Wait, Is This A Proctology Exam?

"Home is where your heart is, and your lungs and liver too, but despite a month long search they'll never find all of you."

When I awoke yesterday morning around 3am-ish, I felt a sharp pain in my jaw. Hmmm... Was I punched in the face in the night? No... no bruising. Oh well, must just be one of those "gentle" reminders that I'm aging. By the time I was ready for work, I was pretty well convinced I must have dislocated my jaw. As is par for the course when it comes to dealing with this caliber of horse-fukkery, I usually blow it off until I find it is impeding something so "important" that I must face the facts. One such moment occurred as I went to light my cigarette. Fuck.

In the spirit of too much information: As I was making my way into this world, the world clearly wasn't ready for the likes of me. It was the '70's. It is totally possible my mom was "medicated". It is additionally possible the delivering doctor was also medicated. Recipe for disaster? Well, the fool was armed with forceps, and that THING he had them so delicately vice-gripping was Ninja Kitty's jaw. This set the stage for all the glory that surrounds entering this world with an un-hinged jaw and the under bite from hell.

Fast forward 32 years... The day is April the 26th of 2011. Ninja Kitty can't light her fucking cigarette as her jaw has popped off to the left, and the motions of inhaling are trying to force the bone back to the right. Now it's personal. 5 calls later, it comes to light that only the most special of specialists will even agree to see me, and only with the accompanying agreement of coughing up $375 the moment I cross the threshold to the office.



"Don't you have insurance?" Them's fightin' words. You bloody well better believe I have insurance. In fact, the receptionist ooh'd and ahh'd what spec-fucking-tacular insurance I apparently have. Nonetheless, this is a "specialist" and I must satisfy the deductible first. All the while, crude visions of slamming my face against a brick wall are dancing in my head. Totally illogical since the problem is on my right side and the bone feels jammed to the left... OK, perhaps employing a small hammer (since I can't open my mouth more than a few centimeters) and knocking the sucker back in place.... I'm unsure I can get the angle right without losing a few teeth or pieces of flesh in the process.... Damnit.... "Huh? Ya, I'm still here. Ya, no, I'll take the 8:30am appointment, thanks."

So back to insurance. It is no small miracle that I'm lucky enough to work for an employer who pays 100% of the premium for my family and I. Generous is the understatement of the year. Yet here I sit, facing YET ANOTHER garnishment for medical bills from almost 2 years ago. "That's nothing", you say - Yes, but this is about the 5th such occasion. The birth of my first son cost about $6,500 out-of-pocket to date. I specify "to date" as it is still all too possible another bill or four may trickle in. No statute of limitations, it seems. I'm in the upper $3K level for the second born. Add to this various ambulance rides, post-birth health problems with both boys, MRI's, CT scans, back issues, x-rays, lab work, blood issues, organ issues, surgeries, reconstructions. Wow, there are quite evidently reasons the molds were destroyed upon our combined arrival on this planet! HA!

Well now, writing it all out like that would make one assume we should own up to single-handedly causing the exponential increase in health care costs... but I swear on all that is unholy we only waited until all our affairs were in order to finally make each call. With kiddos, it's a little more difficult (for those with a hypothetical soul) to make those judgement calls of whether to dig up household objects to aid in archaic garage-surgeries in lieu of employing more qualified help. I have learned to be the level of stubborn most can't wrap their heads around.

So I finally managed to move said jaw around just well enough to smoke said cigarette while only reaching 8 on the 1-10 pain scale. Hmm... I'm still semi-conscious, so I proceeded to the far less expensive alternative of Google. SUCCESS!!!! Could be a muscle spasm, the all-knowing computer tells me - take hydrocodone, it tells me. As it just so happens, I have plenty of that at home (most of it probably expired in the 90's, but no matter)!



Funny thing about all of this is that in the back of my head, I'm contemplating whether this may be related somehow to Karma. See, a certain mother-in-law got a certain l'il redhead Gummy Bears for Easter. A certain Ninja Kitty lusts after Gummy Bears and could easily rationalize stealing candy from a certain child based on the combination of this and the fact that this particular brand would be too tough on HIS l'il jaw..... Ninja Kitty stashed aforementioned Gummy Bears in her purse not 7 hours prior to waking up with a now-self-diagnosed-muscle-spasm in her jaw..... Superstitious Kitty returns said (unopened) Gummy Bears, pops a pill and begins to feel relief.

Now that my train of thought has derailed half a dozen or so times throughout the post, the point: The medical industry is out of control. What a sad day when some broad can't light her cigarette and can't afford to remedy that! Sure, the irony is thick when you think about the health problems I'm inviting in for coffee. Maybe this is some obnoxious goddamned sign about the hazards of smoking. I'll just go ahead and decide the ultimate lesson is to not steal candy from children unless you have either government-caliber insurance or a winning lottery ticket. Now turn your head and cough.


