reverse threading

the path back is the path forward


1 Comment

a broken system. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

growing up, we each had family doctors. general practitioners who saw us regularly for physicals as well as being available when there was a crisis point, a concern, an illness, an injury. when presented with such a thing (a physical crisis, a concern, an illness, an injury) one would call the doctor and they would “fit you in”, addressing your crisis/concern/illness/injury and sending you on your way. they were well-versed with you, your history, even your family history; distilling information to get to a diagnosis and treatment were aided by this consistent relationship.

not so much anymore.

david has a new pcp. his pcp moved and a new guy replaced him. we have no doubt that this new pcp has every good intention for his work in medicine.

david’s annual physical was booked with this new guy, who did all (and only – per insurance guidelines) the annual physical stuff (eyes, nose, throat, blood pressure, weight) and ordered the typical annual physical fasting lab work for the next day.

d fasted, had his bloodwork done, and checked on his livewell portal for the results.

and then the bill arrived.

suffice it to say i have made ten communications (phone, email, portal) to the dr’s office, the billing department, the insurance company to correct the bill we received which charged us for the labwork – preventative bloodwork – a standard in healthcare insurance 100% coverage (including d’s healthcare insurance).

alas…the healthcare provider coded his visit a “welcome visit”.

“ahhh,” i said to d. “so you dudes just sat around visiting, sipping a whiskey and shooting the breeze???”

he stared at me.

“your doctor’s office and billing department have coded your annual physical as a welcome visit. that sounds like visiting, a few appetizers, a whiskey, cutesy conversation….”

he shook his head.

after ten phone calls, emails, contacts through the portal – with the nurse at the doctor’s office calling billing to say (words to the effect) “oh no…this was david’s annual physical” – we have since received an insurance denial for the preventative lab tests and services and an updated bill from the healthcare provider that states we are overdue. so. cue up either the eleventh phone call or relinquish to the checkbook.

and now, as d has been bitten by some toxic something-or-other which has spread and swollen and looks mighty angry, this same healthcare service – his very own primary care physician’s office – has offered a possible appointment two weeks out.

two weeks.

i cannot help but wonder what toxins are in his system that are making his body react this way and what waiting two weeks might mean.

this, of course, pushes us to visit an urgent care or the emergency room, both already overburdened.

i’m not really sure how that helps the healthcare provider, but I’m guessing there is some way that a trip to urgent care/emergency room will net that umbrella healthcare provider a bit more billing, a tad more profit.

generations before us expected some kind of relationship with their doctor, their doctor’s office. the next generation after us is accustomed to using urgent care, telehealth, the emergency room. they don’t expect a relationship.

while we appreciate the presence of urgent care, the ER and telehealth, we are stuck in the middle generation – where we still think that relationship is part of healthcare, where we think consistency and the sharing of medical history over time are imperatives, where paying such exorbitant prices for insurance is supposed to ensure being insured.

but american healthcare is doing a good job of making us non-believers. it is truly a broken system – in a billion ways.

unconscionable that this country does such a poor job of taking care of its populace.

and – now – as we all know – at a time when health and care are going by the they-don’t-give-a-damn-about-health-or-care-of-the-people wayside – it will only get worse.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

like. subscribe. share. support. comment. – thank you. xoxo

buymeacoffee is a website where you may directly support an artist whose work directly impacts you.


Leave a comment

open season. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

we’re getting all the mail – snail mail, email, texts, phone messages. tons of correspondence this holiday season. and all about … healthcare.

because forget about thanksgiving, forget about the gatherings of family and friends, forget about the holidays. we are now in healthcare open season. ok, they call it open enrollment….but it’s clearly one and the same….and the other day – when we saw a hunter, all geared up in camouflage, stride into the woods – it made me think of healthcare open season.

we – david and i and, in amusing moments, my former dear husband as well – are all receiving every manner of advertising for our healthcare. i must say – there is something vastly wrong about this – ads, brochures, glossy words schmoozing us about healthcare.

so we have until the 7th of december to lock in our medicare wishes, in addition to our chosen drug plan. we have until the 15th of december to sign up for whichever “affordable” care act (ACA) plan we wish. it’s all a bit like gambling and there really is no actuary on earth – sans a fortune teller – who can predict what we might really need, what we might really benefit from, what teeniest-tiny details in each plan might be relevant, what might not make us financially suffer.

