It is good to see some of my friends and family check in, by way of my blog, to see how I'm doing. They can call me on my cell of course, but burning minutes isn't always the best way to say, I'm fine, how're you? How's the wife. And the kids? -- you know the drill.
The short of it is I'm getting better. My last visit to the cardiologist was precisely that, I fear: my last. The insurance is expired, this after getting 12 weeks beyond my departure from work in order to visit a hospital room for 9 nights & 10 days back in December. Since then, I've been taking my meds semi-religiously, maybe missing all of two days total. The cardiologist expressed a smile when I told him I'm getting bills from the hospital now, charging me $441 for everytime I visit him. Geez! The EKG takes all of, what, 30 seconds? "Is that what it costs to see me?" he says. "Gonna have to ask for a raise."
"Don't do that," I tell 'im, "they'll only jack me higher."
Christ! I could pay less for more quality time with an escort. And, uhm, hmm... There's an idea.
He was stoic when I said I didn't know when I could come back in. "Well, our door is always open."
Yah, thanks, doc. Check ya' later on the driving range, eh?
So I've just received my last disability check and now I'll have to switch over to Cobra, payments of which will raise me from $120 to, ballpark, $400-a-month. Love that American health coverage -- not!
But I have a month's worth of meds with renewal for another month, but the doc was emphatic when he suggested I shouldn't continue unobserved, i.e., without a doctor advising me along the way. I interpret that to mean I shouldn't continue at all. Just drop dead, eh? I mean, my hospital bills are coming in like snowflakes on an impending Nor'easter, and I haven't even seen the bill for the cardioversion procedure I underwent a few weeks ago. Should be for a few grand, I'd bet. Meanwhile, moths fly out & about whenever I open my wallet. Did you not hear me say "disability??"
I smile as I rue my situation. It's all so sublime. The credit cards are shelved. Everybody wants a piece of my buhttox for lack of the greenbacks forthcoming. I watch Hillary pound her "Universal! Health! Care!" mantra, knowing well how full of shit she is. The Clinton motus operandi is to capitulate well before they have to and get less for the people than they could have. And this was before she was #2 on the insurance industry's Christmas card list. Bottom line for America, my good people, is that outstanding medical balances will ever exceed the coverage they ought otherwise to provide. And she insists it to be "affordable." Like, big good goddamn deal!
Ah, the white tea at the Little Dog is, at least, some comfort. Shame the place closes in 3 minutes.
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