Saturday, June 21, 2014
Sunday, June 1, 2014
This Post Is About Two Things. They Both Suck.
Now that I finally have a moment, I should relate the rest of my last hospital adventure. There are several things that went down (complete with an outline!):
1) Physical Medical Stuff
a) As I mentioned in the previous post, the doc couldn't get the cath in on the right side, so we went with the left (well, I say "we" - it was mostly just me saying "HOLY CRAP THAT HURTS LIKE AT LEAST FOUR OF THE SEVEN HELLS," and the doc saying, "okay, we'll try the other side," and me yelling "AND WHY AM I EVEN AWAKE RIGHT NOW?" and the doc saying, "give him more," which we both know means more drugs because we have an understanding that when he is stabbing a wire into my heart I DON'T WANT TO KNOW ABOUT IT UNTIL IT'S OVER).
b) The reason it wouldn't go in on the right is because it's probably occluded with scar tissue. This means that the right side is no longer any good for heart caths. So we're now going to be very careful with the left size -using smaller caths and doing them less often. I may not go back in until August. If the left side gets buggered up, no more caths for me, meaning no admissions, no IA time, and serious problems with getting weekly biopsies post-transplant. The implications of all that are, not to put to fine a point on it, really really grim. No, I haven't lost any sleep over this, why do you ask?
c) My initial bloodwork showed my potassium at 2.5. A normal person's body maintains a potassium level of around 4. So when it's below about 3.5 you get really sick, or melt, or turn into a pumpkin...or something. All I know is that I felt like doody on a stick for about 3 weeks prior, couldn't sleep, sketchy appetite, headaches and nausea, feeling disoriented and foggy...so about normal, only turned up a few notches. Once they got my potassium up, I felt so much better. Problem is it's impossible to test your potassium at home. So I'm getting blood drawn twice a week now, and trying to take a lot of supplements, eat apricots, pistachios, and potatoes, and drink chocolate soy milk, all high in potassium.
d) I seem to be keeping up now, but my body is dumping a LOT of potassium every day. Why, suddenly? Because the diuretic I'm normally on is "back-ordered" (meaning the RX company knows lots of people need it, so they've manufactured a "shortage" in order to bring it back to market at a higher price next month. In pretty much any other country in the world except Nigeria, companies can be fined out the wazoo for doing that, but here, they will be eligible for a government subsidy to help them recoup their lost revenue during said "shortage." God Bless the U.S.A.). So because the new diuretic has an adverse effect on my postassium retention, I'm taking 10 (ten. onetwothreefourfivesixseveneightnineten) Potassium capsules per day. While trying to keep my fluid consumption down. Yeah, I missed that physics class too.
2) Financial Med Stuff
a) In light of owing Tufts Medical Center in Boston approximately $4,734,283,102.45 (a totally not-made-up number), I've been really dilligent to make sure everything is filed with insurance and paid properly so our co-pays are as small as possible. Note that I - me - took the initiative to do this. I called them, many times. Something got filed wrong with Medicare, who now doesn't want to pay. I've been on the phone with Tufts and Medicare multiple times trying to help them do their jobs (a fool's errand).
b) When we moved, I called Tufts with our new address and phone number, asking AGAIN if the issue had been resolved. Talked to an accounts manager, blah blah blah. It's in review, we'll contact you soon.
c) A few weeks later, call back. Same story. "I don't want it to end up in collections," I say. "I want to pay my part, but I want Medicare to do their part first so I don't overpay," I say. "We'll be sure to contact you," they say.
d) Friday, receive a call from, guess who? If you guessed Collection Agency, you win the gold star! I laughed. I cried. I asked if Medicare had paid on it yet. I was informed that they had not.
e) I advised said Collection Agent that Tufts Medical Center could choose one of several options:
i) Kiss my left butt cheek.
ii) Sue me. I have a 25 Year Anniversary Boba Fett action figure that should fetch somewhere in the neighborhood of $300, though that's only .000000000072% of what they think I owe them (there's some kind of math error there. I'll work it out later).
iii) Send a heavy to pound it out of my very flesh because:
And some of my dear readers don't know me in real life, but I promise you, I'm a really nice guy. I take my bills seriously. I try to do what I say I will so far as I'm physically able. The fact that I owe people money for caring for my medical needs actually bothers me. But when I get slapped in the face for trying to do the right thing, I'm really tempted to do the wrong thing, which is to become uncommunicative, evasive, and apathetic.
So tomorrow's phone conversation with them should be fun. If I decide to make it at all.
There didn't seem a good place to put this in the
blog post so I'll just leave it here for everyone to ponder: Eric J. Beyer, Executive CEO of Tufts Medical Center in Boston had total compensation of $744,722 in 2013. My outstanding bill is $1000, minus what Medicare owes them (probably around $750). Best healthcare system in the world? The numbers speak for themselves.
