The second error is I got sent out without paying the difference.
Part of the Q-Dental angle is pay-as-you-leave.
They had to bill me — and billing costs them money.
So this visit (Tuesday, January 6, 2009) I pursued two things: -a) I wanted to be sure I was in their system as an Alumni, and -b) I wanted to settle up as I left.
So I flashed my Alumni membership card on arrival.
“What is that?” the clerk asked. “I’ve never seen that before in my entire life!”
“It’s my 282-Alumni membership card,” I said.
“Is that some kind of insurance?” she asked.
“No;” and so began my contorted attempt the explain what my card was, the usual incommunicado delivered in the broken speech of a stroke-survivor.
“Lemme see that. 282-Alumni; what is that?”
“I been through this before,” I said.
“Where? Here? Whodja talk to?”
“I don’t know; that was six months ago. I talked to an Office-Manager.”
“I’m the Office-Manager!” snapped the clerk.
She poked around, and determined I was in their system as an Alumni member. —I would get charged the lower Alumni rate.
Begin dental cleaning by Dental-Hygienist April Hartwell — a different person than six months ago; when it seemed like I was the only one in the store.
It seemed much like a cleaning at my old dentist; scraping and flossing and polishing with the drill-buffer.
No fearsome predictions of gloom and doom and impending periodontal disease, like last time.
“You want a toothbrush?” April asked. My old dentist’s hygienist asked the same thing. —The toothbrush advertised Q-Dental instead of my previous dentist.
“Sounds like Dr. Chu is prepping a patient. Wouldja like to wait a few minutes?”
Old dentist did that. Step in and jaw with the customers; swapping stories of his latest hunting adventure in Wyoming, and pillorying my newspaper employer. (My old dentist was a tub-thumping conservative.)
“Nope,” I said.
The only difference was technology; there was my digital X-ray on April’s laptop.
“Welcome to Dentisoft®,” said tiny yellow lettering in a thin iridescent green band at the top.
Dentisoft was a Microsoft Windows application, so every once in a while “NOW WHAT!?” and “why am I getting the hourglass?”
“Windoze® is probably calculating the value of Pi,” I’d say.
“What do I need that for? All I’m trying to do is bring up your dental X-ray,” April would say.
“Well, Windoze likes to do that,” I’d say. “Please wait.”
Finally, “we’re all done, Mr. Hughes.”
I stepped to the receptionist window leaving, attempting to pursue goal number two, which is settle up.
Utter confusion reigned.
“Alumni; what’s that? I’ve never seen that before. Call Sherri” (the office-manager).
Sherri opened a massive three-ring binder to the Alumni fee page.
“Total fee minus Blue Cross reimbursement equals $52.31.
But wait a minute! Our charge for a cleaning is less, so if we do it this other way, you owe only $40.”
Utterly lost, I paid $40.
Don’t know if my Alumni and/or Blue Cross were applying, but $40 versus $52.31.
“It’s a miracle, Bobby!”
posted by BobbaLew at 7:39 AM
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