Once a legitimate blog. Now just a collection of memes 'n menz.
I saw my dentist today for the first time since last September’s surgery. This is not where I thought they split my jaw. All this time I was thinking it was front and center when it turns out it was behind my last molar. This also explains why they didn’t have to remove any teeth and why I have no feeling in my lower jaw; they had to cut the nerve!
How do people without insurance do it?
Short answer, they don’t.
Healthcare in this country sucks.
I went in for my second once-every-three-week Keytruda infusion today. I was handed this “informational sheet” at check-in. I mean, I knew this shit was expensive, but that $30K figure isn’t for the full course of treatment; it’s per infusion. A year’s worth of treatments rounds to more than half a million dollars.
As I was getting unhooked from the IV, the nurse and I had a long conversation about the state of healthcare in these United States and agreed that we needed Medicare for all, no questions asked. We’re the only “first world” country without universal healthcare and frankly, it’s a fucking embarrassment.
“Right, Bubba?”
I’m not talking about the Middle East being inches away from WWIII, or the latest attempted power grab by the orange clown in the White House. No, this time it’s more personal.
As many—if not most—of you know, I was diagnosed with laryngeal cancer back in 2003. Through a combination of fortunate events (and damn good medical care), I came through it—although not without some battle scars—and have been cancer free for the last two decades.
Everything’s been good, but lately I’ve been having more than the usual difficulty (a long-term effect of that previous course of radiation) swallowing. Stuff was getting caught on the way down, and while I’ve been able to successfully hack it back up and get it down on a second try, I was concerned enough that one day I reached down my throat and felt something—odd—on the back of my tongue. I made an appointment with my ENT. He ordered a CT scan and the results came back clear. Still, he shoved that infamous scope up my nose and down my throat and saw a spot where things had been getting caught. “Probably just an ulcer,” he said, “but with your history let’s be sure.”
I was supposed to go in for a biopsy yesterday, but when I went in on Tuesday for my pre-op screening, we discovered that I was never told to discontinue one of my medications, so now it’s rescheduled for this coming Monday.
It’s not my first biopsy; it’s usually an in-and-out the same day thing, but last time I had one done (this past November) I ended up in the hospital for several days because my blood-oxygen was remaining stubbornly low post-op. They finally decided that I had some kind of non-specific pulmonary infection and sent me home with a strong antibiotic and oxygen. It resolved itself in about a week, my numbers climbed back into the mid 90s and the oxygen generator went back.
But this time, as I got the pre-op paperwork from my insurance it mentioned not only the laryngoscopy with biopsy (expected), but also partial glossectomy. WTF? He’s planning on cutting out a part of my tongue? This was not discussed. I spoke at length with a good friend who’s been a nurse since probably I was in high school who managed to talk me off the ledge. She said that particular line item was in there because it was pretty standard, CYA stuff—especially with Medicare—in case he got in there, discovered it was not just an ulcer, and decided to excise the whole thing immediately.
This still has me a little freaked, mostly because of not knowing how it’s going to affect speech and swallowing if he decides to take out a chunk of the back of my tongue for however long it takes for it to heal. And then of course, if the biopsy comes back as malignant, then there’s all that to deal with, which—having been to that rodeo once already—I am most definitely not looking forward to going through again.
So if I go quiet—no pun intended—for some time after Monday, it’s because I have other things on my mind…
For-profit is a death panel. All that bullshit prpjection from Conservatives regarding Obamacare/ACA was actually a description of corporate health insurance.
[source]
A couple weeks ago I went in for my annual visit with my Ear/Nose/Throat doctor. Same routine as always: snake the laryngoscope up my nose and down my throat, make some vocalizations, receive an “all clear” from him, and on my way for another year.
That visit was different, however. This time he spotted a polyp on one of the vocal folds. He said he didn’t think it was anything to be concerned about, but considering my history, he wanted to err on the side of caution and recommended a biopsy to be sure. Since he’s on the verge of retirement (same guy I’ve been seeing for the last 20+ years) and now only working part time, he referred me to a colleague.
I met the new doc (very easy on the eyes—very easy), and was immediately impressed with how thoughtful, thorough, and caring he was. He had a look at the little nubbin as well, agreed with the assessment of my primary ENT, and scheduled the biopsy for last Friday.
Even though I was getting knocked out completely, I figured it would still be a simple in-and-out procedure just like such things have always been in the past. I was wrong. My O2 levels in recovery were consistently below 90%. I ended up being put on supplemental oxygen and was checked into the hospital for observation. They attempted to wean me off the O2, but were continually unsuccessful. After a CT scan, a pulmonologist was brought in, and she suspected lingering pneumonia or some other non-specific respiratory infection based on the imaging. It was her opinion I was well enough to go home on a full course of antibiotics and if I was willing to stay on the O2
By that time I was crawling the walls to get out and jumped at the opportunity.
So here we are. I have a followup this afternoon with the surgeon. I had to run some vials over to the hospital this morning and I took a chance and went without being hooked up to the O2 (the hospital is only a few minutes from the house and I had the canister with me just in case). The whole time my meter was reading between 93 and 95%, which is the best it’s been since all this started, so it looks like the antibiotics are finally taking hold.
And oh yeah…I’m home for the duration of the antibiotics, so there is something positive to come out of all this.
If you don’t have insurance they just want you to die.
And sometimes even if you do.
I’m all for this. But at the same time—if I may play Devil’s advocate here for a moment—where will the money come from to fund the doctors’, nurses’, and staff salaries? Who will pay for building and maintaining the hospitals and treatment centers? Who will fund research?
Government, yes. But where will the government get that money?
Where they get money for everything else. Taxes.
Taxes that—as of the way everything in this country is structured right now—will most adversely affect the poor.
So technically speaking, healthcare still won’t be free—althought it most definitely will be cheaper than going into the ER for a relatively minor upper respiratory infection that could’ve been handled by your Primary Care Physician or even an Urgent Care facility, but ending up with an overnight hospital stay “for observation” and walking out the next day with a $10 prescription and a $14K bill…
(Yes, this happened to me a couple months ago. Thankfully I’d already met my insurance deductible for the year and it cost me only a few dollars, but not everyone is so lucky.)
Damn the Republicans all to Hell.
I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have decent insurance. Come to think of it, I do know. I’d die.
I’m on two types of insulin, as undoubtedly most Type 2 diabetics are: a short acting type to be taken before meals, and a once-a-day long-acting variety that helps keep glucose stable the rest of the time.
In my particular case, it’s Novolog for short-acting, and Tresiba for long-acting. My endocrinologist prescribes these in 90 days supplies which—as you can imagine—is a lot of boxes of pre-filled syringes. With my insurance I pay $80 for each 90-day supply; a steal I know. I looked at the retail price they conveniently print out on each order, and I was beyond shocked. (The same goes for the other medications I take on a regular basis.)
Novolog—which is basically just plain old insulin—in that 90-day quantity retails for $3100. The Tresiba goes for $2400.
So, four refills a year of each would come to a grand total of $22,000 a year.
That comes to a little less than a third of my pre-tax income.
Who can afford to pay that?
And don’t even get me started on the cost of the Libre3 monitors…
