Our Health Care System is Heinous, Part I

Let me start off by admitting to something that makes me feel “less than” on a fairly regular basis. I don't really understand when healthcare is one word or two (health care). Is it healthcare provider? And health care system? Is it always two words and I'm just being crazy by thinking that sometimes you're supposed to combine it into one word? I have to write about "healthcare/health care" about 643 times per day, so the fact that I go through this brain pretzel every time is embarrassing. Whatever, I've fessed up. I'm going to break it up into two words for now because that pleases the eye, and now that I’ve told you about this out loud on paper, I realize that it isn’t ever really one word.

It doesn't matter how you spell it, it's still freaking heinous. I spend most of my awake-time trying to address some of the reasons it blows to have a human body in the United States of America —mainly why it blows to be a female-bodied person of reproductive age. That’s an offensive term, I know, but “childbearing years” isn’t any better. Now I know that many of these complaints are relative—in comparison to other places we have it way good, and I am thankful that I enjoy much of the bounty. But the fact that we're so rich and yet treat people so poorly is too depressing. Over the past few months there have been three things in particular that made me want to gauge my eyes out, but one of the things has to do with my eyes, so I definitely couldn't inflict any more harm to my eyes out of mere frustration.

As a matter of extreme disclaimer: I am a particularly lucky U.S. citizen because I have health insurance that I don't have to pay for at all—it's provided to me by my full-time employer without any match from me, their employee. Amazing and lucky. I happen to be someone whose work aspirations include full-time office work—people who are part-time workers and free lancers are in a much trickier situation. Just a tiny part of why health care is heinous. I am lucky and the following story didn't completely screw up my life, but it made me extremely angry. Here we go:
My health insurance doesn't include vision. There is a flex spending program that I could join so that I could use pre-tax dollars to pay for my glasses and contacts, but I decided to use the small portion of money from my paycheck that doesn't go to rent and food and put it in the retirement plan instead. Don't get me started on how people who are just getting started are supposed to get anything started nowadays. There are plenty of studious and attractive women in their 20s writing books about this. And I’m not a joiner.

Last month I noticed a strange bump on the inside of my eyelid. So I stopped wearing contacts and started to try to conquer it with hot compresses; I'm a big believer in hot compresses. But really, thanks to my friend, Friend, for looking on the internet and reaffirming my belief in hot compresses—I was sort of planning on ignoring the bump and hoping that it would go away. This summer I already spent close to $300 on my eyes—they're worse than they were before, and I had to get contacts as well as stronger lenses for my glasses. I decided to go to the doctor for my eyelid because the hot compresses weren't doing the trick; plus, 20 minute scalding compresses 4 times/day doesn't really work when you're at a desk in an office at least 25 paces away from the sinks—by the time I got back to my seat the compress was a pathetic lukewarm. So I went to the doctor, who was fabulous—she was one of the best doctors I've seen in a long time, and I'm hypercritical of the whole heinous system, including providers. During this first visit she confirmed that it was kind of gross and potentially problematic; that delightful diagnosis cost $30. She commended me for the compresses—gave me a cool trick to help with the diminishing scalding-ness that kept happening. She also told me that I should start getting used to washing my eyelashes with baby shampoo every night. I winced. She laughed and also wrote me a prescription for some drops to make the bump “go down.” Then I had to go get steroidal eye drops for my eye which none of the local pharmacies had in stock. I live in New York City, where there is a pharmacy to accompany the Starbucks on every other corner, alternating between the east and west side of the street. Had to wait a few days for the drops--bump is getting larger. Went to pick up the drops—they cost $75. So now I've spent $105 on my eyelid bump already, and with all this work (compresses AND baby shampoo directly on my eyelid) and cash, I still might have to get a procedure to remove it. The doctor kept saying that I was so responsible for coming in to see her before the bump got enormous, that many people wait until it obstructs their vision/starts to scare people on the street. But the way our heinous health care system is set up, people have to drop $105 for "responsible" care—and this is for people who have insurance. I also have a credit card, which I had to use for some of those copays. No wonder people wait until their health is a total no-go…there are a lot of people who can't afford to be "responsible." It’s not this exceptional lady-doctor (her sex, not her specialty)’s fault either. I consider it irresponsible government not to provide citizens with the tools necessary to go to the health care provider when they need to and pay for whatever medications that are recommended that they actually want to take.

Stay tuned for Health Care is Heinous, Part II where Anemone goes back to the doctor and the bump is not getting any better.