What are We Paying For? The High Costs of Medical Service in the USA

On the blog referred to below, My good friend Bill offers an approach to addressing the question of who pays for health insurance coverage. I am equally concerned with the cost side of the equation, especially the incredibly insane cost of procedures. Before I proceed with commentary on this aspect of the health care story, I need to set the stage by providing some personal background.

First, let me ‘fess up. When it comes to health, I am not your typical Baby Boomer generation specimen. I had my first heart attack at age 46. No, I did not have a cholesterol problem. I wasn’t buff, but I wasn’t obese either. I lead a physically active life. Thanks to my attentive wife Mary, we ate healthy, balanced meals… although I did enjoy the occasional steak. But when you find the proverbial elephant sitting on your chest it gets your attention right away. And so it was that early in the evening of June 17, 1996, while sitting relaxed in front of the tube with Mare,I realized I was having a myocardial infarction, or in Doctorspeak, an "MI." Can you say "heart attack?" Sure. I knew ya could.

Following my scare and hospitalization I religiously attended cardio rehab. Visits to my cardiologist became as ordinary as visits to my dentist. Mare shifted us to a Mediterranean diet. I parked at the end of far end of the lot from my office. Took stairs instead of elevators. In short, I was really into “prevention.” No more elephants on my chest.

Right. About 8 years later, in the fall of 2004,in spite of my preventative measures my heart attacked me again. Within a couple of weeks of the event, my pulse dropped to an alarming 46 bpm. (Think clot and stroke time.) A pacemaker fixed that, and the old ticker purred like a kitten at a steady 60bpm. To my doc’s chagrin, and in spite of her orders, two weeks after the implant I succumbed to the lure of one of my lifetime passions. After some thirty years I began playing hockey again. Fully 25% of the players were from the medical community – internists, surgeons, and nurses – so I figured if I got into trouble on the ice I was in good company. I skated at least three times a week, and additionally played in one full-fledged, moderate contact game. It sure wasn't the NHL, but with former college players on the team the pace was fast and the shots were hard.

Before the start of the second season, I weighed 225 pounds and felt good. In anticipation of hitting the ice, I had been doing moderate cardiovascular and strength conditioning throughout the year. Except for a lower back problem that had begun to be troublesome, I was rarin' to go. But then, while engaging in my other huge passion, something strange happened to me. I was fly fishing in a small mountain stream, working my way along the shoreline. As I had done since childhood, I progressed by hopping from one boulder to another as I worked the water. I readied myself to leap from the top of one rock to the next, but nothing happened.

My legs wouldn’t work.

Oh, I could walk alright. But when my brain said “Jump legs, jump,” they declined the invitation. Nothing happened. I felt like I was stuck in concrete. I finally gave up, opting instead to simply step down from the rock that I was perched on. When I attempted to do so, my sense of balance made it feel like I was about to plunge down an elevator shaft. I finally sat on my butt and squirmed my way off the rock. It was all of four feet high.

I was mostly irritated and blamed lower back problems for the "inconvenience." Eventually hockey season started. After a couple of weeks I noticed that my legs were feeling sluggish. Whenever a check or a lost edge put me on the ice, I had to struggle to get up. I became embarassingly slow. Once, leaning on the boards before the start of a game, my legs inexplicably came out from under me. My puzzled team mates looked down at me. One said, "What the hell was that all about, John?" Not sure myself, I could only shrug. As it turned out, more than two years would pass before I found the answer that question.

Now I need to step back in order to make this story relevant to Bill’s blog. To this point my medical bills – hospital, ER costs, ambulance costs, cardiologists, ER physicians, rehab, and meds – were well into six figures. Almost all of this was covered by health insurance. I was staggered by the magnitude of the bills, but impressed by how little it cost me out-of-pocket. The tale of the next two years of my life will have to wait for another entry. For now, let’s just say that things went downhill rapidly. My relationship with the medical community intensified. Only this time I began to pay more attention to the processes of the health care system, as well as to the procedures I that I began to endure.

That's when the real fun began.

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To see Bill’s blog on this subject please go to http://blog.williammchone.com/Wm