I haven’t written in awhile because I have been racking my brain with this entry. I wasn’t sure if I should approach this subject or not. I am getting up on my soap box. Leave now if you don’t want to read further. You were warned.
Most of you know that my husband had his appendix taken out back in March (if you didn’t, now you do). I have to explain the time line because it is relevant so bear with me.
Thursday-All day and night
Persistent stomach Pain
Friday-
8:00am – 1:00 pm-Huge fight over whether or not he should go to the doctors or not. I win.
2:00pm- He sees the doctor at the walk in clinic (I was unable to get an appt at his regular doctors office).
3:00pm-The doctor at the walk in clinic sends him to the emergency room.
4:00pm-I pick up the kids and bring them to the hospital. Spoke to the surgeon. They schedule him for surgery
5:00pm-I take kids back home for dinner
9:00pm-I go back to the hospital (kids are in bed)
10:00pm-He is drugged up and ready for surgery.
11:00pm-He goes into surgery.
11:30pm-The doctor comes out and says everything is fine.
11:45pm-He is back in his room still drugged up. I go home.
Saturday-
8:00am-He is up and wants to go home. He’s hungry and wants to eat.
9:00am-As soon as the doctor comes in he can be checked out.
11:00am-I take the kids with me to the hospital to pick him up (I was watching my nephews too so I had five kids with me).
So in the matter of less than 24 hours, his appendix has been taken care of.
Now onto the medical bills, this is where everything turns for the worst. For weeks, I anxiously await the bills to be delivered. No bills yet. Still waiting.
After about a month, we received a few statements from our medical insurance. The first one not too bad, the second one not too bad, but the third one I open up…I know the suspense is killing you…my mouth drops open and a few impolite words escape (no children were around).
Remember he was there less than 24 hours and as you recall from the schedule he didn’t go into surgery until 11:00pm. Can you guess how much the bill was just for the facility?
A little over $25,000. HE WAS ADMITTED AROUND 9:00PM AND LEFT 11:00AM THE NEXT MORNING. This is double the cost of one of my pregnancies when I stayed for two full days. This doesn’t even include the emergency room costs or the walk in clinic costs or the surgeon who performed the surgery. By this time, I am so pissed off. I call my husband yelling about how the medical industry is such a scam and we are being robbed legally.
After I calm down, I begin to think rationally (at least rationally for me). I put together a plan. I look up all the phone numbers for all the hospitals in the Milwaukee/Waukesha area. I call everyone to get an estimate just on the facility costs of this type of surgery. Then I call the hospital to get an itemized list.
So the hospitals that actually called me back are as follows:
Waukesha Memorial $16K
Columbia St Marys $18K
So where did West Allis Memorial come up with their number? It is still a mystery to me. I have yet to actually pay a bill, but I will let you know if my complaining helps reduce any of them. It is a full time job to tackle the medical industry.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Monday, June 15, 2009
Are smoothies really worth the trouble?
Some days when I think I have enough time I try to overcompensate for not being a better mother by making the perfect breakfast in the morning. Of course, my children don’t actually appreciate it (most of the time they complain about something), but I continue to do it anyway (because I’m the mom and I think I know what’s best).
On to preparing the yummy smoothie they like. I equally pour the smoothie into the same size cups (so there will be no complaining about which cup they get). And I even give each a straw (what a nice mom I am). Now onto making the toast (whole grain, high fiber bread sprinkled lightly with a cinnamon/sugar mixture, otherwise they won’t eat the wheat bread). As I busy myself with the toast, the dreadful silence befalls followed by the slap of a cup hitting the floor.
At this point in the morning, I was actually on time for work. Everyone was dressed and packed for school. We just had to eat, brush our teeth and get out the door. No matter how early I wake up on a Monday, something always seems to throw me off my schedule.
The problem wasn’t actually the spillage of smoothie all over my floor. It was the bounce factor when the smoothie hit the floor. The projecting liquid splattered all over the back of my nicely pressed pants. Not just a few drops like when you step in a rain puddle, but more like when a car drives through a puddle and the water splatters all over your back. This pretty much tipped the scale and I had a melt down.
