I’m sure you remember that a couple of weeks past I told you that I tripped and put my arm through a glass door. I did tell you that, didn’t I? Nope I just checked. I started to write it. Saved it in drafts and forgot about it. So. The whole story.
On June 3rd I was turning our enclosed porch into a bedroom for the summer. I pushed myself beyond tired, tripped and put my hand through a glass door. I could post a picture of the resulting lacerations but it wasn’t pretty and some of you might feel queasy. I called my good friend whose son is an EMT. He patched me up, told me to go to emergency and my good friend took me there. My own lovely sons cleaned up the glass and the blood – which was brave of them considering how shook up they were over the amount of blood I got everywhere.
A cute, if somewhat lackadaisical Doctor stitched me up after a nurse cleaned the glass out of my hand and arm, I sat around a couple of hours, and had xrays to make sure the glass had been removed. I got five stitches, a antibiotic and a clean dressing. Oh and I got to spend between two and three hours in the emergency room talking with my friend. She also took pictures of the bloody gash, so if you feel you must see it, let me know.
So today we got the bill, which I will post below after blocking out any personal information. Got to be smart about these things, you know.
You may not be able to see the detail, so here’s a close up:
Here’s my breakdown:
Over three hundred dollars for a nurse to check me in, wash the glass out and three hours of sitting in a room with specialized equipment. Okay. I guess that is fair.
Seventy-seven dollars for a couple of chucks, a bottle of saline or whatever that was they poured on my arm. May just have been sterilized water for all I know. A sterilized dressing and a bandage to wrap around my arm after the stitches went it. Umm, folks, I could have bought that stuff at a pharmacy for twenty bucks. Thirty tops. Maybe you should look into where you’re getting this stuff from. Or wait. You’re charging me a mark up? 50%? Well that explains that.
One, count it, ONE antibiotic tablet. $127.33. Hello?
Radiology. $269. Well there was a beautiful mural on the wall and someone has to pay for that, right? No, I get it, radiologist’s salary, tech’s salary, fancy equipment. I won’t argue this one.
The Doctor’s professional fees: $582.00. Okay, so he was cute and charming. He spent maybe a total of fifteen minutes with me and put five stitches in my arm. Excuse me for saying this, I’m sure he’s a really nice guy and all, but that is a total ripoff. And yes I know he had to go to medical school, but shit $2000+ an hour? Get real. And not only that but there were several other patients in the ER and he had to be charging them the same amount.
And to add insult to injury? I’m going to show you the scar left on my arm. I could have used butterfly bandages on my arm and saved myself the cost, because this is one hell of a scar. Pardon me if I sound a little bitter. Of course my insurance picked up some of the bill, I’m only $527.74 out of pocket. I feel kind of like – who was it, Arlo Guthrie maybe – who paid $100 fine and had to pick up the garbage? Only I got to pay $500 and I still came out with a hell of a scar. Next time I’ll pick my own glass out of my hand and stick a bandage on the laceration. I’d be ahead financially, and I’m sure the scar couldn’t be any worse.