You Don’t Scare Me

My medical bill post gave some of you a little sticker shock.  Sure, I don’t have the money to pay a bill like that, but I’ve gotten enough of these things by now that it really doesn’t even phase me.  Really, what are they going to do?  Take their radiation back?  Or put my old boob back on?  Not that I’m a deadbeat about it or anything, but you know, there’s only so much cash to go around up in here.  Get in line, hospital.  Right behind the surgeon’s office, and the oncologist, and the lab, and the mammogram people, and the pathologist, and the foob store, and…. 

Besides, when you’ve faced down cancer, is anything else really scary anymore?   It’s kind of like, once you’ve given birth nothing else is really painful by comparison.   The first surgery I had was scary because I’d never had one before.  But was it the most painful thing I’ve ever done?  HECK no.  Not even close.  I’ve given birth—to a 9 lb baby—there IS no worse pain.  And, surgery isn’t even scary anymore because I’ve done it four stinkin’ times in the last year.  At this point I’m totally over it.  My biggest concern is whether or not it’ll keep me from going roller skating on the 2nd Friday of the month.

So, sorry, hospital, you’re just going to have to wait your turn.


Remember my post a couple of days ago about search engine terms people have used to find this blog?  I’ve got another one for you: “pink tourniquets”.  Gee, I didn’t know they came in colors.  All the ones I’ve ever had wrapped around my arm (at the same time, even) have been that generic rubber glove color.  Maybe my insurance will only pay for the generic, as opposed to the name brand tourniquet.  No fancy DKNY or Prada tourniquet for me.  Nope.  I get the Faded Glory tourniquet.

But I guess I can’t blame the insurance company.  If I had to pay for it, I’d be like, “We’re getting our tourniquets at a yard sale this year” or “We can’t draw your blood until July when the summer tourniquets go on clearance, because I am not paying full price” or “Make sure you hang onto that tourniquet and bring it back with you next time.”