but wait! there’s more! because now we are at the threshold of new stuff! there is a concept of a plan out there – floating in the universe somewhere – to change the lives of all americans who need healthcare which, ummm, is all of us.

maybe it will be like something we’ve never seen before! maybe something that might place the health and well-being of the populace highest on the priority list!! maybe something that won’t bankrupt people or place healthcare as the apex reason for being impossibly financially strapped. maybe it won’t be privatized in any way, won’t be so insanely priced that it necessitates government subsidies – which, incidentally, will likely disappear anyway in this regime. maybe something that will be like industrialized nations around the world! maybe – just maybe – universal healthcare!!

you are dreaming, i warn myself.

because magaland is not interested in what’s best for actual people. the bottom line, the bottom line, they scream! money, money, money, they insist! and so, instead, their concept is to go back to the days when pre–existing conditions were like leprosy to insurance companies. their concept is to severely cut medicaid, healthcare for the needy. their concept is to eliminate medicare supplemental plans – eliminating choice for people in their own healthcare, foisting privatized advantage plans upon unsuspecting purchasers who think that getting $80 in toothpaste is advantageous over the freedom of seeking out appropriate physicians and facilities and treatment plans for their own needs. their concept will keep regular americans poorer, all in their efforts to make the oligarchy richer. their concept is to be limiting, repressive, serving their own pockets and the pockets of their cronies in some kind of weird quest to make america unhealthier.

it’s all a sad story. and i’m wondering which maga-voters out there are now “learning” all this – suddenly knowledge (all available PRIOR to the election, i might add) is now more abundant. suddenly, some of the corrupt and cruel “policies” (and i use that term loosely) don’t seem like they are in your best interest. suddenly, it occurs to you that this looming autocracy wasn’t really a good idea.

oh well. que sera sera.

in the meanwhile, we’ve gotta don our camouflage and hunt down some healthcare.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

like. share. subscribe. support. comment. – thank you. xoxo

buymeacoffee is a website where you may directly impact an artist whose work directly impacts you. xoxo


1 Comment

and then, medicare. [saturday morning smack-dab.]

it’s gettin-to-be-that-time.

shocking, isn’t it?

in december i have to chooooose. good grief. already?! the pressure.

we have had the good fortune of friends who have that-timed-it before us. and so, we are relying heavily on their medicare smarts. we even had an in-service up-north with our gang. handouts and everything.

so, when it comes time to actually signing up, we are hoping that it will be with ease.

because the fact-of-the-matter is that medicare – like most government programs – is not streamlined, not easy to understand, nothing less than dense, filled with loopholes and scary ramifications, rules and rules for rules.

and this is supposed to be a happy-happy social good-health-for-all program.

easy-peasy.

uh-huh.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

SMACK-DAB. ©️ 2023 kerrianddavid.com


Leave a comment

fog. [k.s. friday]

and, if i am honest, i would tell you that i can feel the fog lifting. finally. i don’t think i knew the extent of the fog because fog is kind of like that. dense and clammy, less penetrable by light. once you are in it, you feel somewhat disoriented and everything looks different. you can’t really tell how foggy it is because suddenly you have nothing with which to compare it.

we underestimate the importance of attending to our emotional health. yes, there are all kinds of positive memes out there. yes, there are self-help books galore. yes, there are commercials on tv recommending therapy. yes, yes, yes. but we are stoic, we humans, and we are also stubborn and self-conscious. and many of us underplay how we are feeling, so as not to make others uncomfortable with our grappling. people ask how we are and our answer is “fine”. it’s just too too much to give a real answer. most people prefer answers with a little vague blurriness.

i ran into someone a bit ago at the fedex store. she asked me how i was. i told her. i don’t mean i told her “fine”. i actually told her. i can’t say it was a mistake, but she was writhing and trying to get away, though i was simply telling her how i was. i wasn’t verbose; it didn’t take much to say i had been struggling. but it was a truth and maybe she would have rather heard that everything that had happened in the last couple years took no toll. she wanted everything to be “fine”.