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Kitty

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Wait, Is This A Proctology Exam?

"Home is where your heart is, and your lungs and liver too, but despite a month long search they'll never find all of you."

When I awoke yesterday morning around 3am-ish, I felt a sharp pain in my jaw. Hmmm... Was I punched in the face in the night? No... no bruising. Oh well, must just be one of those "gentle" reminders that I'm aging. By the time I was ready for work, I was pretty well convinced I must have dislocated my jaw. As is par for the course when it comes to dealing with this caliber of horse-fukkery, I usually blow it off until I find it is impeding something so "important" that I must face the facts. One such moment occurred as I went to light my cigarette. Fuck.

In the spirit of too much information: As I was making my way into this world, the world clearly wasn't ready for the likes of me. It was the '70's. It is totally possible my mom was "medicated". It is additionally possible the delivering doctor was also medicated. Recipe for disaster? Well, the fool was armed with forceps, and that THING he had them so delicately vice-gripping was Ninja Kitty's jaw. This set the stage for all the glory that surrounds entering this world with an un-hinged jaw and the under bite from hell.

Fast forward 32 years... The day is April the 26th of 2011. Ninja Kitty can't light her fucking cigarette as her jaw has popped off to the left, and the motions of inhaling are trying to force the bone back to the right. Now it's personal. 5 calls later, it comes to light that only the most special of specialists will even agree to see me, and only with the accompanying agreement of coughing up $375 the moment I cross the threshold to the office.



"Don't you have insurance?" Them's fightin' words. You bloody well better believe I have insurance. In fact, the receptionist ooh'd and ahh'd what spec-fucking-tacular insurance I apparently have. Nonetheless, this is a "specialist" and I must satisfy the deductible first. All the while, crude visions of slamming my face against a brick wall are dancing in my head. Totally illogical since the problem is on my right side and the bone feels jammed to the left... OK, perhaps employing a small hammer (since I can't open my mouth more than a few centimeters) and knocking the sucker back in place.... I'm unsure I can get the angle right without losing a few teeth or pieces of flesh in the process.... Damnit.... "Huh? Ya, I'm still here. Ya, no, I'll take the 8:30am appointment, thanks."

So back to insurance. It is no small miracle that I'm lucky enough to work for an employer who pays 100% of the premium for my family and I. Generous is the understatement of the year. Yet here I sit, facing YET ANOTHER garnishment for medical bills from almost 2 years ago. "That's nothing", you say - Yes, but this is about the 5th such occasion. The birth of my first son cost about $6,500 out-of-pocket to date. I specify "to date" as it is still all too possible another bill or four may trickle in. No statute of limitations, it seems. I'm in the upper $3K level for the second born. Add to this various ambulance rides, post-birth health problems with both boys, MRI's, CT scans, back issues, x-rays, lab work, blood issues, organ issues, surgeries, reconstructions. Wow, there are quite evidently reasons the molds were destroyed upon our combined arrival on this planet! HA!

Well now, writing it all out like that would make one assume we should own up to single-handedly causing the exponential increase in health care costs... but I swear on all that is unholy we only waited until all our affairs were in order to finally make each call. With kiddos, it's a little more difficult (for those with a hypothetical soul) to make those judgement calls of whether to dig up household objects to aid in archaic garage-surgeries in lieu of employing more qualified help. I have learned to be the level of stubborn most can't wrap their heads around.

So I finally managed to move said jaw around just well enough to smoke said cigarette while only reaching 8 on the 1-10 pain scale. Hmm... I'm still semi-conscious, so I proceeded to the far less expensive alternative of Google. SUCCESS!!!! Could be a muscle spasm, the all-knowing computer tells me - take hydrocodone, it tells me. As it just so happens, I have plenty of that at home (most of it probably expired in the 90's, but no matter)!



Funny thing about all of this is that in the back of my head, I'm contemplating whether this may be related somehow to Karma. See, a certain mother-in-law got a certain l'il redhead Gummy Bears for Easter. A certain Ninja Kitty lusts after Gummy Bears and could easily rationalize stealing candy from a certain child based on the combination of this and the fact that this particular brand would be too tough on HIS l'il jaw..... Ninja Kitty stashed aforementioned Gummy Bears in her purse not 7 hours prior to waking up with a now-self-diagnosed-muscle-spasm in her jaw..... Superstitious Kitty returns said (unopened) Gummy Bears, pops a pill and begins to feel relief.

Now that my train of thought has derailed half a dozen or so times throughout the post, the point: The medical industry is out of control. What a sad day when some broad can't light her cigarette and can't afford to remedy that! Sure, the irony is thick when you think about the health problems I'm inviting in for coffee. Maybe this is some obnoxious goddamned sign about the hazards of smoking. I'll just go ahead and decide the ultimate lesson is to not steal candy from children unless you have either government-caliber insurance or a winning lottery ticket. Now turn your head and cough.


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