But all is good because the same child spilled her full glass of milk at dinner. Who’s idea was it to get them off of sippy cups? On the bright side, I already have half the floor mopped.
On to preparing the yummy smoothie they like. I equally pour the smoothie into the same size cups (so there will be no complaining about which cup they get). And I even give each a straw (what a nice mom I am). Now onto making the toast (whole grain, high fiber bread sprinkled lightly with a cinnamon/sugar mixture, otherwise they won’t eat the wheat bread). As I busy myself with the toast, the dreadful silence befalls followed by the slap of a cup hitting the floor.
At this point in the morning, I was actually on time for work. Everyone was dressed and packed for school. We just had to eat, brush our teeth and get out the door. No matter how early I wake up on a Monday, something always seems to throw me off my schedule.
The problem wasn’t actually the spillage of smoothie all over my floor. It was the bounce factor when the smoothie hit the floor. The projecting liquid splattered all over the back of my nicely pressed pants. Not just a few drops like when you step in a rain puddle, but more like when a car drives through a puddle and the water splatters all over your back. This pretty much tipped the scale and I had a melt down.
But all is good because the same child spilled her full glass of milk at dinner. Who’s idea was it to get them off of sippy cups? On the bright side, I already have half the floor mopped.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Is Mom more likely to panic or Dad?
Well we had a fun filled weekend with activity galore by Saturday night. We took all three girls fishing with us on Friday evening. They did really well considering we usually only last one hour with them in the boat. This time we made it two hours and they weren’t even complaining.
Then on Saturday, we had two birthday parties. One at Fun World in the morning and our neighbor had a bouncy house for her birthday next door in the afternoon. So by 6:00pm, the girls were done. We went in the house to watch a movie and go to sleep by 7:00pm. The whole family piled on our bed to watch a movie and relax. James and I fell asleep (we were tired too) only to be awaken by Child #2 screaming “My eye, my eye. It burns.” We both jump up, similar to bouncing on your butt on a trampoline and coming to a standing position. I ran to Child #2 to ask what happened and James disappears to who knows where. She won’t tell me what happened so I quickly assess the situation. She had come out of the bathroom so I went into the bathroom and found her daddy’s cologne bottle lying on the counter (I just bought it. It was an advanced Father’s day gift). Great, she must have sprayed her eye with it. I lift her on the counter and start dousing her eye with water to flush the cologne out.
James comes in yelling, “Don’t use water.” He has the phone in his hand dialing someone’s number.
I calmly ask, “Why not?” As I continue to put water on her eye.
“I’m calling poison control. We should wait to see what they say.”
Of course, I think he is joking, right and say, “Are you serious?” In the meantime, Child #2 says her eye still hurts so I take all her clothes off and put her in the shower. After a few seconds, she says her eye feels better.
“Yes. You don’t know if you should use water to flush it out.” At this point I see that he is serious and is a little panicked.
With my sarcastic tone, “Where are you from? What substance wouldn’t require water to flush out of the eyes?”
He simply replies, “gasoline.”
It is hard to hide my chuckle at this point. “Do we have any gasoline in the house?” That pretty much ended our conversation.
Anyway, Child #2 is okay. We did the eye test and she still can see. We are pretty sure she learned her lesson. Obviously she was trying to smell nice like daddy. Lesson learned here is that anything new coming into the house has to be discussed even if it is only hazardous at a small level.
Then on Saturday, we had two birthday parties. One at Fun World in the morning and our neighbor had a bouncy house for her birthday next door in the afternoon. So by 6:00pm, the girls were done. We went in the house to watch a movie and go to sleep by 7:00pm. The whole family piled on our bed to watch a movie and relax. James and I fell asleep (we were tired too) only to be awaken by Child #2 screaming “My eye, my eye. It burns.” We both jump up, similar to bouncing on your butt on a trampoline and coming to a standing position. I ran to Child #2 to ask what happened and James disappears to who knows where. She won’t tell me what happened so I quickly assess the situation. She had come out of the bathroom so I went into the bathroom and found her daddy’s cologne bottle lying on the counter (I just bought it. It was an advanced Father’s day gift). Great, she must have sprayed her eye with it. I lift her on the counter and start dousing her eye with water to flush the cologne out.
