Thursday, January 17, 2008

Surgery Jitters

I am going for surgery tomorrow morning at 7:30 a.m., for the knee I tore a few weeks ago, and so not looking forward to it.
I am having the procedure done at ARMC and I am so uneasy about the whole thing. I was ok going to ARMC, even though Hendrick is my hospital of choice, until I went to pre-op yesterday.
As I was being registered by woman named Cora (who by the way will never win any awards for compassion or diplomacy), that informed me 1) having to register me was cutting into her lunch time, 2) my orders hadn't arrived from the doctor and it was making her behind schedule, 3) it shouldn't be her job to have to track down the doctor's orders and 4) by the way I hadn't met all of my deductible so my part of the bill would be approximately $1,918.14. She then demanded payment - cash, check or credit card.
I asked don't they bill when they have the final amount, to which I received a blank stare. I then told her that I would have to ask my husband (who was out of town at the time) how we were going to pay. I explained to her Doug is the one that takes care of all of our finances. Cora announced "I've heard that story before!" I told her that I was glad that she had heard that story especially since it was scriptural. Cora then informed me that I would have to pay something up front or they would not be doing the surgery period, and if I needed to make arrangement to pay this out then I would need to talk to "Steve"! As I walked out of her office I just kept stareing at her in total unbelief.
Uneasiness offically set in at that moment.I have always gone to Hendrick in the past and they have always treated me with so much respect, so I was totally taken aback by this kind of treatment from a private hospital that is suppose to be so good. I expected so much better. Please don't take this wrong, but it's not like I am an uninsured homeless person looking for free medical service (I have nothing against homeless people). I have excellent insurance with BCBS and the upfront money isn't a problem, but this woman, who didn't know me from a hill of beans, treated me like I was the filth of the earth. By the end of the day I couldn't stop dwelling about it and then the tears started.
After thinking about this all day I finally realize that my unease comes from the thought that if something goes wrong will I be treated the same way by those who are suppose to be caring for me as Cora treated me in admitting? Now how crazy is that?

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