Please oh please let it be a sprain. The Tween-let’s ankle was the size of a lemon and growing. I pressed my fingers all over her foot. “Does it hurt here?” I asked. She shook her head. I rotated it this way and that. “How about now?” She shook her head again. I touched the swollen part. “OUCH!”
“That’ll be a $25 co-pay.” The receptionist smiled, her hand still on the book she was reading when I walked up, “Everybody In The Church Ain’t Saved,” her finger doing bookmark duty. I handed her my debit card as the literary snob in me cringed at the title, and the unpublished novelist part of me reared its jealous head.
The pediatrician was chatty, but not saying what I wanted to hear. “Localized pain, not good.” Tap-tap-tap—his fingers moved across the computer keyboard as he spoke. “I’m sending her to x-ray.”
We finally leave with the Tween-let in a restrictive boot and on crutches. We return the next day (and to another $25 co-pay) to have a cast put on the now officially diagnosed fractured ankle. $100 co-pay for the E/R doc to read her x-ray, cost of crutches and the restrictive boot she wore for all of two hours, $4 to park. It adds up. Can someone say healthcare reform?
You know what the good part is? I had the money! I could pay all of it. No credit card required, no borrowing. Life is good all the time. I am grateful everyday for our health; there is nothing more precious.
Something spectacular is just around the bend…