i recently saw a meme on someone’s facebook page. it read: “people don’t want to be talked out of their feelings. people want to be heard, seen, felt and understood.” (rachel samson) i always wonder if the people who post such things really mean them. surely they have also experienced times of soupy, where there was a ceiling of zero and they were feeling all of what life had tossed them.

it is in looking back at the dissipating cloud of fog that you know a little more the extent of your murky. it is in noticing light peeking in that you know a little more the extent of the loss of light. it is in seeing more clearly that you know a little more how much clarity was missing. it is in feeling my shoulders rise that i know that i have been bent under the weight of some sadness, some disappointment, some confusion.

though we all function in the middle of our haze, out of necessity, out of self-preservation, out of obligation, there is a moment when a pinprick of brightness burns through. we realize that the horizon is still there and that now, with the lure of distinct light and the buoys of clarity, we are headed in that direction. we’ve been brave and we’ve pulled energy from every cell to get to to that point and we keep taking steps, taking steps.

it isn’t easy. despite advertising dollars spent, this society is not really about self-help. it does not encourage time to be within oneself, time to rejuvenate, time to be healthy. our ideals push success and prosperity, seemingly at the price of balance. there is a cost for sharing what is real, for standing in fog, a worry of judgement and marks of weakness in our permanent record.

it’s up to each of us to step aside the everchugging uphill-downhill train and catch our breath. it’s up to each of us to breathe slowly and sort to that which makes us sit on the fulcrum of the nonstop seesaw. it’s up to each of us to be gentle on ourselves, to lighten up, to seek soft days that feed us and give us strength for the other days. it’s up to each of us to stand in self-care, to not worry ourselves with wondering about the judgement of others. it’s up to each of us to eliminate the stigma of admitting struggle. it’s up to each of us to support one another in the times of fog, to mean it if we ask “how are you?”. it’s up to each of us to reach and touch the curtain of fog as it lifts, grateful not only for its leaving, but for what we learned about its presence.

“the fog has lifted
the weight is gone
lightness has returned
singing is in me
humor also
light again
and i do not know why- “

(shalom freedman)

download music from my little corner of iTUNES

stream on PANDORA

read DAVID’S thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

WHEN THE FOG LIFTS from THIS PART OF THE JOURNEY ©️ 1997, 2000 kerri sherwood


Leave a comment

way, way past time. [d.r. thursday]

“whenever you see a successful woman, look out for three men who are going out of their way to try to block her.” (yulia tymoshenko)

i read this quote on instagram. i hesitated to use it and then wondered why. it stated truth. it is a fact of life. i have lived it – exactly it – just as many other women have. so why hesitate?

the answer seems obvious. because that kind of blocking still exists, that kind of dominance is still valued, that kind of discrimination still squelches lives and careers, that kind of smothering effort – particularly with leading roles by older white men – is still not – really – questioned, nonetheless challenged in a big, broad way. it’s asphyxiating and it’s way past its time. way, way past time.

“it’s 2021 and we are talking about THIS!” they rolled their eyes and so did i. it is beyond the scope of reasonableness that we are – still – dealing with the devastating blows that those who lean into … or out-and-out embrace … the prejudice of white supremacy, suffocating gender bias, ruinous economic inequity, insufficient healthcare, deficient educational options, the loss of multitudes of innocent lives at the barrel of unnecessary weapons, exclusive immigration…

but here we are. 2021.

we came upon the hot-pink lighted ball of yarn in the garden and laughed. then we followed the string, the yarn that was unrolled over the tree branches, under the bushes, along the sidewalk edge, up the fence, down off the fence, and ultimately, to the end of it, the frayed edges.

it occurs to me we can trace the strings back and back. we can see the frayed edges of injustices, the repeating pattern of silencing, of stifling, of deliberate lack, of unacceptable levels of violence, of obstructive intention.

what now?

we need be stewards of worth, of mending, of healing, of forward-movement, of equal opportunity. we need to find ways – now – to weave an inclusive, equitable, generous, safe, egalitarian story for all. ungrudgingly and with abundant kindness and good will. it is indeed way, way past time.

2021. what are we doing?