1) Physical Medical Stuff
a) As I mentioned in the previous post, the doc couldn't get the cath in on the right side, so we went with the left (well, I say "we" - it was mostly just me saying "HOLY CRAP THAT HURTS LIKE AT LEAST FOUR OF THE SEVEN HELLS," and the doc saying, "okay, we'll try the other side," and me yelling "AND WHY AM I EVEN AWAKE RIGHT NOW?" and the doc saying, "give him more," which we both know means more drugs because we have an understanding that when he is stabbing a wire into my heart I DON'T WANT TO KNOW ABOUT IT UNTIL IT'S OVER).
b) The reason it wouldn't go in on the right is because it's probably occluded with scar tissue. This means that the right side is no longer any good for heart caths. So we're now going to be very careful with the left size -using smaller caths and doing them less often. I may not go back in until August. If the left side gets buggered up, no more caths for me, meaning no admissions, no IA time, and serious problems with getting weekly biopsies post-transplant. The implications of all that are, not to put to fine a point on it, really really grim. No, I haven't lost any sleep over this, why do you ask?
c) My initial bloodwork showed my potassium at 2.5. A normal person's body maintains a potassium level of around 4. So when it's below about 3.5 you get really sick, or melt, or turn into a pumpkin...or something. All I know is that I felt like doody on a stick for about 3 weeks prior, couldn't sleep, sketchy appetite, headaches and nausea, feeling disoriented and foggy...so about normal, only turned up a few notches. Once they got my potassium up, I felt so much better. Problem is it's impossible to test your potassium at home. So I'm getting blood drawn twice a week now, and trying to take a lot of supplements, eat apricots, pistachios, and potatoes, and drink chocolate soy milk, all high in potassium.
d) I seem to be keeping up now, but my body is dumping a LOT of potassium every day. Why, suddenly? Because the diuretic I'm normally on is "back-ordered" (meaning the RX company knows lots of people need it, so they've manufactured a "shortage" in order to bring it back to market at a higher price next month. In pretty much any other country in the world except Nigeria, companies can be fined out the wazoo for doing that, but here, they will be eligible for a government subsidy to help them recoup their lost revenue during said "shortage." God Bless the U.S.A.). So because the new diuretic has an adverse effect on my postassium retention, I'm taking 10 (ten. onetwothreefourfivesixseveneightnineten) Potassium capsules per day. While trying to keep my fluid consumption down. Yeah, I missed that physics class too.
2) Financial Med Stuff
a) In light of owing Tufts Medical Center in Boston approximately $4,734,283,102.45 (a totally not-made-up number), I've been really dilligent to make sure everything is filed with insurance and paid properly so our co-pays are as small as possible. Note that I - me - took the initiative to do this. I called them, many times. Something got filed wrong with Medicare, who now doesn't want to pay. I've been on the phone with Tufts and Medicare multiple times trying to help them do their jobs (a fool's errand).
b) When we moved, I called Tufts with our new address and phone number, asking AGAIN if the issue had been resolved. Talked to an accounts manager, blah blah blah. It's in review, we'll contact you soon.
c) A few weeks later, call back. Same story. "I don't want it to end up in collections," I say. "I want to pay my part, but I want Medicare to do their part first so I don't overpay," I say. "We'll be sure to contact you," they say.
d) Friday, receive a call from, guess who? If you guessed Collection Agency, you win the gold star! I laughed. I cried. I asked if Medicare had paid on it yet. I was informed that they had not.
e) I advised said Collection Agent that Tufts Medical Center could choose one of several options:
i) Kiss my left butt cheek.
ii) Sue me. I have a 25 Year Anniversary Boba Fett action figure that should fetch somewhere in the neighborhood of $300, though that's only .000000000072% of what they think I owe them (there's some kind of math error there. I'll work it out later).
iii) Send a heavy to pound it out of my very flesh because:
- They're not getting a penny from me. Not even my co-pay. They can eat it.
- I tried to do the right thing and initiate contact repeatedly to make sure the bill got paid, despite the fact that it was mostly their fault Medicare balked. No more. I've now become "that" person who doesn't give two rips and half a jelly doughnut if they ever see a red cent.
- I've said it before and it makes people mad (which is strong incentive for me to say it again): This is how sick people get treated in this country, every. single. day. My European friends can't fathom what it's like to have a chronic illness and the added stress of trying to figure out how to pay for it. They know they pay more taxes, but they tell me they get good medical care in a timely manner and they never get a bill. Because good governments take care of their sick. Because every developed country and most un-developed countries (except Nigeria) have some form of socialized healthcare and don't punish their citizens for being sick. Why do we do that here?
- Oh yeah, Socialism. A term that most Americans can't define given the crappy state of our education system. They vaguely think it has something to do with Hitler. Or some Russian guy. (wrong on both counts - if you're an American, surprise! You're already a Socialist. You just don't know the definition of the word - except in healthcare. We're all Socialists except for healthcare. With healthcare we're what's known as "Sucks To Be You-ists."
So tomorrow's phone conversation with them should be fun. If I decide to make it at all.
There didn't seem a good place to put this in the
blog post so I'll just leave it here for everyone to ponder: Eric J. Beyer, Executive CEO of Tufts Medical Center in Boston had total compensation of $744,722 in 2013. My outstanding bill is $1000, minus what Medicare owes them (probably around $750). Best healthcare system in the world? The numbers speak for themselves.
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