Wednesday, February 8

Got to have a conversation that still feels absurd, yet was somewhat serious at the very least.

My Kindle slid between the back and cushions, and then into the fold-out couch/desk/bed thing in my daughter’s hospital room this morning. I tried taking out the built-in drawers, tried reaching my arm between the back and frame, and no success.

I have my micro Leatherman with me, and started with dreams of either disassembling this industrial-IKEA couch thing, or taking a hammer and axe to it. As my visions of missing-Kindle-fueled destruction grew, I turned to my daughter and said:

“I wonder how much they’d charge your insurance for this couch, and how you’d explain that to your insurance company.”

Now, I wonder what would cost more – the couch thing that’s served as my bed for the last three weeks, or one dose of chemotherapy, one bone marrow biopsy.

The burning truth of this ordeal is that our healthcare system could work, really well, if we just figured out how to actually pay for it as a society. Otherwise, it’s a gut-wrenching joke of exploitation, where patients and families are bankrupted for life-saving care.

#OnlyInAmerica