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY


1 Comment

fluid. with wings. [k.s. friday]

“when she transformed into a butterfly, the caterpillars spoke not of her beauty, but of her weirdness. they wanted her to change back into what she always had been. but she had wings.” (dean jackson)

“trust the wait. embrace the uncertainty. enjoy the beauty of becoming. when nothing is certain, anything is possible.” (mandy hale)

i had an IME on tuesday. an IME is an independent medical exam. it is a brief exam ordered by an insurance company and the physician is both chosen and paid for by that insurance company. it is defined as an independent assessment of an injury or illness, in my case, my wrist, and the determination by the doctor-chosen-and-paid-for-by-the-insurance-company-paying-for-treatment will be placed next to the reports of the medical hand specialist and the occupational therapist who have been treating me consistently for the last five months. a basic review of articles about IME reveals that the insurance-company-paying-for-treatment will pick the report they wish to concur with and that will decide if there is to be future, in this case, my future, treatment. so be it.

there is nothing to do now but wait.

my OT is wonderful. she has encouraged me, pushed me, held me accountable and she has brought me from twenty degrees of forward right wrist movement to fifty-five. this is big news, since, at first, six degrees was all i could muster. brutus and my OT have caused me much pain, but what’s that saying? no pain, no gain. we have worked hard. and, in the way of hard work and healing, there are things i can do now that i wasn’t able to do a few months ago. and there are things i fear i will never be able to do again. uncertainty.

there is nothing to do but wait.

sometimes i wonder what life will look like in a year or two years. i wonder what i will be doing. if i looked back a year i would never have guessed back then what this year would have looked like. no, last july looked very different than right now. it just suggests that truly everything is uncertain, that everything is in the act of becoming, in the middle of the fire, maybe everything is ashes transitioning to riches over and over again. possibility, evidenced in tomato plants bearing fruit on an old barnwood potting stand, evidenced in a nest-home created in a birdhouse hanging empty for years, evidenced in the smell of the rain bringing cool on a summer morning.

there are times, when you are simply going about your business, going about life, that you don’t expect change. you don’t expect to be thrust into ‘different’. times when you find out the caterpillars were talking about you all along. after reeling from the surprise, after trying to grab the wheel to stabilize, after railing about the unfairness of it all – for life does not seem to be fair, you find yourself out of the deep, dark water – in the shallows.

and in the shallows there is abundant life, abundant food, abundant shelter. in the shallows we can rest and nourish and breathe. we can sit in uncertainty and the unknown. we can imagine new. because anything IS possible.

there is nothing to wait for and everything to wait for. it’s now.

i’ve written here about transition before. and again. and again. and i suspect i will yet again.

because life, i am learning over and over, is one transition after another. fluid. with wings.

*****

listen to music on my little corner of iTUNES

tune into an ever-growing library on PANDORA

read DAVID’S thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

IN TRANSITION from RELEASED FROM THE HEART ©️ 1995 kerri sherwood


Leave a comment

covid test. the unknown. [merely-a-thought monday]

the unknown is often worse than reality. i had all kinds of monsters in my head battering my nerves, just thinking about having a covid test. i wasn’t feeling well and, with my symptoms aligning with the utterly vast myriad of symptoms attributable to coronavirus, i was checking the list and checking it twice. worried and already quarantining for 14 days since we had been exposed, we scheduled tests. and i started getting nervous. it felt like we were living inside a sci-fi movie.

my adrenaline was rushing before we left the house. i felt shaky. it was a big response to what must have been a letdown for that adrenaline rush. the test itself was easy, painless. it was a rapid test and we knew we would find out our results in a mere half hour.

david’s came – “negative,” read the email. my email asked me to come back inside for a confirmatory test, a specimen that would be sent to a lab for results that might have a slightly lower degree of fallibility. we went back in, standing on the dots stickering the floor, slathering with hand sanitizer, speaking through two-ply masks. and now, we wait.

we have been inordinately careful. we’ve been wearing masks, washing hands, our fruit, the bottles of wine gift-delivered at our front door. we’ve wiped our groceries and kept our mail separated. we have distanced and not gathered. we have worried about ourselves. we have worried about my girl and my boy. we have worried about david’s parents and all our family members out of town. we have worried about the people in our community, the customers and staff at the corner store, the people in line at the grocery. we have tried to be respectful. it has mattered.

