The Cost Of Healthcare In The United States

After returning home from my first hospital stay, I was greeted with a couple of medical bills. I figured they were just statements of what my insurance had paid for my 3-week stay so I put them aside for a bit (read: a week or so).

When I finally opened them I saw that they were bills for me from miscellaneous procedures I had had while in the hospital and they totaled around $3700. (Actually, one of the bills was from the ambulance service that transported me from the UCLA Emergency Room to the UCLA Santa Monica Hospital and was almost $800! EIGHT.HUNDRED.DOLLARS for FIVE.POINT.THREE MILES! I am seriously in the wrong business! Yes I know, tough job, skilled labor, yada yada yada.)

So when I saw the bills totaling $3700 (the ambulance bill was sent to my insurance never to be seen again), I freaked out wondering 1) how in the world I was going to pay that and 2) if I was going to get a bill for the same amount after each hospital stay.

So I did what any adult in my situation would do: I put them in my bill drawer and forgot about them.

Until today when I got a reminder for the $3700. At this point I realized they weren’t going to disappear into thin air and that I probably needed to do something about them.

So I called my insurance company to ask about them and find out why they hadn’t paid them. Thankfully, they ended up being bills that were never sent to my insurance! (And believe it or not, it only took one short, painless phone call to my medical group to have that rectified! You could have knocked me over with a feather! I was totally expecting to be bounced around from customer service rep to customer service rep, but instead the one customer service rep I spoke to told me it was their error and that she would bill my insurance and I wouldn’t be getting another bill.)

While I was on the phone with my insurance company comparing charges, the agent (who was also very helpful and friendly!) told me they had received two bills for my 3-week hospital stay, one for services and one for facilities.

So let’s have a little fun. Leave your guess for the total of these two amounts (services + facilities = your guess ) in the comments. The person who comes the closest without going over will win a little goodie.

Because I’m going back into the hospital on Monday afternoon, I’d like to get the prize sent out by Monday morning, so I’m going to end the contest on Saturday morning at 9am.

Now remember, health care in the US isn’t cheap… Not by any stretch of the imagination…

Magic Numbers

Yesterday my nurse handed me the printout of my labs before I’d even had a chance to get the sleep out of my eyes.

From the get-go my doctors told me they needed to see 500 neutrophils in my blood, which would happen when my white blood count was around 1.0-1.5.

I went to bed having last read that my WBC was .14, so I didn’t have much hope for a 10-fold increase.  But hope springs eternal.  So I walked in the figure-8 path around the oncology ward for an hour because my doctor told me it would magically help me to increase my numbers.

So after fumbling for my glasses, I looked to see that the WBC on this printout 3.31.

Clearly they’d printed the wrong patient’s numbers and given them to me.  There was obviously a major violation of HIPPA that had been violated!

But I looked at the name…  and it was mine!

Somehow, miraculously, due to the hour walk, or the visualizing of white blood cells I did at the recommendation of one of my nurses, my WBC had shot up from .14 to 3.31!

And within 3 hours, I was set free from Hotel Santa Monica Santa Monica UCLA Hospital with a functioning immune system and more bags than I had initially brought with me.  I was so excited I even walked down to the corner instead of waiting for Joansy (I don’t think I mentioned that Joansy is here, but she’s here for the next two weeks to help out) to pick me up.

I do apologize for not having posted the good news before that, but honestly, I was so happy to be home that it was the last thing on my mind.

Now it’s time to go get my son up from his nap!  Yeah!

I HAVE PUS!

(The following post will not be for the faint of heart, or my friend Barb who cannot see, speak of, or otherwise think about mucousy bodily fluids without producing some bodily fluids of her own.  And I promise, no photos or descriptions.  But be forewarned, I use the word ‘pus’ several time, and exuberantly, I might add! )

My doctor came in to see me today as she does most days (don’t get me started) and at some point in the conversation I commented on how sore my mouth and throat were (which they’ve been since last week Sunday). She asked to look into my mouth (which she has done on a couple of occasions) and said, “I think you have Strep throat, you have pus bags on your tonsils.”

I HAVE PUS!

:::Doing the happy dance:::

I HAVE PUS!

Now after you get your head out of your garbage can, I know you’ll share the joy in me having pus because in order to have pus,

YOU HAVE TO HAVE WHITE BLOOD CELLS!

The nurse was just in and did a swab and said, “Oh yah, there’s pus” and in the simple act of gargling Hurricane Spray (a 20% benzocaine oral anesthetic that is a gift from the Gods!) I indeed saw some pus go down the sink.

