If, like my wife, you're willing to spend a long time on the phone with the insurance company, eventually someone will tell you what a 90472 is, agree that it is covered, apologize, and promise to pay you. Have you had one of these go' rounds with your health insurance?

Don't know what a 90472 is? Well neither did we. Do you think it an accident that the insurance company hides its "mistakes" behind cryptic codes? I don't think so either. It's all part of a system intended to discourage us from arguing with the company, and in so doing to save the insurer money by not paying out on legitimate claims.

I call this a "semi-scam." I'm sure that no one at the insurance company singled us out to be cheated out of a reimbursement. Instead, what happened is the natural result of management decisions that more than one big Washington insurer seems to have made. First, they set up the system so that plenty of coding mistakes happen on the route from medical provider to insurer. Second, the insurer's letter to the consumer is as obscure as possible. That's why the "explanation" calls the procedure a "90472" instead of "that shot your kid got." Third, make it time consuming to get through to the company. That way it's too much trouble to try to get mistakes fixed. Finally -- and this one is important -- when a consumer does get through, treat them politely so they don't get mad enough to complain to their legislator or the insurance commissioner.

I call this a "semi-scam" rather than just a scam because dishonesty is built into the design of the system. When I get cheated it's a "mistake" rather than an illegal fraud. But a system with a built-in tendency to make mistakes still adds up to money out of your pocket and mine, and profits into the coffers of the insurance company.

What really burns me is that most of this nonsense could be easily stopped. If the insurance commissioner or our state legislators are listening, how about enacting the following revolutionary idea for a regulation:

Any denial of benefits should use PLAIN ENGLISH to identify the medical procedure and the reason for denial.

What's this going to cost the insurance company? Roughly…nothing. They're already sending us the piece of paper. Printing a couple of extra computer-generated lines won't add anything measurable to the cost.

Of course, making it easier for families to catch mistakes means the insurance companies won't so easily avoid paying legitimate claims.

If the insurance companies weren't benefiting from the current system, they'd communicate with us in English without prodding. It's just the most rudimentary customer service. Additionally, clear communication would save us time and the companies money when we could tell that a claim denial was legit -- without having to bother one of those polite customer-service representatives. I suspect consumers would report occasional medical-provider billing errors to the insurance company too, which would save the insurer from paying out when it shouldn't.

Requiring plain language won't fix all the ills of our health-care system. Insurance companies could still understaff their customer-service phone lines. And, of course, plain language doesn't help the too-many uninsured. But a policy that makes a moderate improvement and minimal cost is worth doing. There's no downside.

At least there's no downside for consumers.