a friend re-posted a meme today that read, “it shouldn’t have to happen to you for it to matter to you.” this feels like the baseline, a low bar of compassion, the starting gate of people taking precautions to protect other people. it has been stunning to watch people of this country ignore all cautions about a pandemic raging across the nation. a dear friend, way earlier in the year and in the early arc of this devastating disease sweeping the world, wrote that the lyrics “you would cry too if it happened to you” were on replay in her mind. a number of people were quoted as saying, “i don’t know how to explain to you why you should care about other people.”

what does it take?

there truly are no exceptions. we have been instructed in the use of masks, the advantages of social distancing, the merits of proper handwashing. as things have been escalating up the devastation scale, we have been encouraged to limit our gatherings, to not travel, to not have parties, to not make exceptions. because, truly, there aren’t any. every one of our lives is valuable. every single one. to be cavalier is to take chances. big chances. it is all an unknown.

healthcare workers and hospitals are overwhelmed. they are at the brink of collapse. yet, households of people are gathering together, playing a russian roulette covid game. citizens of this country are dying in situations that are “harder, scarier and lonelier than necessary.” yet, people are refusing to wear a simple piece of cloth on their face. the statistics of this pandemic are exponentially climbing. yet, people on the trail fail to move six feet away as they pass, people in the grocery store have masks around their chins, people regularly scoff at the science – S C I E N C E – that is guiding the medical experts.

on monday evening, in the middle of our quarantine, i had intense pain breathing. my lungs, my windpipe, my trachea were on fire when i took a deep breath. i had a video chat with a nurse who told me to go to the ER and have an EKG to rule out a heart event. i did not believe i was having a heart event. to me, it seemed pretty clear that it was a breathing issue, but there are definite limitations to having a medical visit online and i understood her desire to err on the side of caution. because of the sheer arrogance of people who scorn the restrictions to help with this pandemic, our healthcare system has been forced to regulate that only patients are allowed into the hospital. the very idea that i would be going A-L-O-N-E into the hospital, perhaps with something serious, was more terrifying than not going. thank you to all those people in this country who have foisted this gross unfairness on anyone suffering, on anyone in a medical emergency, on anyone hospitalized for absolutely any reason. the lack of compassion for others is abhorrent.

one morning we made a big pot of texas chili. we loaded a folding table into little-baby-scion. we packed plates and plasticware and cups. we drove over to 20’s and set up our folding table at least 8 feet from his folding table in his open garage. and we had chili together with our coats on and blankets covering our legs in the open-air cold garage. two days later he had symptoms and two days after that he tested positive. his covid was gifted to him from a friend of his sister’s who casually walked into his sister’s apartment while he was working there. she wore no mask and boasted of a party she had attended. she clearly did not care. it did not matter to her that 20 has chronic asthma or that his sister has a compromised immune system. her freedom to not have a piece of cloth over her face was more important.

he called us to tell us. that was the beginning of our 14 days. we didn’t go anywhere except outside to walk. no stores, no gatherings, nothing. nowhere. it was unknown to us if we were contagious. it was unknown to us if david was asymptomatic. it was unknown to us if my symptoms were covid. but it mattered to us.

meanwhile, 20, who needs a new cellphone did not purchase one. “why not?” i battered him with questions. he told us that he didn’t want to spend the money if he wasn’t going to live. the unknown. i want to shake the supposed-friend of his sister’s who just didn’t care. “what is wrong with you?” i want to scream at her.

and now. waiting. by the time this publishes i hope that i am done waiting. but in the meanwhile, i am waiting. for the unknown.

read DAVID’S thoughts this MERELY-A-THOUGHT MONDAY


Leave a comment

two broken wrists. and the saga continues. [k.s. friday]

and the saga continues

bananas.  they were $.49 lb.  we picked up a bunch and walked to the register.  a moment later, with no question or drama, we paid our $1.17 and left.

the next step in my two-broken-wrists saga is occupational therapy.  not because we do everything with our hands.  not because we write with them and open doors with them.  not because we use them for our personal hygiene or because we cook with them.  not because we drive with them or dress with them or shake hands with them.  but because using my hands IS what i do.  the therapist asked me how long i have played the piano.  53 years.  it’s what i DO.  so getting my wrists back to pre-snowboard-fall is imperative to me.  there are no other options.

