This post could be about the constant low-grade fear I experience on a daily basis. The kind of fear that manifests itself in nightmares about realistic things, many of which involve someone betraying me and/or hurting me. I had a couple of those last night, a couple more the night before. Perhaps I subconsciously tend to get too little sleep in order to avoid those dreams. Perhaps I should continue that practice…
But, no. This post is about my fear of looming medical bills. Most of you missed the picture I posted on Twitter of my ER bill from a few weekends back. Here it is. That’s four THOUSAND dollars, people. And that is only one of THREE visits I paid to medical professionals in a three-day period. When I look back, I think I must’ve been an utter fool to go to that many doctors and not think for a second about the repercussions. But, in essence, isn’t that what it’s supposed to be like to have insurance? Shouldn’t I feel safe to seek care without then suffering under the weight of the expense? It just isn’t so.
I’ve received several EOBs in my e-mail inbox the past week or so, but haven’t found any real answers therein about how much money will be leaving my bank account in the near future. I know I can afford it, but it’s still not going to be easy. I suppose it’s smart that I decided not to move out just now, as I may still have a couple thousand dollars of medical bills heading my way. It makes me a little ill just thinking about it.
Time to go back to sipping my cinnamon mocha (free office coffee + free cinnamon hot chocolate mix I found in the break room + one packet of Splenda) and get started on my work for the day. Peace be with you (more than I have, at any rate).