I am going to ride my bike this year right up until it snows. I have not done that since I was in a local bike club many years ago. I have been riding my bike on the roads around Swanzey 300 miles a week for the past three years. I am getting close to eighty years old, so why would I do this? I am doing it because medical care in our country is imploding. Have you received notice that your supplemental Medicare Advantage insurance is pulling out of the area? Many have. Your relationship with your medical provider is a lot less about your health and a lot more about numbers than you realize.
If you are my vintage, you may recall a time when a doctor lived in the neighborhood and would come to your house with a large black satchel-like bag. The doctor knew your parents as people; the doctor knew you as a person. Measles, Chicken Pox, stitches; the doctor did it all. The mists of time have faded, but I recall a Dr. Macintyre in the tiny town of Marlborough, New Hampshire filling that role. I was five when he sewed my lower lip back on after I stood too close to a ten-year-old swinging a baseball bat.
Then there was Dr. Frank Carter who began his medical career in private practice. We had him. I would go for a visit and there was this big book with my name on it. The book was the War and Piece of my entire medical history. Once before he came in, I thumbed through the pages. I had forgotten about the broken toe I got playing sandlot football when I was sixteen. I don’t know what happened to that book; there is a computer screen now that goes back a little. It is not the fault of your assigned healthcare provider; it’s all he or she has to work with. Ten minutes in and out-time is money!
The turnover at the medical center is very high. Doctors are unhappy with the system. Doctors are not in charge—Insurance companies are. It is a numbers game; you and I are numbers. I went through three doctors and a nurse practitioner in one year and I am relatively healthy!
My wife and I had an Anthem policy that would partially cover some things-dental, vision, etc. That’s gone. We even got debit cards loaded every three months that paid for health-related items purchased anywhere. Those are gone.
I’ll keep riding my bike when there is no snow. I’ll go to the Plebian gym over at the mall in the winter—it is all I can do on my own.
I am only ten miles away from where I was born—what happened to that big book?
~S~
~S~