before we went to this first appointment i, responsibly, called our healthcare insurance company – the one we pay $29,000 a year to – the one with the slogan ” for the care you need at a price you can afford” – to check in about the coverage of OT.  i was told, after much menu-choosing, that i am limited to 20 visits and that the cost will be $50 per visit.  with the OT’s recommendation that my getting-these-wrists-back-trajectory would involve appointments twice a week, that would add $400 to the already-$2400/month in healthcare costs.  bracing.  impossible.

the OT office checked in with me to remind me of my appointment, coincidentally, just after i hung up with the insurance company.  i told them what i had just learned and they insisted i was wrong.  “no,” i was told, “we have never heard of molina charging ANYthing for a copay.”  I asked them to please double-check for me and they assured me they would and that they would apprise me at my appointment.

when i arrived, the receptionist checking me in told me that they had their 23-year-insurance-veteran in the office check and that there would be no copay.  i asked them to provide a written document to that effect so that if and when i was billed i would have recourse.  they assured me that they would triple-check and to stop back after my appointment.

at the end of my appointment with the therapist, the receptionist told me that “no, you don’t have to pay $50 per visit.  it’s actually worse.  instead, you have to pay 100% of all fees until your thousands-of-dollars-deductible is met.”  what?!!!!  now this is the third story i am hearing about the same service with the same provider and the same insurance company.  who am i to believe?

i stood there and literally cried in front of the receptionist in the middle of the waiting area.  you mean to tell me that our $29,000 a year doesn’t really cover much of anything???  this is blatantly wrong, grossly outrageous.

bernie sanders, if you have listened to him speak, has given a example of the perverted and pathetic healthcare in this country.  he speaks about a family who makes $60,000 a year and that this family must pay $12,000 for healthcare.  “that’s 20% of their gross income,” he bellows.  what i wish he would add is this next example:  consider a couple who makes say $65,000 a year (this is the magic healthcare cliff for two people and only $5000 more than the previous example).  that couple will pay anywhere between $24,000 and $29,000 for a policy that will still have high deductibles and yet (clearly) not actually have good coverage.  i want to jump on the bernie-bellowing-band-wagon and yell, “that’s 45% of that couple’s income!!!  what is wrong with that???? EVERYTHING!”  how is it that we can live in this country, the richest country in the world, and have the worst healthcare for our populace?  how is it right to set the populace up for financial disaster when they have to deal with the eventual health scare, injury, illness??  (on a side note, i won’t even beGIN to start talking about Covid-19, for i have nothing good to say about the administration’s handling, lack of information or truth, and unpreparedness for this pandemic that will truly test the resiliency of our country.)

when i could take a breath at the receptionist’s desk i asked, “what do these appointments cost?”  how much is my professionalism worth to me, i am thinking.  i earn my living playing the piano, i am thinking.  i have fifteen albums of piano music, i am thinking.  i am a pianist, i am thinking.  i just need care for my wrists so that i can do what i do, i am thinking.  at what cost, i am thinking.

but healthcare is not like bananas.  i was told, “we can’t answer that.  we don’t know.”  i beg your pardon???  “billing handles that.  and it’s different depending upon insurance plans and whether or not you have appropriate insurance.”  i beg your pardon???? “what if i just wanted to pay cash right now?” i ask.  “you can’t,” she says.  “we don’t know what it costs.”

i wonder if it would be more if i paid cash – after all, i’m not an overstuffed insurance company that has the capacity to deny portions of the billing or disallow costs or base payment on the coding used to describe my treatment, while at the same time accepting ridiculously high premiums from clients with the knowledge that the insurance offered is incomprehensibly lacking.

no.  i’m just a person who needs her hands.

we left, went to the store and bought more bananas.

read DAVID’S thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

ks website header

hands website box

 

 


7 Comments

two broken wrists. [k.s. friday]

two wrists

day 4

it broke more than both my wrists, that snowboarding fall last monday.

it broke my ability to do many things for myself.  it fractured my independence.

it exploded my previous gratitude of those around me, loving and caring for me.  it expanded a dependence on others, particularly david.

it broke through my vulnerability threshold.  it made me acknowledge my modesty and encouraged me to try to stand tall in my new temporary disability.

it broke what i knew about others around me.  it both surprised me in all the best ways and surprised me in all the worst.

it broke my assumption that all things – all my relationships – all my work – would stay the same.  it shattered any sense of security.

