Tag: Rant

Please Scrutinize Your Healthcare Bills, People.

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I say this as a person who has been in the medical field for 23 years, and who was a medical biller for 10 of them.

AI Generated Image: A Black woman is sitting and reviewing a medical bill. She has a frustrated look as her long curly hair layers lovingly around her face. She is wearing a soft version of a purple top and the background is blurred out.

Earlier today, I had to place a call to my insurance carrier and have them call the billing department for my provider’s office because I have been billed twice for services rendered on the same date.

Disclaimer: I had one appointment on the date mentioned below, and it was for my annual exam only, which is a service covered at 100% by my insurance plan.

I went for my annual exam on 02/18/25 and my provider’s office coded the actual annual exam, it was processed and covered at 100% and paid accordingly, but they also billed me for a 99214 code which is the second to last CPT code for an established patient office visit. One of the highest billed charges for an established patient for in-office services.

Now, I know these people didn’t think they’d get someone who did medical billing for 10 years calling them today with a representative from their insurance carrier, but they got the WRONG one and the RIGHT one today.

My insurance representative informed the billing representative who took the call that they will need to send a corrected claim to reflect the annual exam only (which means, they’re going to end up having to refund the payment for that OV (office visit) code they billed incorrectly, too) and the bill I received from them for $30.00 is currently being held or contested until after the coding review.

I don’t play when it comes to my bills and you DARN sure ain’t gon’ get me because I scrutinize every EOB that is emailed to me. And I do so happily because I have seen way too many people pay bills without actually reviewing them and matching them up with their insurance policy’s coverage and benefits.

People, please review your healthcare bills with a fine-toothed comb. Ensure what you receive is correct and on par with what YOU KNOW is in line with the services rendered.

I was informed I should receive an updated bill and resolution in 7 to 10 business days.

My inner Ghetto Queen is saying, “BAYBAY, I will R O L L up to their corporate office at the hospital and ACT A WHOLE FOOL over $30.00. You not gon’ get me for preventative services that’s covered at 100% with my plan. Nah, nah. You remove that OV code, send a corrected claim, and give my insurance carrier back their refund when it’s all said and done. And don’t do it, and watch me email the CEO of that hospital organization.”

Be on the lookout, beautiful people. Take care of yourself and make sure no one is taking advantage of you and your medical benefits. It’s only going to get worse as time moves forward under this current administration. Mark my words. Stay vigilant, loves.

R A N T  O V E R!

Carrying a “Male” Name

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Musical Selection: Kanye West (& other Lyricists)|Monster

An audio-poetic rant

Comic Strips Tre. Photo by my cousin Alex; tweaked and enhanced by Tremaine L. Loadholt
Carrying a “Male” Name by Tremaine L. Loadholt

People have been “misgendering” me
before calling it out was a thing.

I carry a “male” name; one that typically
appears before I do.

I cannot tell you how many times
I have said, “But I am a woman,” or
“It’s actually Tree•Maine.”
If I had a dollar … You know the rest.

I’ve lived a life of correcting people
about who I am and how I exist
before I was old enough to vote.
Before I was old enough to
sort out who respected me vs. who
just wanted to enunciate two syllables
the way they wanted to.

There is no patience in
learning one’s name or the
person tasked with enduring it
until the grave embraces them;
not in this country.

Here is something I’ll share
for free; if a person asks you
to pronounce their name correctly,
do it.

If a person asks you to use
their nickname, do it. (Chances are,
they’re tired of correcting you.)

If you have assumed the person
is whatever gender you’ve envisioned
for them before meeting them
because you thought their name
will lend you someone else, 
“That is a YOU problem.”

Fix it.
Today.

**An earlier version of this piece appeared via ACG’s Instagram “stories.” Published in A Cornered Gurl via Medium.

Explicit lyrics|content warning, “Monster.”

**I am NOT a Kanye West fan; Nicki Minaj & Jay Z’s verses are my favorites.

Everyone Wasn’t Made to Hustle

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A Prose Poem/Rant

Photo by Garrhet Sampson on Unsplash

Every other day, there’s a post sent to my LinkedIn feed telling me I must “have more than one income stream” in order to be successful. If I want to increase my income by $10K, I should, “connect more on social media, and build a brand.” The movers and thinkers are too busy moving and thinking, and I can’t get anyone to stop and hear what I’m saying.

Life is a rat race.
Powerful voices are buried
amongst the noise.
It’s success purgatory,
and the only way to land
your dream job is to
jump through every hoop
thrown at you at 100 mph.

I am covered in shitty articles, up to my neck in “This isn’t what we’re looking for, but better luck next time” and the world is a spinning shit-bucket waiting for a cleansing only the strong can provide. I am losing strength.

How can I, in my exhausted state, be expected to hustle more? Whatever happened to one’s work speaking for them? Whatever happened to authenticity and vulnerability luring people in? There are so many look-alikes prancing around the literary industry, I have no clue where one stops and the other begins.

Influencers share their highs,
deny their lows, and request
immediate funds for the
video you just watched you
clicked on a whim.

This is the world in which
we live. It is a hustle culture,
and everyone’s trying to
out-hustle the other.
And for what?
Some shit you can’t take
to the grave with you?

I had a conversation with a journalist friend of mine who says he’s so tired of all the work he has to do in order to stay above water. Why are people with REAL talent drowning in “the sea of same”, pigeon-holed to what’s hot, trendy, and new, and if they even think about pivoting away from the metric, they’re given their walking papers? From where did this bottomless pit of pithy perturbation originate? Who signed the approval papers? I need to speak to their manager.

I’m not here for the hustle,
I’m here for the art.
If that stunts my potential
to fulfill my dream, I’ll
take those odds.

I’d rather share what’s in
my heart than to
cookie cutter my words
only to have some top-notch
editor pass them off as
suitable enough to catapult
their brand.

I’ve got my own voice,
and I’m using it.

Originally published on Medium.

Exhausted

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A Rant

Photo by Kingsley Osei-Abrah on Unsplash

senseless violence
drawn by the hand of man.
when will we ever learn?
when will it ever get better?
children dying, people losing
their sense of self — 
all because power
is more important than life.

how will we get through
the grieving process if we’re 
continually grieving?
how will we heal if a wound
is torn open every few months?
why are we existing
if we cannot live
the lives laid before us?

when will power become
less of an asset versus
human life?

all of these questions
still have no answers,
but there are people
who can answer
all of these questions
yet they refuse
to do so accordingly.

and what will we have?
more lives lost,
more people grieving,
more wounds opened
when all we should
be doing is healing
and getting through life
as best as we can.

people say “Post-Pandemic Era” 
however, there are people
still dying from the Coronavirus.
there is no Post-Pandemic . . .
there is only now.
if we do not do something 
about where we are currently,
we will lose and
continue to lose all
aspects of our genuine selves.

and where will that
leave us?
cold, alone, despondent, irritable, 
frightful . . .

fearful of sending 
our children to schools,
fearful of going to shop
in our local grocery stores,
fearful of entering the temple.
when does it end?

this is not my America.
I do not feel at home here.
there is no place for
me here — no love.

how can I call a place home
when a person with a uterus
is punished for having one?

I’m sick and tired of being
sick and tired.
I’m sick and tired of
being sick and tired
I’m sick and TIRED OF BEING
SICK AND TIRED!

do something!

Originally published in soliloque via Medium.