Of course we don’t know what level my white blood cells are at, but they must be climbing. And we don’t know if I do indeed have Strep Throat, but it appears to be so. Both are currently being confirmed with lab work.

But I HAVE PUS! so that must account for something!

(I promise never to be this happy about pus again. But at this point, it’s the small things!)

How Low Can You Go?

Remember when they used to play that song during The Limbo at the rollerskating rink? “How low can you go, Limbo know how” I was a big ox on roller skates and couldn’t go that low. But I still tried…

Sorry for the lack of posts, this last week has been, well, one of those weeks.

I got out of the hospital late last Tuesday (7/15).

Wednesday I spent at home laying low with my Mom and Oliver (I think, I have a notoriously bad memory to begin with and chemo hasn’t improved it!).

On Thursday I had to go to UCLA for my intrathecal (spinal) injection of chemo. That was not a fun experience as the doctor couldn’t find fluid until after the third puncture in my spine. Then the rest of the day was spent on the front porch in a horizontal position. Well, at least until dinner time when Louise and Troy invited us over for dinner with other of our friends. That was a good time and was mostly for my mom who was leaving the next day.

Friday was another trip to UCLA for another intrathecal injection. This one went much more smoothly and marked the conclusion (as far as me getting chemicals, but not as far as calendar days) of my second round of chemo and also the halfway point of my treatment (the actual date will be July 31, but I won’t have any more chemo between now and then, if that makes sense).

Unfortunately Friday was also the day my Mom had to return home (I mean, come on, she’d spent 3 weeks with us, she had to go back home at some point). The plan was to take her to the beach in the early afternoon after I had rested sufficiently from the intrathecal injection that morning. (She had gone the week prior and FINALLY got to see dolphins frolicking in the ocean. You should have seen the look on her face and the smile in her voice. It was like a kid in a candy store!)

But those plans got modified (several times!) because My Partner, who was picking up guests from France, ended up having car problems and all of them were stranded on the side of the road for a couple of hours on the way back from the airport.

Luckily, my mom is very low maintenance and didn’t mind changing her plans, even though it meant not going to the beach. So instead, we went to Pink’s for dinner.

Yes, I know it’s a glorified hot dog stand, but I told you, she’s low maintenance!

After that we took her to the airport for her red-eye flight.

Then Sunday was our dear friend’s, Marguerite’s, birthday, so we went to her house to celebrate. Unfortunately most of Saturday and Sunday (and on into Monday and Tuesday), I was feeling the side effects of the three intrathecal injections I’d received the week prior (one before being discharged from the hospital), and was feeling very weak and nauseous. At some point I must have done something I wasn’t supposed to do (use someone else’s utensil, gotten too close to someone (um, hello, can you say French greeting, kiss-kiss?!), but I think I caught a little something from someone there as my throat started hurting badly that night.

On Monday I went in for a transfusion and ended up finding out how low my blood levels all were.

My white blood count, which should be between 3.28 and 9.29 for men, was at .1, and basically meant I had no immune system to speak of.

My hemoglobin, the energy provider in the blood, which is supposed to be between 12.3 and 16.3
for men, was at 6.8 and explained my total and utter lack of energy.

Finally, my platelets, the part of the blood that forms blood clots so we don’t bleed to death, was at 14 and should be between 143-398 for men.

So on Monday I ended up getting two bags of blood and two bags of platelets.

Unfortunately, my numbers were so low that the transfusion didn’t end up doing much to help me feel better, although it certainly got me on the right track. And I still had a killer sore throat.

As my luck would have it, Monday night I woke up at 3am with a slight fever (99.something). So I took some Tylenol and went back to bed. When I woke in the morning, it was up to 100.3ish. So I called my doctor and she told me if it got up to between 101.5 and 102.0 that I should go to the ER.

And wouldn’t you know it, after I woke from a 2-hour nap, my fever was up to 101.9. I called my doctor and she told me to go to the ER and advised me I would likely be admitted.

I asked her if she wasn’t overreacting. (Cuz I’m sure she has a problem with overreacting as a doctor. HELLO!). And she told me again I needed to go.

So here I am, Santa Monica UCLA Hospital on the Oncology floor. They keep telling me I’m neutropenic (think of all the words I’ve learned on this, um, journey!) and that I will be in the hospital until my white blood cells improve. Unfortunately that doesn’t seem like it’s going to happen quickly as it is currently at .11 as of 3am this morning.

