This week I have been reminded what a foreigner I am in this land. We switched medical insurance on February 1. And February 1, our daughter, was taken via ambulance to the hospital. After 3 years seizure free she no loner was….
The questions/statements/things I saw that remind me I am not from this land:
9 firefighters in my front room (9? 9? really?!)
A fire engine and ambulance on my drive (why?!?!)
‘Which hospital would you like to go to?’ (the only one in town!!!)
‘Do you have your insurance card and ID?’ (seriously?!)
‘Where would you like us to send the bill?’ (OHMYGOSH!)
‘Don’t worry about not having your insurance card yet. It happens all the time.’ (Are you serious?)
‘You will just need to take this home and fill it in and fax it back to us when you get your card.’ (So I am now doing your job? BTW did you know my daughter had a seizure tonight?!)
Having to call the insurance company to figure out if the hospital we are at is ‘in network’ (how about we all play nice?!)
‘You would like your daughter sedated for the MRI?’ (since when was I a Dr?!)
The fact that I am worried about how much all this will cost. (When was ‘living’ only for the rich?!)
The fact that I walked away from a $250 prescription that Abigail needs to check if the one I had was outdated! (There is something wring with this picture!)
That I had to pay $500 for TWO prescriptions. (*passes out*)
That monthly meds will now be in excess of $150 (no such thing as a poor pharmaceutical company I guess!!)
I can’t help but wonder in all this when simply living became a rich mans game?! Yes, this week I have felt more like a foreigner then I have in years.