Investments

In recovery terms, while I'm making progress, things remain disappointingly uninteresting (or, if you'd like, gratifyingly uninteresting—while nothing much has happened, at least nothing disastrous has occurred). The blister-turned-callus has started and almost finished the process of peeling off my foot, which is really nice. After more than a month of being distractedly not normal, my foot, as well as my ability to walk around and traverse stairs, is settling back into a more everyday groove. Also, at school today, I gave the frame some breathing time in the open air, removed the covering from one of my incisions, which looks fantastic, realized that maybe my leg would do better with more air. This was, of course, before I came home to have a dog trying to lick my pin sites, which was a nerve-racking experience. You never know what the dogs have been eating. In short, another post about my recovery wouldn't be too interesting.

What is more interesting is my hospital bill, which arrived today. Six days and a frame later, my medical bills reached a mere $73,644.47. This does not include Dr. Sundberg's fees. It does, however, include the frame, which cost a paltry $20,588.

Before I continue with this post, that number is one I can hardly get my head around. I'm eighteen, after all, and I haven't held a job or really had to pay for anything—yet. At some point I'll have a better conception what twenty-plus thousand dollars pay for, but not yet. Now, all I see is a really huge number which allows me to place some sort of numerical value on the friend presently attached to (and in) my leg.

It seems like, excluding other fees (operating room: $13,553), room and board (a lot), the price of a straight leg is about the price of a small car. Considering the benefits of a straighter leg, that number, while enormous, actually doesn't sound too bad. Remember, because of this surgery, I'm estimated to have twenty to thirty fewer years in which I'll be worrying about arthritis. Because of this surgery, I could be allowed to run again. Because of this surgery, the weight-bearing axis in the leg has shifted to a normal position and I believe I will no longer be knock-kneed. Because of this surgery, I can lead a more active lifestyle without worrying as much about consequences well down the road.

In all, those benefits sound better than a small car. This isn't a knock against small cars—I'm fine with cars, even if they are more boring than trains, boats, planes or any other mode of transportation. But those benefits are also better than a really expensive computer or a lot ("a lot" here being around $20,588 worth) of new furniture or…whatever else you can buy with that kind of money.

With that said, I'm still really happy I've got health insurance. Between health insurance and what the bill lists as "provider responsibility," all but $23.16 is being covered by somebody outside my family. After all, while I might think a Taylor Spatial Frame is a really good investment, I'd still feel really guilty if the entire medical bill came back to my family.

The numbers are, again enormous (not a lot of time in the recovery room: $2,507.50). But in the long run, I think the investment was probably worth it. And not just the money—I'm counting the couch time, the time in the back with no company but the snoring dog, the time in the wheelchair, the struggles with the walker, the time spent downstairs.

In case you couldn't tell, I'm really quite glad I had this procedure.