And even after the transfusion on Monday and the two bags of platelets they gave me last night in ER, my hemoglobin is still at a low 7.1 and my platelets at an even lower 36.

So expect more frequently updates since I have nothing but time the next three days!

Hope?

Is there hope afterall?

I better not jinx it…

Frank’s Army

On June 29 I posted about the efforts of my friends who are/were doing the Relay For Life (Jenna did it in Milwaukee and Adele will be doing it in Windsor, CO).

My friend Adele has coined the term Frank’s Army” for all those who support her efforts for RFL (and generally for anyone who supports me as I go through chemo).

I knew Adele was competitive as I’m a competitive person as well, but I have to tell ya, she makes me look like a light weight. She has taken being General of Frank’s Army very seriously as up to now has raised OVER $1400!! Here is what Adele said about it on one of our favorite web forums, The Baker’s Bar (I’ve made some minor changes to make it flow, as marked by parentheses, but the meaning has not been changed):

As it stands right now, there are over $1300 in donations to Relay for Life- most of those from here at (The Baker’s Bar) in support of Frank!!

Because this is all about raising money, and I’m competitive (emphasis my own ), here are the current standings. Our team is 2nd overall in team funds raised. I am 3rd overall in personal funds raised- I’m only behind the 2nd person by $200!!!!!

Now, just to show you how impressive that is, let me tell you a little about the first place team and fund raiser. She is a local vet who has ALL sorts of national honors and awards. She is known throughout the US for her research and treatment on CANCER in animals. She sends her donation letter out to her ENTIRE client and Christmas list, not to mention all the people who come into her vet clinic and donate there. So being 2nd to her team in the team rankings and being 3rd to (this doctor) (the second and 4th place individual top fundraisers are ALSO (on this doctor’s team) team) is an AMAZING feat if I do say so. And really, it’s been pretty effortless on my part- it’s all because of YOU guys and your support of FRANK!!

So I just finished being all crafty today- I put the finishing touches on 4 gift baskets that will be up for bid in the silent auction at the RFL. Then I got to work on the Luminary Bags. Well, I’m short one bag, so I made mine on paper and will tape it to the bag at the relay. You can’t tell in the photo. but they ALL are blinged out- they have beads and sparkly things all over them- the glue gun was my friend today
I will of course take a picture of the bags set and lit up at the relay too, but wanted you to check them out in the light first. (Please note: it is too late to support Adele by purchasing luminary bags.)

Thanks once again for all of your support. You all are simply amazing!!

The following my response to Adele’s news:

To Frank’s Army, and it’s General, Adele,

Words become meaningless when I try to find the right ones to express my gratitude for your financial contributions, but also for the cards and emails you’ve sent to me and my family.

As you can imagine, this is one of the most harrowing and trying experiences I’ve gone through. Unlike other obstacles I’ve had in my life, I don’t have the option of giving up. I have a nearly-8-month old, a nearly 50-year-old, and scads of others who are counting on me to get through this.

Knowing this doesn’t make what I’m going through any easier, by any stretch. There are many days I just want to give up and say I’ve had enough. But knowing that there are so many people, including My Guys and My Army out there gives me hope that I can make it through to the other side of this. It gives me hope that someday someone else can be spared from this awful, awful experience. But mostly, it gives me hope for tomorrow and our world. If a group of neighbors can come together in urban Los Angeles to care for another neighbor; if a group of online message board members can band together to raise an incredible amount of money for cancer research, and if a little girl can give up her allowance to help someone she doesn’t know with a disease she likely doesn’t yet understand (see my see Nicole’s comment), then my hope for my community and my world has been reignited and it’s worth it for me to continue to struggle knowing that my son (and future daughter) will grow up in a world that still comprehends and demonstrates it’s humanity.

So again, these words sound so insincere and trivial compared to the kindness and generosity you have all shown, but Thank You. Thank you from me as someone fighting cancer, but also thank you from a father. You will all never likely understand exactly how much you have impacted me by all of this. But thank you.

xo
Frank

I was going to say, I invite you all to join Frank’s Army. But by reading, comments, sending me emails, you’ve already done that.

So instead I’ll say, please help Adele in her quest (remember the aforementioned competitiveness ) to raise the most she can for cancer research. You can do that by following this link. (I also have thrown an incentive in there: anyone who donates $25 or more will be entered into a drawing for an item handmade by me.)

Thank you!

Going Home

To my baby!

