The ER Blues
A year ago this month I kicked off The Cheap Seats with a post about my first fake heart attack. The story centered around a visit to the emergency room late one night in July 2011 after I had experienced all of the classic symptoms of an impending heart attack. Before leaving for the hospital, however, I did something many other Americans do who also have high-deductible health insurance plans; I weighed the potential risks of not going to the ER against the cost (in dollars) of doing the smart thing - see a doctor. In hindsight a dangerous gamble, but at the time I hemmed and hawwed for a couple of hours before making the ten minute drive. But it was two emergency room visits this past week that reaffirmed for me the awful predicament many families across America also find themselves in - the Crisis of Cost vs. Care.
Wednesday evening: I picked up my daughter from dance practice and headed home to make dinner. We weren't settled in for more than 15 minutes before she started to complain of a deep, sharp pain on the right side of her abdomen. Appendicitis, we both wondered. After waiting ten more minutes, asking her all of the requisite amateur doctor questions and witnessing her becoming increasingly panicky, we raced to the ER.
Saturday morning: like most tech-dependent people, I check my phone/iPad every morning for text messages, emails, etc. Two messages from my kids' mother: 1) my son had a snowboard accident Friday night; 2) can you bring him to the emergency room. 30 minutes later it's deva vu as the glass-door to ER registration slid apart and I walked through again with my older child.
Mercifully, these two ER visits were different from my own hospital stay in one crucial way - insurance coverage. The meter had been furiously running when I was poked, scanned and x-rayed during my own ER trip. The final tally: $1,986.32, well short of the $2,400 family deductible that had to be met before the coverage would begin to insure me. In other words, the expense was all mine. The only saving grace to this story was that - 2011 being the first year my employer switched to a high-deductible health insurance plan - a large portion of the family plan deductible would be paid for by my employer in the form of a deposit into a personal health savings account. But - after the first year - such generosity would be fazed out.
Wisely, last spring, my ex-wife and I begin talking about switching the kids over to her health insurance, effective July 2012. While this would mean a larger monthly cost, the expense would be more predictable, nullifying the kind financial Armageddon I had experienced with my fake heart attack. Why? Her plan had larger monthly premium but a zero deductible.
But, over time adults realize that money comes and money goes. There are always bills, always unexpected expenses, always purchases to make. No biggie, that's life. Health insurance is no different. But when we made our health insurance change last summer, we received something that is impossible to quantify. We received peace of mind.
Complete honesty time. If we had still been on my high-deductible insurance plan I would have done a bit more hesitating regarding my children's pains before doing the right thing. Yes, that sounds terrible, I know. But I also think that similar hand-wringing is shared by millions of middle-income Americans. Thankfully, I was spared that agony and guilt. Too many parents nation-wide are not.
Fortunately, all of the medical tests my daughter received came back negative. She is free to keep kicking and jazz-stepping with her danceline team. And my son didn't break his leg, although an expensive (but fully covered) MRI scan of his hip will likely have to be taken in a few days. Nonetheless, their mother and I are free of the stress of figuring out how to pay for it all.
What a difference a year makes.
I don't have any solutions of course, just concerns. Lots of them. I admire lawmakers who want to provide adequate health insurance to Americans who are uninsured. I think that speaks to our level of national morality and compassion. But the current system (and possibly the one about to be put in place) is borne on the backs of a struggling and shrinking middle class (whatever that term even means anymore). This is the same class of people that currently pays for the ER visits of the uninsured working (and non-working) poor while desperately trying to figure out how to pay for their own family's out-of-pocket medical expenses.
It's enough to give a mom or dad the Emergency Room Blues . . .
Wednesday evening: I picked up my daughter from dance practice and headed home to make dinner. We weren't settled in for more than 15 minutes before she started to complain of a deep, sharp pain on the right side of her abdomen. Appendicitis, we both wondered. After waiting ten more minutes, asking her all of the requisite amateur doctor questions and witnessing her becoming increasingly panicky, we raced to the ER.
Saturday morning: like most tech-dependent people, I check my phone/iPad every morning for text messages, emails, etc. Two messages from my kids' mother: 1) my son had a snowboard accident Friday night; 2) can you bring him to the emergency room. 30 minutes later it's deva vu as the glass-door to ER registration slid apart and I walked through again with my older child.
Mercifully, these two ER visits were different from my own hospital stay in one crucial way - insurance coverage. The meter had been furiously running when I was poked, scanned and x-rayed during my own ER trip. The final tally: $1,986.32, well short of the $2,400 family deductible that had to be met before the coverage would begin to insure me. In other words, the expense was all mine. The only saving grace to this story was that - 2011 being the first year my employer switched to a high-deductible health insurance plan - a large portion of the family plan deductible would be paid for by my employer in the form of a deposit into a personal health savings account. But - after the first year - such generosity would be fazed out.
Wisely, last spring, my ex-wife and I begin talking about switching the kids over to her health insurance, effective July 2012. While this would mean a larger monthly cost, the expense would be more predictable, nullifying the kind financial Armageddon I had experienced with my fake heart attack. Why? Her plan had larger monthly premium but a zero deductible.
But, over time adults realize that money comes and money goes. There are always bills, always unexpected expenses, always purchases to make. No biggie, that's life. Health insurance is no different. But when we made our health insurance change last summer, we received something that is impossible to quantify. We received peace of mind.
Complete honesty time. If we had still been on my high-deductible insurance plan I would have done a bit more hesitating regarding my children's pains before doing the right thing. Yes, that sounds terrible, I know. But I also think that similar hand-wringing is shared by millions of middle-income Americans. Thankfully, I was spared that agony and guilt. Too many parents nation-wide are not.
Fortunately, all of the medical tests my daughter received came back negative. She is free to keep kicking and jazz-stepping with her danceline team. And my son didn't break his leg, although an expensive (but fully covered) MRI scan of his hip will likely have to be taken in a few days. Nonetheless, their mother and I are free of the stress of figuring out how to pay for it all.
What a difference a year makes.
I don't have any solutions of course, just concerns. Lots of them. I admire lawmakers who want to provide adequate health insurance to Americans who are uninsured. I think that speaks to our level of national morality and compassion. But the current system (and possibly the one about to be put in place) is borne on the backs of a struggling and shrinking middle class (whatever that term even means anymore). This is the same class of people that currently pays for the ER visits of the uninsured working (and non-working) poor while desperately trying to figure out how to pay for their own family's out-of-pocket medical expenses.
It's enough to give a mom or dad the Emergency Room Blues . . .
Comments
Post a Comment