Guess How Much My Recent Heart Procedure Cost

The whole procedure took less than an hour. It prevented what could have been a major heart attack.

I recently had a stent put in an artery near my heart. This stent opened up the artery which was clogged so that blood could once again freely flow through. I was in the hospital for one day, not overnight. A tube was inserted in my wrist, directed through arteries up to my heart where a camera took a look at what was going on and installed the stent.

I was in recovery for a few hours after that. I am in cardiac rehabilitation for three months.

There is no doubt that it was a remarkable procedure. You could even say that it was a miracle of modern medicine. You could argue that it prolonged my life for many years.

Here's a fact that you can't argue with: the cost of having this done was over $74,000.

Here are my thoughts after seeing that figure on my insurance claim:

• I'm lucky I have health insurance through my employer.
• I'm lucky I could swing the nearly $2,000 copayment.
• If I didn't have insurance I would have been financially wiped out by this one, single medical event because in the United States, not everyone has the right to health care.
• If I didn't have insurance, I probably would have opted not to have this procedure done. I would have taken my chances, risking a heart attack or a stroke later on.
• If I didn't have insurance, I would have ended up in an emergency room with a heart attack or a stroke, leading to my own bankruptcy, and/or costing someone (either taxpayers through public subsidies or the hospital resulting in higher health costs for everyone who can pay) much more than if I had been able to receive the less expensive earlier treatment in the first place.

I still don't know what the cardiac rehabilitation is costing. But I think it's worth it because it will help prevent future cardiac events. Fortunately, I'm in a position where I can work my schedule around the three times a week appointments, and I'm fairly certain I'll be able to afford the co-payments. 

But I've said it before and I'll say it again: I don't know what poor people are supposed to do. Just get sick and die I guess.

National Health Care Couldn't Be Worse Than This

When I call, I'm always put on hold. Then, I can't get an appointment for a month because the specialist is just too busy. Once I get into the doctor's office, I have to show the special card with my identifying number. People who don't have a card get turned away. I've seen it happen. When my name is finally called, I see a technician who takes my vitals and reviews my history, followed by a nurse who does a test, and a nurse practitioner who does a preliminary diagnosis. Finally, I am seen by a doctor who reviews everyone's notes and makes a final pronouncement before I'm hurried out the door.

Is this the nightmare of a government managed, single payer, national healthcare system?

Nope. This is my private, state-of-the-art, all-American, employer subsidized insurance paid, health care provider.

After the appointment, when the test results are in, I'm telephoned by an administrative assistant who reads the results to me but who isn't allowed to interpret them and is unable to answer my questions. It's a little more personal than the other doctor's office which refers me to the lab's website so I can read the results myself, regardless of whether I understand them.

The pharmacy does not have the specialty drug I've been prescribed. They can order it, this one is on the list of insurance approved medications, but I'll have to wait, and it will cost me the higher copay.

Endless paperwork. Limitations set by insurance companies. Overworked professionals.

As a regular consumer of medical services, I honestly don't believe that a government run health system could be any worse than the one I have to deal with. Is a faceless, soul-less, government-run bureaucracy that considers you a number and doesn't really care about you any worse than an insurance company that considers you a number and doesn't really care about you, and in addition, seeks to make a profit off of you?

I don't blame the individuals, usually, who provide the care. I blame the insurance companies who dictate the kind of care that can be provided.

I am luckier than many Americans. I at least have health insurance through my employer. I have some choice in who my doctors are. My prescriptions are covered (sure, I have copayments, but it's a tiny fraction of the actual costs). Most common tests and treatments are readily available to me should I need them.

Plus, I'm relatively healthy. I usually have the strength to assert myself through the maze of receptionists, insurance bureaucrats, answering services, and technicians to eventually get what I need.

I've asked before and I ask again: how do really sick people navigate the system? What do people do who are weak with cancer or AIDS? What if you can barely hold the phone, let alone speak up to someone who is giving you the runaround about a bill or information about your treatment?

I don't want to hear about how our health care system is better. It's not. It's at least as broken as your average government run system. It has to be. All things considered, I'd just as soon put my trust in a universal government run system, which would at least guarantee the same healthcare for everyone.

10,000 is a Lot of Steps

My new doctor is medically up to date, knowledgeable about all of my pre-existing conditions, and seems holistic in his outlook. He has a plaque on the wall from 5280 Magazine honoring him as a top Denver doc. And I'm really annoyed with him.

I figured I'd go see the primary care physician initially to get established in his practice, and then once a year for physicals and the occasional virus. My intake visit was supposed to be routine and quick; my insurance card would be copied, he would look in my ears with that pointy ear thing, I'd cough once or twice while he listened to my lungs, and I'll be on my way.

Not so fast.

After asking about my family history, checking my weight and waist size, and delving into my age (old), life style (sedentary), occupation (sedentary), and habits (sedentary), my new doctor decided I was at risk for heart disease. Long story short, I need more exercise than my four weekly gym visits, and I need to follow a stricter diet than my already established Weight Watchers inspired regime. He scheduled a follow up and gave me a month and a half to lose 10 pounds. So much for that perfunctory annual visit.

The good doctor also prescribed fish oil, a daily aspirin, and a pedometer which counts steps. I have to walk 10,000 steps each day.

The first day I had that little thing in my pocket, I conscientiously did my treadmill routine at the gym, parked further away than usual in the parking lot at work, took the stairs to my office instead of the elevator, walked to the bathroom countless times, hoofed it to the local BBQ place for dinner (I know, but I'm focusing on one goal at a time), took out the trash twice, and still barely cleared 9,000 steps. My god! What does a person have to do? I'll never make it! 

I don't really blame the doc. He's doing his job, and according to 5280, he's good at it. It's just that (and now we come to the whiny part of the blog) I thought I was doing pretty well. I don’t smoke or drink. I exercise a lot more now than I did a couple of years ago and I've been disciplined, sort of, on Weight Watchers. But when age 50 rapidly approaches, health is apparently a moving target. Just when you've got a good routine down, you get a little older and you have to do more.