And Gramma and Papa too!

Laying On Hands

Checking yourself into a hospital is a surreal experience. For me, the process entails calling the Oncology Nurse’s Station bright and early to find out what time they want you to check in, then preparing myself (mentally and physically) for the stay, getting to the hospital, and finding the Admissions Office, explaining why you’re there, filling out paperwork, waiting for the Transporter to take you to your room, undressing and getting into the gown and bed, and finally waiting for the action to begin.

It seemed so much easier the first time when they just wheeled me into my room.

The first time I checked into the hospital was an especially difficult one. Although it was only for three days, I was still away from The Loves Of My Life and I wasn’t happy about it. I tried to be strong and held up the facade long enough for My Partner to leave. Then I started to feel kinda crappy.

Then Orfilia, a short, Latina woman walked in wearing a Cheshire cat grin, “Welcome to Santa Monica Hospital Oncology Ward.”

TOTALLY let the waterworks loose for me!  And without skipping a beat, she saw the photo of Oliver beside my bed and said, “Is that your son?”

“Uh-hhhhuhhh…”

Oh she continued, “Don’t give up dreaming!  I want you to see yourself taking your son to his first day of Kindergarten.  I want you to imagine him in high school and I want you see him going off to college.”

And she takes my hand.

“I want you to keep dreaming and living because it’s no cancer that kills people, it’s when people stop dreaming and living.”

Then one of the most awkward moments I have encountered in a while (which is no small feat given my penchant for creating or otherwise discovering awkward moments!), she asked, “Can I pray for you?”

I wasn’t sure what to say, so I said what I felt was right, “Sure.  But as long as you know I don’t believe in your God.”

She retorted, “You don’t have to believe!  I believe!  And that’s all that matters!”

At which point she laid her hands on my heart and began into her prayer, “Ay Dios, todopoderoso…” much of which I understood, the rest of which I got the gist from my religious upbringing.

When she was done, she opened her eyes and regained her super-contagious smile and asked if I felt better.

Not one for letting someone down, I said I did, maybe, a little.  (And I did, maybe, a little.).

Then later that day, when she saw me she said, “Look at you, you are a different person!”

I stopped to reflect a moment and indeed I did feel a bit more positive.

She said, “See, that’s God!”

To me, it was Orfilia who had caused that change.  Because although we didn’t share the same faith, and barely spoke a common language, she shared a life lesson with me, a smile with me, and taken a moment to share her beliefs and a little bit of time with me.

Happy Birthday To My Dear Friend

I’m not sure if I’ve every told the story about my dear friend Joansy.

About 6 years ago or so, I “bumped” into a woman on a quilting forum and almost immediately hit it off. My memory of that was of us meeting in the chat room and me calling her every name I could think of that started with J (I think because at first I really couldn’t remember her name?) and her doing the same with me with names that started with F.

Eventually we migrated to a chat program and over the years, almost every chat program imaginable trying to find the right features. Sometimes we just type. Other times we use voice and video.

At some point we even talked on the phone, both of our voices shaky.

Then of course last year, there was my visit to Canada to meet her in real life and spend time with her family and her. They all welcomed me with open arms and after the first few awkward minutes, it was just like we were long lost friends.

Over the last few years, Joan has been one of the most kind, caring, and generous friends I’ve ever had.  We share a lot of the same ideas (and many that are different!) and of course many of the same hobbies.

Every birthday, Christmas, and sometimes “just because” I’ll get an amazing package filled with thoughtful gifts, many times with something handmade by my dear friend. My house is filled with her many hours of creativity and skill:

• Every breakfast we eat upon the latte bowl placemats,
• Every Christmas I put out the snowmen table runner,
• Every time I reach for a pot holder, I grab for one of the two sets of mitts she’s made me (while wearing one of the many of her aprons!),
• There are monogrammed towels and sewing aids,
• and of course the beautiful, beautiful quilts!

The pinnacle of her generosity is when she gave up 2 weeks of her life to come and spend with My Partner and I to help care for our new baby!

And she’s doing it again in a couple of weeks to help me out while I go through chemo.

To say that Joan is a rare friend is an understatement.  Barely a day goes by that we don’t chat either online or via my iPhone.  Actually, a day doesn’t feel complete unless I at least say, ‘hello’ to her!

So Happy Birthday My Dear Friend! I love you Joansy!

xo
Frank

Round 2, Day 2

A shot from my life at preset and a perfect pictorial representation of my motto, “You have to go through it to get past it.”