Going to the doctor
And life on the edge without "insurance"
So, big news, I recently went to the doctor. And because what everyone starts doing in their forties is talk about their health conditions, please pull up a vinyl-upholstered chair so I can tell you all about mine. Actually, don’t. Let’s just talk in general tones about medical coverage and medical situations.
You’ve probably wondered what I as a self-employed person does for medical insurance. No? It’s not too late to wonder. The answer is that this self-employed person doesn’t do medical insurance! Ha!
Okay, it’s not as if I’m totally irresponsible. No, no, no. I use a health share. This is where you sign up with a company who, in exchange for a monthly membership amount, provides coverage for your medical situations beyond an Initial Unsharable Amount. Sounds a lot like insurance and copays and deductibles, I know. But it’s not. I want to say they legally have to use dreaded small print which says reassuring things like:
“THIS IS NOT INSURANCE. WHILE WE WILL MAKE EVERY REASONABLE EFFORT TO HOLD UP OUR END OF THIS BARGAIN WE’RE MAKING, AND WE SUPER HOPE IT ALL WORKS OUT, OUR LAWYER SAYS WE CAN’T LEGALLY MAKE GUARANTEES OR WE’D BE PRETENDING TO BE AN INSURANCE COMPANY WHICH WE ARE NOT. BUT PLEASE GIVE US A SHOT AND LET’S SEE WHAT HAPPENS.”
Their monthly membership of $191/month (a portion of which goes to paying other members’ healthcare costs) was a sight better than continuing healthcare coverage with COBRA. When I looked at that situation for a hot second, it was something like $800/month plus your left kidney and the title to your car. “No thanks,” I said! A life well-lived is all about weighing and embracing risk, and I thought, since I was taking a plethora of major leaps of faith into The Unknown, I might as well take another one with, oh, just my health and well-being.
The concept of health shares is cool. Generally, they attract people who are willing to shoulder more responsibility for their well-being, and who want to live healthier in hopes it will lead to lower medical costs for them and their family. None of the professional doctor-goers here.
Speaking of those, back in my corporate days, it almost felt like people liked needing to go to the doctor. Doctors appointments were always a good excuse to get out of work, and even better if you got bad news that you could talk about with coworkers and get points for “important” or at least “interesting” news. It’s almost funny how much we got to know about each others’ medical situations. Did I share my stuff at times? You bet.
So anyway, I have medical coverage or “coverage” and a good family doctor. In recent months, visits to and recommended by that good family doctor have led to some funny stories and musings.
Breathing better
At a routine physical, the nurse practitioner was checking my lungs as they are wont to do. “Take a deep breath…now another…” Just once I want them to hear something interesting since I always feel like I’m letting them down. Either that, or I wonder if they’d hear something if I breathed better, whatever that even means.
I suppose it’s just that the thing we do several times every minute of our lives feels so ordinary until we’re on the spot, needing to perform with it. Am I the only one who wonders if they’re breathing “good enough” at the doctor?
Trapped in the machine
At my annual-ish mammogram, I was questioning the tech about just how good the grip is on those plates since it felt like if I breathed too deeply, I’d displace things that shouldn’t be displaced, if you know what I mean. She assured me that they clamp down REALLY good.
As in: a mammogram tech friend of hers was working at a different hospital when the power went out, and a poor woman had one of her, ah, body parts trapped in a machine. It took several people and minutes to free her. If you’re a woman, please try not to think about this next time you get your mammogram done. I know I won’t be able to help it.
Forgetting patients
We’ve all probably had the appointments where we wonder if we were forgotten because it’s been so long since they had you change into a gown and sit on the table. What are you to do besides start coughing, loudly clearing your throat, and rustling around on that obnoxious waxed paper, hoping someone—anyone—will hear you and remember the patient in Exam Room 3? I’ve absolutely done this.
And lest you think medical people never forget their patients, I know from a dental chair conversation that they do. My dental hygienist’s uncle was fired from his job as a MRI tech because he was drunk on the job AND FELL ASLEEP WHILE A PATIENT WAS IN THE MACHINE. Next time I go (February, for your information) I’ll try to get more details on the situation, including duration.
Drive-thru pharmacy
The final medical situation I’ve been grinning about involves the pharmacy. I’m a fan of drive-thrus for a lot of things—dry cleaning, fast food, and library/ballot drop-offs. For inexplicable reasons, bank drive-thrus intimidate me a little bit. So do pharmacy drive-thrus. I think it’s because you just don’t know what they’re going to ask and who else is standing at the counter to potentially overhear…things.
By things, I mean either your side of your situation, or potentially embarrassing questions from the technician asked loudly in the presence of you-don’t-know-who. When I went to fill a prescription recently, I couldn’t help but grin thinking what it would be like if, when the tech handed over a prescription, they also said—loudly—what it was for. “ALL RIGHT, MR. CHAD SMITH. HERE’S YOUR PRESCRIPTION FOR {FILL IN THE BLANK WITH ANY MEDICAL CONDITION, EMBARRASSING OR NOT, THAT YOU’D RATHER NOT HAVE EVERY STRANGER KNOW ABOUT.}”
Do you have any interesting medical stories or musings you care to share? I’m over here holding my hopefully good-enough breath.
Isn’t life cool and aren’t people interesting? See you in the next one…
