The $14,000. pill

I got sick not too long ago. The flu was going around so I supposed it was my turn. I had eaten at my favorite restaurant and four hours later I was hugging the toilet. I went to bed and went to sleep. The family came in and did family things, and we all settled down for the night. It was shortly after midnight, my wife says she was awakened by a crash. She sat up in bed, saw that I was not there and decided I had bumped into something going for a snack. She went back to sleep. It is worth noting my wife was a doting nurse on our older children but as she has gotten older, works full-time, exhausts herself working with small children and adolescents during the day, well-when she gets home, her nursing skills are a bit blunted.

Rather than rummaging the house for a snack, I had passed out in the bathroom. Anna was awakened by the sounds of me crawling to the toilet to do a little toilet hugging again. She called 9-1-1. I managed to crawl to bed. And the a cast of thousands arrived.

In our town, if you call 9-1-1, first you get the fire truck loaded with folks who are trained EMT's They are first responders and generally they are men--which helps if one sleeps without pajamas. They crowded around my bed and started asking questions. Then the ambulance came. I was asked which hospital we wanted. We have two. We have a "not-for-profit" and a "for-profit." Anna gave them the name of our hospital of choice--the "not-for-profit." One of the ambulance persons promptly responded, "They're closed!" You'll have to go to the other. And off we went sort of. Not before I had a wrestling match with the woman who wanted to see what I was sleeping in and wanted to take me to the hospital as I was. I refused until I put on some clothes appropriate for meeting people.

My son recently bought me a plane ticket from Los Angeles to Taipei, Taiwan for the price of the ambulance ride across town. When we arrived at the "for-profit" emergency room, we were followed by a woman who sat at the door waiting for fools such as us. She would not leave my room until she had collected the deposit my insurance required. My wife gave her the debit card. Never have I felt more welcome.

I asked for more blankets because I was freezing, so the attendant took away the one I had. The doctor came in and looked at me and left. I suspected that was a $300 look, and I was not far off. Then the door closed and my wife and I were left alone.

After a short while, I realized I needed to do some toilet surfing, but I was on a gurney and there was no toilet in sight. Anna called out for a bed pan and someone brought one and promptly left. Bed pans have an interesting history. They were first worn as hats during the wars on the continent. Later, after the wars had died down somewhat, they were used with little success as Frisbees. The problem was if not caught, one got knocked out.

Stainless steel came along and the design was now complete. When a bed pan was slid under the patient, they forgot what they wanted the bed pan for.

Mine was plastic. I hate bed pans and for me it is like trying to hit a basket ball goal shooting basket balls out your rear end. And sure enough, once again I missed. My wife quickly cleans me up and gathers up the mess and the sheet. Where you ask, are the "for-profit" nurses? Well, I can only tell you where they were not. When I get presentable, I amble down to the bathroom to finish my work.

When I returned, my wife, not the "for profit" nurse has remade my bed with one sheet. Apparently "for profit" means "one sheet" instead of two. Eight hours later I am dismissed with a diagnosis of dehydration and two pills. A week later the bill arrives--$13,000, for the emergency room services and $1,000. for the ambulance ride.

I have suggested to my wife that she did right the first time. When she hears a thud in the night, just keep sleeping. I will either get better or die. I think she can bury me for half of what it took to treat me and take the rest and go someplace wonderful.

Perhaps she will meet husband #2.