Incidentally ...

Here's the statement from the insurance company for my surgery. As you can see (click on the photo to see it larger), the hospital was allowed just over $71,000 for "incidentals." If you think that is bad, we saw the documentation on the insurance company's website showing that the hospital actually asked for $153,000 for the "incidentals." The fact that they're getting just under half of what they asked for sounds cheesy on the insurance company's part, and luckily, our insurance company did cover those incidentals, no problem, so we don't have to pay.

Still, I'm curious as to just what exactly those incidentals were. I mean incidentals are defined as things that are minor, casual or subordinate. Subordinate to what? Well, things that are not incidentals, but essentials.

So is this charge for things like those little bottles of Keri lotion or the infernal baby powder they are always pushing on you when you are a patient? Actually I think those things are better categorized under "sundries," but there wasn't a category on the statement for that. Anyway, I didn't use the lotion or baby powder, so maybe the insurance company can get the money back? Not that I'm so keen on helping out the insurance company, but then maybe our premiums would go down, or something like that.

Do the incidentals include the use of hospital gowns? Cause I brought my own, so can that be deducted too? The day I was discharged a volunteer came in and gave me a small plant; what portion of the 71K was that little schefflera?

Just the room and board alone was close to $25,000. I could have rented a room at a nice hotel in Philadelphia with that money. I sure didn't eat many meals (read: ONE that wasn't sippable, and there weren't too many of the sippable kind, come to think of it) so there should be a reduction in the "board" amount, too.

I guess I shouldn't be complaining too much, as I said earlier, our insurance company did pay for most of the bill, but I just wonder what kind of world it is where insurance companies will pay $71,000 for "incidentals" but won't approve more than one level of TDR (total disc replacement) when a doctor deems it necessary. As in essential. As in the opposite of "incidental."

Shout outs!

Now that I'm one month past my surgery, I'd like to give some shout outs to the hospital staff that made impressions on me during my stay.

A big shout out to Angela, the Physical Therapist on my floor. She insisted that I practice getting in and out of a car (they had half a fake one in the rehab room) even though my post-surgery instuctions say "absolutely no automobile travel until your follow up appointment." She also said I had to try steps. Again, the instructions warn against steps.

A shout out to my nurse the first day after my surgery. I still don't know her name (in my mind she is "Dumb Dora"), as she consistently refused to write it on the little whiteboard by my bed for that purpose. She never came to check on me that first morning, as if she had, she would have seen that I was laying (on my side, thankfully!) in my own puke. Instead this was discovered when Dr. Balderston and Theresa came in for rounds first thing. Someone must have gotten reamed a new one from Dr. B. and Theresa because as soon as they left there were about seven people in my room, including the Nurse Manager. Dumb Dora then stuck her face next to my ear and shouted, as though I was a deaf, mentally challenged 4-year-old that didn't speak English, "Do you want something for nausea?" I think I rolled my eyes and said "what do you think?" I had to really bite my tongue, as I'm sure you can imagine what I wanted to say.

A second well-deserved shout out to Dumb Dora, who, when I asked for something for pain after I had been taken off the IV Demerol, refused to read the second page of my chart where the previous nurse, Patrice, had noted that I was getting Darvon, not oral Demerol (which is ineffectual). It wasn't until I picked up the phone and started dialing Theresa that she miraculously summoned the energy to flip the page and find the most recent additions to my chart and get the correct pain meds.

A shout out to the Nurse Assistant (or whatever they are called) who was attending to my roommate the night of my surgery and who double dipped with her bare, ungloved, probably unwashed hand into my cup of ice chips.

A shout out to whoever the nurse was for my roommate who left her stuck on a (full) bed pan for 18 minutes (we timed it).

A shout out to the Physical Therapist who was on duty on Saturday and came right after I went through the horror of having the tube thrust up my nose and down into my stomach and then, ignoring my wishes to not get up right then (the tube was really, really uncomfortable plus I would have had to carry the cannister with the black, red and green slime in it around with us!), asked the nurse if it could be disconnected "for a few minutes" so I could walk around the floor with her and presumably practice getting into a car and going up and down steps.

A shout out to my nurse Barbara, who left the clear plastic container with the black, red and green slime in it hanging on the wall above my bed for three more days.

Yet another shout out to Dumb Dora, for standing over me with her arms folded across her chest not helping or offering any comfort whatsoever while I cried out in pain, unable to move myself from my bed over to the gurney that was waiting to take me to xray the day after surgery. Once I manoevered my way over without her help, she dashed back to her seat at the nurses station stating loudly to the other nurses, "She had her arm in the wrong position." Yes, that was it and it was all my fault, Dora.

And still another shout out to Dumb Dora for, when I asked for something for heartburn (my acid reflux was killing me as I had to lay flat to comfort my back), telling me that laying flat to comfort my back or propping myself up to relieve the heartburn was "a decision I would have to make." Again with her arms folded across her chest, like she was mad at me for having had heartburn.

A shout out to the entire nursing staff who ignored three calls from me for pain medication over a two hour period between a quarter to six and eight fifteen in the morning on Saturday. By the time someone came in (incidentally, NOT a member of the nursing staff, an NP with orthopedics who was doing weekend rounds) and summoned the nurse (and no, it wasn't Dumb Dora), I was in tears and incoherent with anger.

I'm really not a complainer but come on; some of this stuff is just beyond the pale. I do have some positive shout outs, unfortunately not very many. I'm researching an essay on the health careless situation in nursing, and wanted to get these out there first. Stay tuned for my take on the "nursing crisis."