Starter pack: Help! I’m in collections over medical debt
Hey there —
Confession: I’m in medical debt.
Over the last couple of months, a collections agency has called me every single day trying to collect a $1,035 debt I supposedly owe to a medical supply company.
I say “supposedly” because I don’t owe this money. And thanks to what I’ve learned working on this show and newsletter, I know a little about my rights, so I’ve been perfectly content to let those calls go to voicemail while I figure out my next move. (Content — but also cursing a little under my breath.)
If you want the full story of how a reporter on the cost of health care beat ended up in medical debt, I’ll fill you in below. I feel no shame, and why should I? After all, four in ten adults owe medical or dental debt. Maybe you do, too.
That’s why I’m excited about what I’m really here to share with you today: our team’s awesome new “Starter Pack.”

We’ve put all our newsletters and podcast episodes about medical debt, debt collectors, and how to fight back into one place.
Bookmark it, share it, star this email — whatever works so it’s there when you or someone you know needs it.
And while you’re at it, check out our other Starter Packs, too.
We’ll keep adding to these packs as we publish more reporting — and we’d love your thoughts on how they’re working, and what other Starter Packs or resources would be useful.
Keep reading for a little dose of debt drama. I can’t promise you anything you wouldn’t already expect from our backwards, upside down, inside out health care system. But maybe you’ll relate. Or maybe you’ll enjoy the thrill of imagining how you would’ve handled it better — because some of you definitely would’ve.
How I ended up in in medical debt and what I’m doing about it
This all started last summer, when I got laid off from a job that came with health insurance, and I had to move to COBRA. My coverage ended July 31, and I was supposed to enroll in COBRA starting August 1.
Seemed easy enough. But when August 1 rolled around, I was sweating: I still hadn’t received any email or letter explaining how to sign up.
I called around and located the third-party benefits company handling COBRA for my former employer. They told me they didn’t have any paperwork about me from HR yet, and warned it could take a couple more weeks. But they also reassured me that COBRA would be retroactive, so even if I technically wasn’t covered yet, any health care I got before COBRA kicked in would still be paid for.
I didn’t plan on testing the theory. But beyond my line of sight, an automatic refill went through for a 90-day supply of sensors for my (very medically necessary and very, very chic) continuous glucose monitor. Oops.
I still had time to cancel the order, but I did need the sensors. I figured that if the supplier billed me in the meantime, I could just resubmit the claim to insurance once coverage kicked in and sort it out later. Right?
…Right?
Ten months on, my insurance plan (now my former plan) is still listing the claim as “pending.” And the supply company, which had been sending me a monthly bill for the cash price of the sensors, has sent my account to collections.
To be fair: I could have handled this better. I went into full type-B mode for a while. And I still haven’t disputed the debt in writing — probably not my slickest move.
But I do know exactly where this debt is coming from, and I know exactly who should pay it (not — and I cannot emphasize this enough — me). So for now, I’m working the phones with my supplier and insurer and documenting every call. And my most recent call to the supplier seems to have paused collections efforts.
After ignoring the collection agency dozens and dozens of times, I finally picked up their last call.
I was honestly kind of excited — I wanted to channel the energy of “TikTok mom” Shaunna Burns, a self-taught master of dealing with debt-collection nonsense that Dan profiled a few years ago on the show. (Basically, I tried to be really nice, told them what was going on, and then I hung up with my chin held high.) We’ll see how it goes.
And by the way: the billing here is extremely opaque. In theory, I should owe something: a $40 copay. Looking at my old invoices, I can see the supplier charges very different rates for cash payers and insurance plans — not too surprising — but each gets a “discount” I won’t pretend to understand.
As Dan likes to say, we will never run out of material.
‘Til next time.
— Emily
P.S. Here’s that Starter Pack link again!
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