I'll second, or third or fourth or whatever, the lust for billing.
I'm an unfortunate soul, was "saved" from Hodgkin's lymphoma in 1976 with cobalt radiation, 4000 rads per phase, about 40 times what the near survivors of the Jap bombs were zapped with. So, for decades I've been an outcast, uninsurable unless I wanted a safe government or corporate job, not the life for me. So I hoarded a pile of cash, and the INSTANT I started thinking I might be able to ENJOY that hoard, SPLAT.
Three years short of Medicare, well, let's just say the flames re-lit and I'm trying now to figure out how I'm going to end. But I'm six months and probably 80 grand into "diagnosis" and only now is the picture clarifying, and THAT's after a hellacious struggle just getting in to see the various practitioners, who are all fully siloed into their specialties and unable to accept the fact that peasant ME figured it out. I've got at least seven tumors, two gone (finally), two inoperable already, and two others still needing invasive biopsies, I forgot the seventh (oh yeah, colon, there were five there but nothing major).
But the billing has been an outrage. 21 grand ALONE has been for three body scans, yet those expensive scans weren't good enough to determine the condition of my prostate prior to them cutting me open. Jeezus Fin Chistopher!
Hellth care, that's what it is.
If you voted for Biden, you should suck start a Glock
