I'm part of the problem.
Yesterday, I inadvertently squandered $4,000 plus worth of medical resources during a lunch
break.
That I could do this, gain no benefit and not even see the bills, is what's right
and wrong with American medical care.
I'll tell the story, but first consider that none of the politically active reform
Form proposals being debated deal with the absence of market pricing for medical care,
that system-wide problem that there is a disconnect between the supplier and the consumer, and
this problem is absolutely pervasive.
You rarely know the prices of what you are getting, and even when you do, the prices
are an abstraction, something to know but not act on, since they don't really affect
your premiums, as with other forms of insurance.
The result is hardly surprising.
End-user costs soar higher and higher, and the resource use lacks that essential component
of economizing by priority.
The American system just assumes that there is no such thing as too much technology, too
many drugs, too much service, too much care.
The consumer, in the end, isn't really a consumer, but a passive conduit of an unchecked
Contractual Relationship Between Producer and Third Party Payers Who Were Heavily Subsidized
by Taxpayers
So, now my slightly goofy story of how I spent probably $4,000 yesterday without knowing it.
I had a chest cold of some sort that was getting on my nerve, so I finally decided to see the
doctor at a walk-in clinic.
I complained of tightness in my chest that wouldn't go away.
In minutes, an EKG machine was hooked up to my heart, and x-rays were being taken of
my chest.
Fifteen minutes later, the doctor came back to tell me that he found a big black spot
on my lungs.
He inquired about my past smoking.
Of course, at this point, I am ashen and woozy and worrying about who will update my Facebook
page after I am dead.
The doctor orders a CAT scan.
Stat!
Suddenly, I felt like I was in a television show.
I make my way to a medical specialist company, a place that looks like an industrial castle.
I'm greeted by a receptionist hooked up to an IV by nurse practitioners and slapped down
on the scanning machine, which whirls and buzzes wildly all over my chest.
The staff gathers around the pictures I can't see, but I can see all these people's faces
through a glass.
They are staring and pointing with looks of intense seriousness.
Meanwhile, the scans are sent to a radiologist in Tennessee, who is also examining them.
In my mind I've already divided up my property among heirs and I'm hoping that I have time
to train someone to do stuff that I do.
My final wishes for world peace and prosperity will be written in my last message to the
world, read to all those gathered at my funeral.
Thirty minutes later, they gather to tell me the news.
Nothing.
No one can see anything at all.
My lungs are pink, my heart is working away, and I'm healthy as can be.
The nurse suggests that the walk-in clinic needs to fix their x-ray machine, which is
evidently throwing black spots around the images.
Maybe it is a filter, maybe someone bumped the machine.
Regardless, my life was back, and I appreciated all things anew.
Oh, but wait, I pointed out to them that I never received anything from my chest cold.
The lady said, oh, that takes some use in X.
And that's what $4,000 bought yesterday between the hours of 1 and 5 p.m.
Maybe it was more, maybe it was less, I don't really know.
On the one hand, the whole process was amazing, the speed, the efficiency, the miraculous
technology.
On the other hand, it was all wholly unnecessary.
Now you might say, hey, don't complain, at least you know.
That's true enough.
But if there were really a concern about costs, I'm not entirely sure this would have happened.
And can there be any doubt that the scan was ordered over liability concerns, mainly?
Lots of people benefit in this system.
You could say that I benefited, but at what cost?
And is the cost proportional to the benefit?
This is what the system doesn't seem to address.
And the reform proposals, so far as I can tell, are designed to make what I went through
a universal feature of American medicine – it's wishful thinking.
And while the attempt might last a while, eventually it will go the same way all such
attempts go – skyrocketing costs, and universal stagnation.