James comes in yelling, “Don’t use water.” He has the phone in his hand dialing someone’s number.
I calmly ask, “Why not?” As I continue to put water on her eye.
“I’m calling poison control. We should wait to see what they say.”
Of course, I think he is joking, right and say, “Are you serious?” In the meantime, Child #2 says her eye still hurts so I take all her clothes off and put her in the shower. After a few seconds, she says her eye feels better.
“Yes. You don’t know if you should use water to flush it out.” At this point I see that he is serious and is a little panicked.
With my sarcastic tone, “Where are you from? What substance wouldn’t require water to flush out of the eyes?”
He simply replies, “gasoline.”
It is hard to hide my chuckle at this point. “Do we have any gasoline in the house?” That pretty much ended our conversation.
Anyway, Child #2 is okay. We did the eye test and she still can see. We are pretty sure she learned her lesson. Obviously she was trying to smell nice like daddy. Lesson learned here is that anything new coming into the house has to be discussed even if it is only hazardous at a small level.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Brown Slacks
So my friend and I went to Boston Store during our lunch hour for a big sale. My goal was to purchase three carry-on luggage pieces for each one of my children for our trip in July to visit my brother and his family in Maryland. This will be their first airplane ride so the girls are all very excited (the luggage is purple too so they will be even more excited). I might not actually be able to show them the luggage until a few days before we leave due to the factor of no concept of time.
Anyway, you know when you have two characters walking side by side in a comedy movie. One is talking and the other one is listening and all of a sudden the one listening disappears from the screen. Well that was me when I was trying to find my keys in my purse and I didn’t realize the curb was so close. Down I went (it’s brutal shopping for bargains). Of course, I was okay, a little embarrassed, but okay. I was more bummed about my favorite brown slacks. They have two skinned knees on them. Hopefully, no one will notice at work. Now I know where Child #3 gets her clumsiness from. Apparently it’s from me.
Anyway, you know when you have two characters walking side by side in a comedy movie. One is talking and the other one is listening and all of a sudden the one listening disappears from the screen. Well that was me when I was trying to find my keys in my purse and I didn’t realize the curb was so close. Down I went (it’s brutal shopping for bargains). Of course, I was okay, a little embarrassed, but okay. I was more bummed about my favorite brown slacks. They have two skinned knees on them. Hopefully, no one will notice at work. Now I know where Child #3 gets her clumsiness from. Apparently it’s from me.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Enjoy Your Boredom!
I don’t know who said this, but this is my favorite quote, “Enjoy your boredom now because once you have kids bored doesn’t exist.”
Pre-children, I spent the weekends cleaning my house, loafing around, watching movies, reading an occasional book going out when I felt like it-the blissful years of no pressure.
Why is it when you are given the chance to relax the time flies by so quickly it doesn’t even feel like you got the chance to relax?
Post-children, you hardly get a moment to yourself to even think. It is so hard to slow down when you have been going 100mph, but once you do you want more. Then you feel a temper tantrum coming on when you don’t get more time. Very similar to how kids are when you give them some candy or a little freedom and then they don’t just want a little more they want the world. What is up with human nature? We are one messed up species.
Cliche that comes to mind:
You want what you can’t have.
Pre-children, I spent the weekends cleaning my house, loafing around, watching movies, reading an occasional book going out when I felt like it-the blissful years of no pressure.
Why is it when you are given the chance to relax the time flies by so quickly it doesn’t even feel like you got the chance to relax?
Post-children, you hardly get a moment to yourself to even think. It is so hard to slow down when you have been going 100mph, but once you do you want more. Then you feel a temper tantrum coming on when you don’t get more time. Very similar to how kids are when you give them some candy or a little freedom and then they don’t just want a little more they want the world. What is up with human nature? We are one messed up species.
Cliche that comes to mind:
You want what you can’t have.
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