I sometimes wonder if insurance companies intentionally devise bureaucratic hurdles so patients will either give up or die.

I can almost hear a reader’s exasperated sigh, “Here she goes again, complaining about health care …”

Before you turn the page thinking this column has nothing to do with you, wait! Even if you don’t currently require regular medical care, sooner or later, you probably will. Or a loved one will. As our bodies age, we all will. However, some people find they need it almost from the day they are born.

So, as I sit here, penning these words, the frustration from a recent encounter with our disaster of a health care system is still fresh. It’s a story that unfolds far too often for individuals managing chronic medical conditions. A tale of red tape, prescription processing, and out-of-pocket expenses. A place where urgency meets paperwork, the calendar year waltzes with insurance coverage, and the real-life impact on patients becomes painfully apparent.

A simple task — ordering my son’s medical supplies — unfolded like a Kafka novel two weeks before the end of the year. The distributor’s promise of a Dec. 26 arrival went unfulfilled. As the days ticked away, the shipment was trapped in the purgatory of “processing.”

Fast forward to Dec. 29. The order status remained unchanged: “Processing.” In a world where time is of the essence for those managing their health, waiting is an unaffordable luxury. Then another phone call — one that opened a window into the labyrinthian depths of our health care system.

The distributor informed me that they couldn’t ship the supplies. Despite having a valid prescription, they lacked chart notes detailing the date of the next appointment. A surreal twist in the tale — I shared the required details but the insistence on hearing it from the doctor’s office made me feel like an adolescent.

The ordeal left me pondering: Should individuals managing chronic conditions have to navigate such bureaucratic hoops for life-sustaining supplies? Why was the next appointment germane? Why were crucial medical supplies delayed despite having a valid prescription? With a shortage of medical professionals in Maine, other questions entered my mind. What would have happened if our doctor had suddenly quit or if the appointment had been too many months down the road? Or what happens if someone can’t get an appointment but has a valid prescription?

And then, there’s the subtle yet impactful interplay with the calendar year. Those managing chronic conditions are well aware of the out-of-pocket expenses waiting at the beginning of the new year. Insurance wouldn’t open its purse strings without the elusive chart notes that prophesied my son’s next appointment date. Was it a calculated move by the insurance company, ensuring our troubles spilled into the new year when reimbursement is less generous?

However, this isn’t just about dollars and cents; it’s about the delicate dance between bureaucratic procedures and patients’ urgent needs. The predicament took on a sharper edge over the holiday weekend. As we ushered in the new year, we were left waiting until Tuesday — another instance where bureaucracy dictates the pace of health care.

2024 arrived. Tuesday arrived. The medical supplies did not. Even after the supplier received the chart notes from the doctor, another hurdle surfaced — prior authorization from our insurance. The supplier wasn’t permitted to mail supplies without first verifying with the insurance if prior authorization was required from a doctor. Our insurance insisted this wasn’t true. The distributor assured me it was. One thing is certain: There is now an official note on our file to the supplier that says, “Prior authorization for pump supplies not needed.” It will expire in one year. If permission wasn’t needed, what purpose does it serve?

Eventually, the supplies arrived just before we ran out. But if I hadn’t spent hours on the phone, we might still be waiting. The episode was a poignant reminder that health care is not merely a fiscal enterprise but a profound human experience. It involves real people grappling with real challenges, not just files shuffled across desks. Or, in this case, by carrier pigeon. The journey from prescription to delivery shouldn’t be an odyssey. And no one’s life should be at risk because of red tape.

I’m not looking to lay blame. (Insurers will point to distributors who will point to insurers.) Rather, this is a plea for change. Can’t we design a system that ensures the seamless flow of life-sustaining supplies without sacrificing due diligence? The health care maze shouldn’t overshadow the humanity it serves.

As we navigate the terrain of a new year, let’s hope for a health care system that honors the urgency of medical needs, where bureaucracy doesn’t eclipse compassion, that prioritizes empathy over red tape, and where the delivery of essential supplies aligns with the heartbeat of those who depend on them.