Dear insurance companies: Stop sending me unnecessary reminder letters

I am, apparently, not a very good doctor. At least, that’s what some mailings I get from insurance companies make me think.

You probably get the same ones. They tell me what guidelines I’m not following or drug interactions I’m not mindful of. I suppose I should be grateful for their efforts to protect patients.

Letters I’ve gotten in the last week have reminded me that:

• Patients with elevated fasting blood sugars should be started on metformin.

• A lady on Eliquis (apixaban) after developing a deep-vein thrombosis should be considered for a less costly alternative, such as warfarin, to help her save money.

• An antihypertensive agent is recommended for a young man with persistently elevated blood pressures.

• An older gentleman’s lipid-lowering agent may interfere with his diabetes medication.

What do these have to do with anything that I, as a neurologist, am doing for the patient? Nothing.

Why are they being sent to me, as opposed to an internist or cardiologist? I have no idea. Of course, for all I know, the other docs might be getting recommendations on how to manage Parkinson’s disease or multiple sclerosis.

The insurance companies pay the bills. They obviously know which doctors are seeing who and prescribing what. Their billing systems track who practices what specialty. If I were to try submitting a claim for pulmonary evaluation, I’m sure they’d immediately notice and deny it.

So why can’t they get this straight? It seems like a big waste of time, paper, and postage all around.

On rare occasions, they actually get it right … sort of. About a month ago, I received a letter about a migraine patient, telling me that, for those with frequent migraines, a preventive medication should be considered. It even listed her current prescriptions to help me understand.

I absolutely agree with the letter, but it completely ignored that her medication list already included topiramate and nortriptyline, both commonly used for migraine prophylaxis. Since she has no other reason to be on either, I have no idea why they thought I’d use them. These kinds of notes all end with some generic comment that these are just suggestions, and only I and my patient can make the correct decisions about treatment, etc. etc.

That letter may be well intentioned, perhaps, but it is also inaccurate, unnecessary, and – to me – even a little demeaning. If you don’t think I know what I’m doing, then why are you sending patients to me? Maybe the software you’re using to screen charts and send these letters should open its own practice instead.

If the real goal of these letters is to save money (and we all know it is), then why is the company wasting it on redundant and inaccurate letters, usually not even sent to the correct doctor?

Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Ariz.

I am, apparently, not a very good doctor. At least, that’s what some mailings I get from insurance companies make me think.

You probably get the same ones. They tell me what guidelines I’m not following or drug interactions I’m not mindful of. I suppose I should be grateful for their efforts to protect patients.

Letters I’ve gotten in the last week have reminded me that:

• Patients with elevated fasting blood sugars should be started on metformin.

• A lady on Eliquis (apixaban) after developing a deep-vein thrombosis should be considered for a less costly alternative, such as warfarin, to help her save money.

• An antihypertensive agent is recommended for a young man with persistently elevated blood pressures.

• An older gentleman’s lipid-lowering agent may interfere with his diabetes medication.

What do these have to do with anything that I, as a neurologist, am doing for the patient? Nothing.

Why are they being sent to me, as opposed to an internist or cardiologist? I have no idea. Of course, for all I know, the other docs might be getting recommendations on how to manage Parkinson’s disease or multiple sclerosis.

The insurance companies pay the bills. They obviously know which doctors are seeing who and prescribing what. Their billing systems track who practices what specialty. If I were to try submitting a claim for pulmonary evaluation, I’m sure they’d immediately notice and deny it.

So why can’t they get this straight? It seems like a big waste of time, paper, and postage all around.

On rare occasions, they actually get it right … sort of. About a month ago, I received a letter about a migraine patient, telling me that, for those with frequent migraines, a preventive medication should be considered. It even listed her current prescriptions to help me understand.

I absolutely agree with the letter, but it completely ignored that her medication list already included topiramate and nortriptyline, both commonly used for migraine prophylaxis. Since she has no other reason to be on either, I have no idea why they thought I’d use them. These kinds of notes all end with some generic comment that these are just suggestions, and only I and my patient can make the correct decisions about treatment, etc. etc.

That letter may be well intentioned, perhaps, but it is also inaccurate, unnecessary, and – to me – even a little demeaning. If you don’t think I know what I’m doing, then why are you sending patients to me? Maybe the software you’re using to screen charts and send these letters should open its own practice instead.

If the real goal of these letters is to save money (and we all know it is), then why is the company wasting it on redundant and inaccurate letters, usually not even sent to the correct doctor?

Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Ariz.

I am, apparently, not a very good doctor. At least, that’s what some mailings I get from insurance companies make me think.

You probably get the same ones. They tell me what guidelines I’m not following or drug interactions I’m not mindful of. I suppose I should be grateful for their efforts to protect patients.

Letters I’ve gotten in the last week have reminded me that:

• Patients with elevated fasting blood sugars should be started on metformin.

• A lady on Eliquis (apixaban) after developing a deep-vein thrombosis should be considered for a less costly alternative, such as warfarin, to help her save money.

• An antihypertensive agent is recommended for a young man with persistently elevated blood pressures.

• An older gentleman’s lipid-lowering agent may interfere with his diabetes medication.

What do these have to do with anything that I, as a neurologist, am doing for the patient? Nothing.

Why are they being sent to me, as opposed to an internist or cardiologist? I have no idea. Of course, for all I know, the other docs might be getting recommendations on how to manage Parkinson’s disease or multiple sclerosis.

The insurance companies pay the bills. They obviously know which doctors are seeing who and prescribing what. Their billing systems track who practices what specialty. If I were to try submitting a claim for pulmonary evaluation, I’m sure they’d immediately notice and deny it.

So why can’t they get this straight? It seems like a big waste of time, paper, and postage all around.

On rare occasions, they actually get it right … sort of. About a month ago, I received a letter about a migraine patient, telling me that, for those with frequent migraines, a preventive medication should be considered. It even listed her current prescriptions to help me understand.

I absolutely agree with the letter, but it completely ignored that her medication list already included topiramate and nortriptyline, both commonly used for migraine prophylaxis. Since she has no other reason to be on either, I have no idea why they thought I’d use them. These kinds of notes all end with some generic comment that these are just suggestions, and only I and my patient can make the correct decisions about treatment, etc. etc.

That letter may be well intentioned, perhaps, but it is also inaccurate, unnecessary, and – to me – even a little demeaning. If you don’t think I know what I’m doing, then why are you sending patients to me? Maybe the software you’re using to screen charts and send these letters should open its own practice instead.

If the real goal of these letters is to save money (and we all know it is), then why is the company wasting it on redundant and inaccurate letters, usually not even sent to the correct doctor?

Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Ariz.