Not My Finest Moment

July 28, 2014

I finally got the bill for my IUI. I’ve been curious to see exactly how it would get billed. I mean, if Dr O isn’t supposed to be doing IUIs because it’s a Catholic hospital, what would it get coded as? Artificial Insemmination. Yep. Right out there. Not even abbreviated as IUI. I don’t care. And obviously Dr O doesn’t either.

But I found it interesting. So I mentioned it to Courtney.

“You are saving all of your bills for the hospital, right?” she asked.

Well, no. Of course not. They can’t pay them. They don’t want an itemized list from me. Assuming I decide I want to take their money in the first place.

“They can’t pay it,” I replied. “It’s a Catholic hospital.”

“Oh, right. But you’re still saving them, right?” she pressed.

And I snapped. I said to drop it and never mention it again. I said that’s why my blog post said that it was probably the last time I would mention the hospital and money again. (So much for that…)

She apologized. And I, of course, feel bad. Because I really shouldn’t have snapped. I could have been nicer about it. Even though she’s one of those friends who understands. (She is really concerned about whether or not my chart has a PTSD flag on it in case something happens and I wind up being seen by someone other than my regular care providers.)

The truth is that I haven’t decided what I want to do. I need to get through this trimester. I got pregnant more quickly than I expected. I got a nice raise, so my personal finances changed. And the thought of taking a flat payment instead of simply having them pay my bills leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

So, no, I don’t want to talk about it. Let’s just find it interesting that I got a bill from a Catholic hospital for a procedure that is against the Catholic Church’s teaching. That’s really all I wanted to talk about in the first place.

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