Chickens vs Credit Card Debt

                   
                     

After several days of gut pain I finally called the Advice Nurse and after discussing my symptoms she strongly suggested I go to Urgent Care. It was 5 pm Sunday afternoon, so she admonished me to hurry that they close at six.

After paying $35 co-pay, I was ushered into an exam room and told the doctor would be in soon. Twenty minutes later the doctor comes in. I am still in my street clothes. He asks me questions, checks my lungs barely touching my stomach. He says I am to go to the lab for tests.

At the lab, the tech takes 3 vials of blood and tells me to pee in a cup. Then I am told to go back across the hall and wait for the doctor to get the tests and then he’ll talk to me.

By now it’s after 7 pm and he tells me that he can find nothing really wrong with my tests, so says I should have a CT scan. I am told I must go to a hospital that is about 14 miles south. After getting my prescription for pain filled (I am delighted that the co-pay is only 99 cents!) it is now 7:30 pm and I have quite a drive ahead of me. The night is dark and clear and for that I am grateful and also very happy to have my GPS.

When I get there, the facility is so mammoth I have to flag someone down in the parking lot to get directions to the main entrance. I am proud of myself when I find the registration. (I am directionally challenged) I am shocked when my co-pay is $175.

As I pull out my credit card, which I only use on special occasions, I am thinking: What have I gotten myself into? (I am a student on a really tight budget.)

I am still in a lot of pain because I am told I must not take the pain pills and drive; that would be unsafe. (Passing out from pain could be unsafe, too, but that is not up for discussion.) You may be thinking: Why doesn’t she get someone to drive her? Nobody is available tonight. I tried. And furthermore, neither of my cats drive.

So, I finally get in and have the CT scan just past 8 pm. Then I am told to wait for a call from the doctor who is deciphering the scan and he will tell me how I am. After about

40 minutes, he calls and tells me that the good news is: I can find nothing really out of order. You’re okay. However, you are constipated and that could account for the pain.

You can buy magnesium citrate over the counter and that should take care of it.

I thank him, shaking my head in amazement as I hang up. As I am driving home I think about what a doctor would have done a hundred years ago. I guess he would feel my belly quite thoroughly, diagnose constipation and send me along with the medicine needed to alleviate the condition. He might also say: Two chickens will be fine; when I ask what I owe him. In this 21^st Century it cost me $210.99 co-pay. Now I ask you, is that progress?

I arrive home after 9 pm feeling whipped. Sigh.