it further broke my trust in our country’s healthcare coverage.  it pointedly drove home that point.

it broke through any calm-in-the-storm-around-us i had found.  it exacerbated a profound sense of worry.

it broke my muse.  it scared me, really scared me, and it made me wonder if i would play again, write again, perform again.

day 5.  my quiet piano welcomed me into the studio.  i stood in front of it.  determined.  and i played.  nine fingers, not ten.  not the hand-span of all other days, but never mind.

day 12.  eleven days after breaking them i still wake up, after night’s elusive sleep, surprised to see my wrists, well, more accurately, my cast and hard splint.

i think, “here we go,” and i set out to see what’s beyond two broken wrists.

read DAVID’S thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

ks website header

their palettes website box

 


Leave a comment

“emergency room/urgent care.” [merely-a-thought monday]

er or uc

emergency room to the right.  urgent care to the left.  it was a choice point.

as we drove from the ski hill back to our town, i was worried.  terribly worried.  but my worry was less about my two broken wrists.  it was less about the pain.  it was less about all the things i could see – already – that i couldn’t do for myself.  it was less about my piano and, thus, my life.  it was less about how long it would take to heal and what that healing would look like.  it was less about how important a role david would play for me in this process of getting-my-wrists back.  it was less about how this injury would impact me.

my worry?  it was about what it would cost.

i wracked my brain for all the research i had done in selecting this year’s healthcare plan and how the deductibles work and what is covered and what is not covered and whether x-rays were completely billable sans satisfying our deductible.  i worried about the cost of the emergency room, the cost of the ER staff, the cost of radiology, the cost of casting.  there was a moment, driving through paddock lake, that i began to sob, thinking of the financial worry of all this.   my wrists throbbing, our health “insurance” a whopping $29,000 a year out-of-pocket, and i was sobbing, in the middle of post-injury shock, at the worry of the additional burden this would put on us.

and that’s pretty pitiful.  what a pathetic country in which we live that the first set of thoughts when injured is not getting well, is not healing.

i believe in an effort to more fully understand what i was going through, ptom told me he read a few blogposts written by or about people who had broken both wrists.  it occurred to me that might be a good idea so i googled them.

the first post made me made me frustrated.  after telling the story of her injury, deborah, who lives in new zealand, spoke about her experience with the socialized healthcare in that country.  i wept as i read the motto is “prevent, care, recover,” and there was no cost to her – at all – through diagnosis, treatment, healing, extra care helpers, rehabilitation, transportation.  she lost no work salary during the time of her recuperation.  every single thing was covered and paid.  she states that, “this has been a huge relief to me and has definitely aided in my recovery, because I’m not stressed.”

why am i so amazed by such a humanitarian approach to a nation’s care of its populace?  is that not of utmost priority?  should our population have to worry about seeking care to remain in or regain good health?  what kind of country does not put the health of its people first?

as we approached the hospital in kenosha we had a choice.  emergency room or urgent care.  i asked david to park by urgent care.  in the middle of pain emanating from both my wrists, two slings fashioned by ski patrol around my neck, i thought i remembered that maybe the co-pay or coverage would be more palatable in urgent care.  we sat in big red for a few extra minutes; i repeated i wasn’t sure what to do or not do.  not sure about the differentiation between urgent care and the emergency room, i thought we could at least ask if urgent care could handle what i presented – a need for x-rays and exam and treatment.

we walked into a crowded waiting room.  indeed, they could handle my injuries.  we waited hours with all the others there, many of them with masks covering their mouths and noses.  everyone looked worried.

a very kind doctor examined me, did x-rays, cast me, gave me directions and sent me on my way with follow-up to an orthopedic doctor in a few days.  at that office, a very kind doctor examined me, re-cast me, gave me directions and sent me on my way with a follow-up and more x-rays in ten days, a likely change of cast-type in four weeks, physical/occupational therapy on its heels and a standing invitation to see the reigning hand specialist whose expertise had been proffered.

and, of course, we haven’t received any billing yet.  i’m quite sure that will be the icing on the cake, well, so to speak.

or maybe i should say – that will add insult to injury.

read DAVID’S thoughts this MERELY-A-THOUGHT MONDAY

snowsteps website box