The High Cost of Healthcare

I'd been laying on the couch with my foot elevated, wrapped and iced (on and off) for the past 7 hours when I heard Holly knocking on the front door.  "Got it," hollered Jameson.  Right. Thanks for clearing that up. I was totally going to jump up and run to the door.

I scooted up on the couch so I was sort of leaning against the arm and pulled the pillows closer so I could keep my foot up.  This morning at 1:30 when Jameson had come to bed after studying I'd gotten up to pee. On my way back to bed I'd wiped out bruising both my knees, my head, my elbows, my right foot and severely sprained my left.  At least I hoped it was a sprain. I hadn't let Jameson touch it enough to be sure. 

Mental Checklist:  opportunity is knocking. Your ass is big and you pee every night from too much chardonnay. Take the hint.

Holly and Jameson made their way into the room and Holly dropped  her bag on the kitchen island while giving me the once over.  "How do you feel?" she asked.  "You don't look that bad."

"Holl, your bedside is bullshit. I can read right through it. I haven't slept and I can't move  my toes."  Holly raised her eyebrows in response.

"I told you she was pissy," Ja nodded at Holly.

"Alright, what do we know?" Holly asked while she and Jameson both shuffled to stand over my foot. I felt like a zoo animal.

"Did a cursory exam at the time of the accident. Patient says foot hurts 'everywhere', difficult to determine exact location of injury. Based on that exam and what patient describes as areas of pain, I'd get an x-ray to determine breaks. I didn't feel any significant or obvious breaks at the time of the exam. But then, it's hard to be thorough when the patient slaps you in the face and vomits at your feet," Jameson finished and then laughed.

"Hey! It HURT! I can't help if I puked. I did warn you. And my name is Kelly, not 'patient'."

"OK, let's unwrap it and take a look" Holly said and began unwrapping my foot. At this point I was feeling more embarrassment than pain.  I needed a pedicure and to shave my legs. I apologized to Holly who assured me I was far better than 90% of the patients she and Jameson would come into contact with.

"Wife, we're going to have to touch your foot to determine if there are breaks. What do you need?"

Shit. I needed a solid week of drinking vodka to prepare myself for what I knew was going to be worse than labor.  "Just tell me when and where you're going to touch my foot. Oh, and can you grab the trashcan in case  I need to throw up again?"

Jameson pulled the trashcan from under the kitchen sink and sat it next to me. He and Holly exchanged looks and she said, "Can you point to where it hurts the most?"

I did some more adjusting on the couch and leaned forward to lightly touch just below my fourth toe and down to almost the middle of my foot. Damn. If it hurt to hover on it like that, I couldn't imagine what it would feel like when they were done. "And, it hurts in that same spot on the bottom," I sighed and then leaned back on the arm of the couch.

Jameson began, "It's localized. That's good. Last night you said the side of your foot hurt to the touch which is the sign of a break."

"If you didn't feel any obvious breaks last night, it's probably a severe sprain. We won't know how bad without a CT or MRI - which you're not getting on this floating trash heap," Holly replied then turned to me.  "OK, Jameson is going to pick up your foot with both of his hands and gently squeeze all three regions to determine if anything is really broken.  He'll start with your heel.  You ready?"

What I was ready for was a Catherine Tate marathon and some Krispy Kreme doughnuts, but that wasn't happening anytime soon.  I grabbed one of the pillows behind my back, bit down and nodded my head.

As soon as Jameson lifted my foot, the tears started. He prodded and kneaded and then put my foot back down on the pillows. What was probably a 60-second exam felt like 60 minutes.  I took the pillow out of my mouth and gulped in oxygen. I was still crying, but there was no puking.  Winning.

"Wife, I don't think it's broken. I do think it's a severe sprain judging by swelling in the mid foot and the areas of pain. You need to keep the foot elevated, wrapped and iced on and off for the next 3 days.  You should keep it wrapped for a solid week.  No shoes. No walking, which shouldn't be an issue since you can't put weight on it, and try to stay on the couch for the next week so it has time  to rest."

Holly agreed with Ja's diagnosis and they both set off to find me some crutches, an ice pack (my Ziploc of ice cubes was getting annoying) and a proper wrap.  I realized that the cost of this medical advice was about 150 grand since both Holly and Ja had  taken out loans. One. Hundred. Fifty. Thousand. Dollars.  My mouth started to water, my back ached and I promptly turned to hurl in the trashcan.