Stranger Sweethearts

As soon as I'm back in a weekly routine and having regular counseling sessions again, I plan to go back to reading Voices of Cancer, The Healing Companion: Stories for Courage, Comfort and Strength. I can't read this book without sessions because, despite the name, these stories make me fearful, uncomfortable and weak-willed. They are so much like my own story, it feels like they are about me. But, I want to be able to read it because, they are so much like my own story and it feels like they are about me.

I also hope weekly counseling will help me tackle some other challenging pages. That is, the pages and pages of medical bills that I have stashed away in various sensible and nonsensical places. I think I've paid them all, but I'm not really sure. Mostly, I think I've paid them all because it seems like I've paid dozens and dozens of them and I just can't imagine that there's anyone else out there who really deserves a slice of my incredible shrinking checking account.

It's hard to keep track. All the bills come from places that sound like Diagnostic Cellular Anesthesiological Imaging at Marion Prosthetic Laboratory Center for Healing. But of course, I can just make the check out to D C A I M P L C H.

I'm sure I'm exagerating. I'm sure these bills are not all as confusing as they seem. I think the fact that I am so snowballed by them is just more proof of something I have probably already written a dozen times in this blog: It's hard to think clearly about something that brings up strong feelings.

Of course, even if you've got steady pay checks coming in, it's natural to have some negative feelings when people want money from you. And, even if you're in perfect health, it's natural to feel a little scared when it comes to medical issues. As an unemployed cancer-survivor I have extra-strong feeling on both these topics. Double whammy indeed.

Because my fears of impending poverty and recurring carcinoma are counterbalanced by feelings of immense gratitude towards everyone who cared for me this past year, I manage to write the checks and put them in the mail with proper postage. It's unpleasant, but I do it.

Except for one.

I actually got a bill from Dr. H's office. If you've read my previous entries, you may remember that Dr. H is the surgeon who's attitude towards me felt so condescending, dismissive and confrontational that I walked out during the first few minutes of our scheduled consultation. I waited two weeks for that appointment. I waited an hour in his waiting room and another 30 minutes in the exam room. He spent fewer than 10 minutes of his time infurriating me, and then he sent me a bill for his time.

I really just can't believe it.

I haven't paid it. I don't even know where it is right now. If I remember correctly, the bill was for almost $200 and my insurance company paid for most of that. I just have a small co-pay due. Really, it would be worth the money just to pay it and forget about it, rather than spend my time and energy on the hassle of it all. But I just can't stand the idea that he is getting away with treating his patients like he treated me and then actually being reimbursed!

It's so upsetting I don't even know where to start. I guess I'm going to have to fight my insurance company and try to get them not to pay on of my providers. How ironic.

Maybe working my way through Voices of Cancer will give me some ideas. Maybe I'm not the only one having this kind of trouble with my medical bills. I know I'm not the only one whose been frustrated by doctors like this one. Before I had to put the book down, I found this on page 175,


"I found the medical world to be...filled with strangers who called me sweetheart and who expected me to simply present my body to them for procedures and treatment."

It describes Dr. H exactly. Maybe, instead of a check, I'll send him this book.