I’m healthy as a horse, but a body part was bugging me, so at my annual check up I asked to see a specialist. I love my family doc, er I mean “primary care,” and I love this specialist. They’re the best there is. And they’re victims of the system as much as we. I’m grateful they’re here just when I need them, with all their years of training and miraculous skills. I don’t want to cause them trouble, so let’s call it “body part X.”
It took months to get authorization for the specialist, thanks to insurance lunacy. Meanwhile X got worse, but still I expected just a routine new prescription.
The new doc walked in, took one look, and said, “You’ve got [deleted] here, and also there. You can go on like that for a while, and I could just write you another prescription for Y [as it's been handled before]. But you’ll be back in a year because it will get worse. It’s not for me to tell you what to do, but we can replace [body part X] with an implant…
“Outpatient surgery takes 20 minutes, insurance pays for it all because it’s legally classified as ‘medically necessary’ since otherwise you’re going to lose your Z [essential function]. Then you can forget about the problem, you’ll be done.” (And no, it wasn’t prostate cancer.)
“Outpatient surgery”? So professional.
Me? I’ve just been told, “you’re getting a knife in a real scary place.” .... MORE...
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