Life's Little Injustices (Take XVIII): Medicine As A Business (Sticker Shock Strikes Again)

<"Watch Out For Falling Bills...

Take I"/The Reckoner>

<i.>

You'd think I'd learned my lesson by now. Last spring, I'd been waiting on a procedure that I desperately needed, to make some "south of the border" improvements near my groin area. I'd reached the point where delay wasn't an option anymore. I was supposed to undergo it last November, only to have it KO'd twice -- once, due to COVID-19, the other, due to scheduling issues with the doctor. 

A freak ice storm pushed the date back yet again, from February 1, to April 22 (see my previous entry, "Life's Little Injustices (Take XVII): Medicine As A Business (You Gotta Love It)"). One more postponement followed, for scheduling reasons.

The May 26 date held, and I underwent the knife for an hour. The doctor only needed to numb the relevant body part, so I was awake the whole time, and didn't feel any pain. I took a couple days off, to ease the recovery process, and went back to work the following Monday.

A $200 bill soon landed on my doormat. I had the cash, so I promptly paid it, figuring it was my portion of the overall cost ($530 and some change). Come July, I received a second bill, for $180, and then, a third, for nearly $90. 

The former statement referenced Some Pathology Practice Or Other, in Toledo, OH. The latter bill contained info at all. 

Wait a minute, I told myself. I know you pay some of these costs for these things out of pocket, but...  I did some quick calculations to see where I stood. Taking these two bills into the equation, I'd end up paying 88 percent! Hmm, that doesn't seem right. What's up with that? I asked myself.

So I did what the pundits tell you. I called the various entities involved, and asked them what's going on, starting with our local hospital, which now owns the urology clinic that did my procedure. (They own everything else that matters here medically, too, but that's another discussion for another day.) 

I also rang up our so-called insurer, who ever returned any of my three calls. That matched what the hospital's customer support staff told me -- they reached out to them, too, but never heard back. Figures, right?

<"Watch Out For Falling Bills...

Take II"/The Reckoner>

<ii.>

July and August gradually faded into September, and now, October, as the big runaround continued. A couple of threatening notices from Some Pathology Practice Or Other landed on my doormat, too. Ironically, though, after months of runaround, I finally got the answer I needed.

Guess what? I'm on the hook for those other amounts, too -- the $90, due to that "out of network" thing. (Mind you, I've never received any info of who's in the network. But I digress. As for the $180? The Billing Department at Some Pathology Practice Or Other told me, "We did send that to your insurer, and they refused to pay it." 

So I'm still paying that 88 percent of the total, or $460. Oh, well, at least I didn't have to pay the entire cost upfront, something that you face constantly, as an uninsured IC (independent contractor). But still...

I'm not faulting any of the billing or customer support departments. They were pretty cordial and professional, and I had no problem getting them to accept the $30 per month I proposed to pay the $180 bill. I don't know how I'll handle the $90 bill yet, but I'm sure I can figure out something.

On one level, it's all good. And yet, on another level, it really isn't so good. Having to pay that 88 percent cost leaves a sour taste in my mouth. Fine, Herr Keaton, I get that it's a business, and you need another designer sweater to grace your already overstuffed hall closet. I'm sure your ex-hippie parents will love it!

Sure, Dr. Huxtable, I know you planned to buy a second Mercedes this year -- for your Roman numeral-entitled offspring. And yes, Mr. Ewing, I'm sure you can buy quite a few boots and 10 gallon hats, once we're all done shelling out 88 percent of your bills. 

<"Watch Out For Falling Medical Bills...

Take III"/The Reckoner>

<iii.>

But you know something? Sure, American medicine is definitely a business, but it's definitely the least efficient, least responsive business I've encountered. I shouldn't have had to burn up four months trying to figure what I was paying, or why.  

In contrast, I remember when Morgan Spurlock did a program on medical tourism. The Thai hospital he visited gave him an itemized bill for the hypothetical procedure that he outlined, down to the last baht. Wow! What a concept, right? Makes me wonder what else they've sussed out ahead of us.

Of course, medicine isn't the only driving force in the big squeeze most of us feel right now. The Squawker and I got a fresh reminder at the store yesterday, where we paid $4.29 for a dozen eggs (Ka-ching!), $7 for a pound of packaged lunch meat (Ka-ching!), and $7 for a package of organic sausages (Ka-ching!).  

Don't worry, though. I'm sure all the endless Biden-related investigations that the Republicans plan, if they retake Congress next month, should reduce all those prices in one fell swoop, right? 

And if you really believe that...I'll let you, Dear Reader, finish the sentence this time. Something's got to give, all right. I'm just tired of it always being me. --The Reckoner