Unless one is desperately ill - or already dead - healthcare reform is no longer up there in the spotlight on the highwire, working without a net. And without Ted Kennedy. Advocacy groups are still advocating and the insurance industry continues to jack up rates while actual medical care - when and where one can find it - seems to be in a state of advanced decay. I know. I have been to 'The Mountain', 'Pill Hill, OHSU orr as I and my family refer to it, 'OHFU'. I had a massive operation the other day. This was NOT a wart amputation, sliver removal or paper cut bleeder. And my doctor assured me that post-op, I would be able to play polo again. this was a planned event as contasted to the spontaneous manner in which I arrived at the OR last time around. After being misdirected three different ways (One of which supplied by the official hospital direction for the patient supplied on paper and via e-mail two weeks in advance.) my adventure in modern medicine began. Max, Ian and I found ourselves shunted (No pun there, I assure you...) to a hot, crowded room presided over by a harried receptionistwho was picking her way through 'Hospital Computers for Dummies' and hadn't got past the "To my Mum and my wife who stood by me while I wrote this book" part. The fluorescent accoustical tile beat down on us, unseen machinery throbbed and hummed. People came and went. Mostly they came. It was standing room only within minutes of our arrival. My fellow patients were a motley lot: grotesquely overweight for the most part, dressed in sweat pants (And I do mean sweat...), ragged, food-stained t-shirts celebrating Memorable Moments in Deathmetal, flip-flops caked with what appeared to be very large rat or very small dog excrement. In deference to these people, the former could be accounted for by OHFU's cutbacks in staff. Thing about cleaning, out-sourcing it to Juarez is not the same as out-sourcing the manufacture of oh, say, beverage containers. Did I mention the smell? Smells? Wild, scary, overpowering, visceral, chemical, penetrating:
Someone came around and asked us all if we had Swine Flu. We said, No, we didnt. The person gave us each a sticker. Most people looked at the small paper circle and dropped it on the floor. My sons and I dutifully afixed ours to articles of clothing. I watched an obese toddler eat its sticker.
But I'll just cut to the chase at this point: Moments before I was wheeled in to face grim time beneath the high-priced knife, the anesthesiologist stopped by for a reassuring word. A question, actually. He wanted to know if I preferred to be awake or asleep during the procedure that lay ahead. Yes. It's true. You really do have a choice. I chose the hand of Morpheus to hold as I went to Hell. Reviewing my bill weeks later, I learned that it costs more to be knocked out. But then doesn't it always?
- KBOO