If We Eliminate All the Bullshit, America Does Not Have a Healthcare System
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There are two sides to the story about the murder of an
insurance company executive. I am not condoning violence. In fact, it would be
fair to label me a ‘pacifist.’ However, most Americans find themselves
in a battle with an insurance company when a healthcare emergency becomes a
reality.
I am 78 years old. During a discussion at a party in my
20’s, I proclaimed that if I were to commit a crime, it would be against an
insurance company. They charge outrageous premiums and when a situation arises
and they are required to pay for a claim, they fight to deny that claim. They
are the most corrupt businesses in America.
Millions of Americans continue to survive without any
healthcare insurance today. They simply cannot afford it.
America’s current “healthcare system” is primarily dependent
upon the profits of one industry: the insurance companies. The reason
healthcare in our country is the most expensive in the world, and the primary
reason for that situation is the greed of the entire healthcare industry.
Insurance companies, “for profit” hospitals, physicians, outpatient facilities,
and other businesses associated with healthcare experience profits in the
billions.
By 2027, the profits of the entire industry are forecast to
exceed 819 billion dollars. With Republicans in control of our government, I
believe that number will exceed One-Trillion Dollars.
My recent experience with the industry proves how corrupt
the system is: how profits before people is our nation’s motto: the only reason
it exists.
I was transported to the hospital during the waning hours of
a Friday evening. I learned later that this professional “Uber” would cost me
$1,700 for an eight-mile trip. I received no care or conversation during the
ride, so why was the charge so ridiculously high?
I’m not sure how long I was in the emergency room: I’m
guessing about two hours. I was eventually admitted sometime after midnight.
Then I was taken back downstairs for a CT scan. I had a fall before my wife
called 911.
The room I was assigned to was in the far back corner of the
third floor. It didn’t appear to me that it was frequently used for patients.
I won’t bore you with all the details, but I can sum up my
experience in just a few paragraphs.
I was forced to remain in bed. The only time anyone came to
my room was for blood tests and to check my ‘vitals.’ I had to ring for a bed
pan, and often had to wait for 30 minutes or longer. The food was inedible,
which will surprise no one. I lived on the Gatorade my wife brought me.
On Saturday morning I was visited by a doctor. She told me
that I had E-Coli bacteria in my bloodstream. I would be treated with very
strong antibiotics intravenously, and discharged in a couple of days if all
went well. I would be sent home with pills to take for five more days. This
didn’t prevent the hospital from performing three other very expensive tests on
me. In my head I could see the bill growing rapidly.
Other than when I needed a bed pan, not once was I asked if
I needed a glass of water or anything else.
On Monday, about 9 a.m., I was told that I was being
discharged. However, no one came to take me downstairs until after noon.
Now for the bill. If I would have been required to pay the
total amount, the charges added up to more than $26,000. Although my actual
residence in the hospital was two days and a few hours on Monday, I was charged
for four full days. Other items on the bill included physical therapy, and
visits by multiple doctors. None of this was legitimate.
Other than the hospital bill, I received bills for
radiology, and emergency room services. If the outpatient care was included,
the total bill would have been well over $30,000. I refer to my experience as “four
days in hell.”
“Fortunately,” my wife and I are poor. We qualified for a
program which helped reduce our costs. Combined with Medicare part “A,” we are
paying far less than the charges listed on the bills.
The nurses treated me with care when I was attended to.
However, I began to understand: I was basically a “charity patient.” If I would
have been wealthy, someone would have checked on me frequently. Instead, I was
isolated and always very uncomfortable.
I will never go to a hospital again. I plan to die at home.
Op-ed by James Turnage
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