"Something screwey going on..."

You know, there's nothing quite like tracking people down to GIVE them money.

Chris and I are Pay-our-Bills kind of people. But what no one tells you is that when you have a baby, the bills don't usually come in one nice little envelope. They come in a smattering of envelopes.

In the three or four months after the Boy was born, we received bills from the hospital, from the Fellow who did my c-section and the Boy's circumcision, from the pediatrics who examined him, but NOT from the anesthesiologist.

Now, I just assumed that it was because the guy screwed up and he KNEW he screwed up and so he was just dodging my WRATH. Apparently, I'm at least partly RIGHT.

I called them the other day because I got tired of waiting for them to send us a bill. I thought, I'll just call them, they can give me the balance over the phone and we can send that check off and know that we're square with the world.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Yeah. What I have left out of that equation is that 1) this is anesthesiology and 2) this is a beloved STATE institution. So...basically, nothing is simple and nothing, NOTHING will be quick.

Some of you maybe be wondering why I am so determined to track these people down and pay this bill. Well, I'm glad you asked. See, I had heard all of these horror stories of patients never actually receiving a BILL, but instead receiving notices from a collection agency. And in my mind, there is nothing so horrific as a collection agency calling you and shaming you in to paying money you were going to pay anyway.

So, I hit them with the preemptive strike. I called THEM. I spoke with a lovely woman named Rose who located my records. She chatted amiably until my records pulled up and then it was all, "hmmm. ahhhh. uh. hmmmm." And I explained to her the circumstances, half joking that maybe since that first epidural failed, I'd get the second one free (I know how medicine works, I don't actually expect to get a FREE epidural). She didn't chuckle--and I thought that was pretty funny. But alas, no.

Instead she said, "Um. I'm going to have to send this on up to my manager to take a look at. And they'll contact you." I explained that we had moved since then and that I wanted to make sure that we actually received a BILL and the opportunity to pay said bill and she said, "Well, I will make a note on your file, but you really don't need to worry about this now."

And then it got EVEN weirder. She started to mumble under her breath, and while I couldn't catch all of it, I did catch, "They haven't even billed INSURANCE yet." Which seems a bit strange given that the procedure took place OVER A YEAR AGO. As in, our insurance is DIFFERENT now!

Good grief.

And the really weird thing is this: while I am still annoyed at the first anesthesiologist (note to all aenesthesiologists: when confronted with a red-headed patient, do not mock her for having red hair and being somewhat more sensitive to pain and somewhat more resistent to pain medications. Just do your damn job and shut the hell up. You aren't funny. And mocking a patient who is in labor and in PAIN is not funny. It doesn't matter how many hours you've been on the job, I don't care. You signed up for this. Do your job and shut up about it), I really LOVED my second aenesthesiologist. She was kind and patient and gentle and did a marvelous job with the epidural as well as with me. When they finally decided for the c-section, Chris couldn't stay with me, but SHE did. And she talked to me about silly, inconsequential things, and she told me about how fantastic the Boy was going to be and how great her own kids were and she stayed with me the WHOLE time. She rubbed my arms and hands and talked to me the whole time, she did the silly breathing with me because once they tilt that table it's the only way you CAN breathe (what with 8 and a half pounds of baby sitting on your diaphragm). And while I would really appreciate it if they didn't charge me for that first horrible epidural, I'd really like Kathleen the Lovely Aenesthesiologist to get paid.