A few weeks ago, I was taking an evening constitutional when, out of nowhere, a wayward bat flew into my face. Fortunately, no biting occurred by either party, and after we collected ourselves and exchanged information, we parted ways with no ill will between us. Being the cautious type, I chose to seek medical council. Bats are frequent carriers of rabies, and I quite enjoy being alive. Little did I realize that I was about to encounter the true blood sucker: not the bat, but the American Healthcare System.
I arrived at the hospital and was advised to receive the rabies vaccine. I obliged, being the #trustscience resistance lib that I am. After all, I opted for the better employer-provided insurance plan available to me. How bad could it be? I received three shots: in the arm, the leg, and the butt. However, there was a secret fourth shot: one directly in the wallet.
After three more shots spread out across as many visits, I got the bill. I could feel the joker makeup materializing on my skin as I read the amount: almost $40,000 before insurance, of which I owed almost $6,000.
Reader, if the hope of this treatment was to prevent me from frothing at the mouth, all efforts were unsuccessful. I was shocked. Surely, this must be a mistake. I reviewed the bill with someone familiar with the putrid, demonic world of medical billing. No mistake was to be found. They actually called the insurance company to negotiate on my behalf. No dice.
Despite spending over $100 on insurance each month, I’ve been saddled with an exorbitant debt that will take months to pay off. For no reason other than to add to my mental anguish, I looked up the CEO of my insurance company. Rather than finding the old west style wanted posters of this clear outlaw I expected to encounter, I found only LinkedIn posts lauding her #girlboss nature, effusive accolades and awards, and a spot on Forbes’ most powerful women list. This for an individual whose livelihood is based on withholding potentially lifesaving healthcare from those who need it for exorbitant costs.
An economy, on paper, should be built on the production and sales of goods. Unfortunately, we live in hell, where instead of an economy, individuals are arbitrarily saddled with debt to be paid off in installments.
It’s too late for me. I exist now not as a human, but as a half-alive creature writhing in the churning maw of the healthcare-based debt creation machine. But perhaps, through voting blue no matter who, asking politely, and owning enough republicans in epic debate, future generations may have some of their medical debt forgiven, granted they are a Pell grant recipient who opens up a business serving an underprivileged community for three years. Then, and only then, will this nightmare be over and we will be free to walk again with dignity and humanity intact.
There is hope.
Have you spoken to the hospital? I presume they're the ones billing you, no? They have two main sources of revenue; insurance and patients. Your insurance only has one; you, so of course their position is no mercy. For the hospital, though, patient revenue is a lot harder to collect and they likely get less than a dime on the dollar on average. If you can beat what the collection agency to which they'll sell your debt will pay, also far less than the nominal amount, they might just take that and call it a day. Maybe not, but worth a shot. Good luck.
None of the above is an endorsement of the status quo and we need a communist revolution; just trying to help a comrade.
This is all great advice and I have spoken to the hospital. They more or less told me to go fuck myself. Worth a try, though!