The time has come: the medical bills, for the birth of our son, have started to roll in. We had put away some money – around $4,000, based on what we thought our insurance deductible was ($3,000) – for this purpose, so we weren’t exactly caught off-guard, but I have to say, there’s nothing like getting a $58,000 bill in the post (for my hospital stay – not including the surgery itself, Atlas’ care, anaesthetist charges, individual doctor charges…) to truly impress upon you the sheer madness of the American health system.
The anaesthetist, by the way, was $7,500; my OB, who conducted the C-section delivery, charged $4,000; the doctor who came into the room to check Atlas out twice, for a total of maybe 15 minutes, cost just under $500. Again: madness.
Monday
I have an appointment at my OB’s office this morning – my six-week postpartum check-up – at 9.45am, so after a morning of feeding and cuddling the baby, I head off to find out just how well everything’s healing.
As usual, I have a list of questions I want to ask: can I exercise? Is it okay to have a hot bath now? Is it normal that my stomach still hurts every now and then? But, as usual, I entirely forget to ask any of said questions.
Anyway, she tells me that my incision is healing nicely, advises that I not get pregnant for at least another year to allow my uterus time to heal, and asks what contraceptive methods we’re thinking of using. LOL! I tell her I’ll get back to her on that front in a few weeks.
I take myself to Starbucks on the way home, and top up my account on the way. ($20)
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