Years ago, I had knee surgery that was fully authorized by Cigna. Everything was covered—except the anesthesiologist. Apparently, the guy who put me to sleep wasn’t “in-network” or “pre-approved” or whatever excuse they pulled from the insurance denial playbook.

I called Cigna to fix it. Their response?

“Sorry, it is what it is.”

Challenge accepted.

I was on disability at the time, smoking weed, watching daytime TV, and had nothing but time and spite. So I made it my daily job to call Cigna. Twice a day. Every day. For weeks.

They cycled through phone reps like I was the final boss. I got transferred, hung up on, and hit with vague threats like:

“Your claim is denied and continued calls could result in consequences.”

Cool story, Steve. See you tomorrow at 10am.

Eventually I reached a supervisor who wasn’t having it. I hit him with:

“How much money have you spent just answering my calls?”

They told me to pound sand.

So I kept calling.

Eventually, I got escalated to a senior manager who warned me that my behavior was becoming “harassing” and that they were considering contacting the authorities.

I told them:

“And if you do that, I’ll record the police interaction and call the media.”

Silence.

They asked me not to call again and said they’d “work on an answer.” I gave them a deadline:

“You’ve got 3 days.”

On Day 2, they called me. Claim approved.