One blood test.  Sounds simple, right? 

There are only two options:  A 50-minute round trip walk to my local pathology to have the test.  Or, a 2+ hour round trip to the hospital on public transport. 

With PTSD, hospital trips are draining-ly fraught. Whereas my local pathology with its friendly phlebotomist, is comparatively stress free. 

Normally, the choice is so easy, it can barely be called a choice.

But, this test request form, unusually, has a fee written beside the test, which is concerning because all tests at the hospital and most tests at my local pathology are bulk-billed (so cost-free to me).

Given that the form came from the hospital, puzzled, I can only conclude that the hospital no longer bulk-bills. 

And if they don’t, nor will my local pathology. 

A potential problem, when on a pension.

However, quizzing my GP, I am encouraged to discover that because of my health condition, Medicare may rebate the cost of the test. 

But will they?  And how much?     

It might sound silly to deliberate a $30 test, but a pension means I need to know how much out of my budget to allocate - an amount which hinges on whether I get any of that $30 back, and when. 

Because, once I’ve paid, I’m without that grocery/electricity/gas bill money until an unknown amount of it returns to me (or not). 

Complicating this, the decision on if/where to go must be made BEFORE I arrive for the test, because once I’m there I’m kind of committed, irrespective of cost.  This, I well know, includes any fees which are not written on the form, ‘surprise’ amounts only revealed upon arrival, when the pathology person mutters “you do know there’s a fee?” OR “you know the fee has gone up?” 

My ‘easy’ two option decision now has a third: will I do this test at all?

There is simply not enough information on the form to decide whether the test is financially ‘doable’ this fortnight, or not. 

But thankfully, a couple of phone calls will fix this. 

First, Medicare to confirm that the test is rebateable. 

But, after twenty-five minutes on hold, I find that I have wasted every one of those minutes, because all the information I could ever need is on the Medicare website.  But not the Medicare website I got their phone number from.  The other Medicare website.  The one consumers like me don’t know exists. 

Nevertheless, exist it does, with the answers I seek.  But only if I “have the item number” (not written on the form), the operator explains.  “Or you could try doing a keyword search for the test”. 

Assuming without asking that I don’t have the item number, her whole attitude is ‘you’re screwed’.

“I can’t help you,” she purrs. 

But, I smirk. 

Oh.  But you can.  Because I do.

Courtesy of my foresighted GP.

That magic item number, proudly proffered, ten seconds of typing and she can confirm that I will get a rebate of $ ?  depending on which pathology I use.  “They can charge what they like,” she points out.

The claims process is equally muddy.  If lucky, pathology submits the claim to Medicare, and the refund falls back into my account within hours.  Or, worst case scenario, pathology issues me a receipt, forcing me to claim myself (a tedious process involving photographs, online form filling and a 7-10 business day wait for the refund IF Medicare doesn’t reject the claim because they don’t like the wording on the receipt). 

Frantically trying to process all this, I start to wonder…seriously, will I die if I skip this blood test?

However, off the phone and better informed, I now know:

1)     The test is rebateable

2)     It will cost me $ ? this fortnight

3)     No one knows how or when I get that mystery amount back

Next, I call my local pathology.

Taking care to avoid the “you should have checked the website first” issue costs me 10 minutes trawling their website for information which doesn’t exist.  There is, though, a customer ‘support’ line, which sounds promising.  

However, after listening to the “welcome” message (with it’s vague promise of “a team member will speak to you as soon as they can”) I’m on hold so long that I consider hanging up and walking the 50-minute round trip to ask in person.  It may be faster.  

Worse, the pathology person when she answers, unimpressed by the item number, instantly dives into a tense conversation where I insist that the test is rebateable and she insists that it is not.  “The cost, is the cost,” she growls.  

And the cost is higher than the amount written on the form because of add on processing fees, petrol….

Three pained minutes later, tired of the rebate debacle, what do I know?

1)     The test is not rebateable

2)     It will cost $30+++ at my local pathology

3)    There is no claims issue, because I can’t claim  

Knowing from experience that the hospital does not like phone calls, I don’t bother. 

Even with the add on $5 in bus fares, clearly the hospital is the cheapest option for what is now the last test I will ever do.     

Indeed, after budgeting the FULL COST of the test (plus a bit extra just in case), a teeth-grindingly stressful bus trip and a struggle with the hospital’s Covid check-in app, darting in flapping my stress crumpled form I instantly annoy the pathology lady with my gasped

“Can I claim?  Can I claim?  HOW MUCH WILL THIS COST?” 

How much? 

Nothing.  Not one thing.

“We just bulk bill it,” she snaps.

Eyes narrowed, as she sucks out my blood, I know that only an insanely good/terribly poor test result will make this saga worthwhile.