Now that the numbness has worn off
Yesterday I completed the second skirmish in my war against periodontitis, getting the other half of my teeth scaled to get rid of all the nasties in there. Fortunately, it wasn’t a bad experience at all; I had the Crowded House turned up on my music player and the novocaine did its thang. Thanks to everybody who reassured me about what the whole thing was going to be like—it really wasn’t bad at all.
But despite all this happiness and sunshine, it’s time for me to pitch a bitch. In this most timely article, we learn that oral health is being shown by more and more studies to play a significant role in overall physical health. That’s interesting news, and let me tell you that I’d happily have that scaling done many times over my lifetime if I meant I was less likely to have a heart attack or develop diabetes, osteoporosis, or whatever other diseases are lurking out there that might be linked to gum disease.
That’s not the bitch part. Here’s the bitch part. I just spent $450 getting this procedure done, and because I’ve exceeded my paltry maximum coverage for the year on preventive dental care, I’ll have to pay entirely out of pocket for my next required cleaning and exam in November. Does this make a damn bit of sense to anyone? I could go to a doctor for a bruised elbow or a freaking hangnail and pay one lousy $15 copay. Meanwhile, I take what are obviously considerably more crucial steps to preserve my health, and it costs me something around $600? Why exactly is dental care separate from medical care anyway, in the tiny minds of the healthcare and insurance industries? (Yeah, the cynic in all of us knows the answer to that, but let’s ask the question anyway.) Diseases like diabetes and heart disease are long-term, expensive illnesses to treat. They kill people all the time, for pity’s sake. Doesn’t it make sense to throw me $600 to head all that shit off, rather than hold on to the money now and risk having to spend a million trying to treat me down the road?
And here’s where I thank fate and fortune that I have the money to pay for this stuff. It pisses me off to think how many people are not so lucky. Why the hell can’t we fix the healthcare system in this damn country.
This rant has been brought to you by early stage periodontitis. Make sure you know how to floss properly, people! It sucks but it beats the alternatives. And no one else is going to help your ass out when it comes to it, either.
That’s not the bitch part. Here’s the bitch part. I just spent $450 getting this procedure done, and because I’ve exceeded my paltry maximum coverage for the year on preventive dental care, I’ll have to pay entirely out of pocket for my next required cleaning and exam in November. Does this make a damn bit of sense to anyone? I could go to a doctor for a bruised elbow or a freaking hangnail and pay one lousy $15 copay. Meanwhile, I take what are obviously considerably more crucial steps to preserve my health, and it costs me something around $600? Why exactly is dental care separate from medical care anyway, in the tiny minds of the healthcare and insurance industries? (Yeah, the cynic in all of us knows the answer to that, but let’s ask the question anyway.) Diseases like diabetes and heart disease are long-term, expensive illnesses to treat. They kill people all the time, for pity’s sake. Doesn’t it make sense to throw me $600 to head all that shit off, rather than hold on to the money now and risk having to spend a million trying to treat me down the road?
And here’s where I thank fate and fortune that I have the money to pay for this stuff. It pisses me off to think how many people are not so lucky. Why the hell can’t we fix the healthcare system in this damn country.
This rant has been brought to you by early stage periodontitis. Make sure you know how to floss properly, people! It sucks but it beats the alternatives. And no one else is going to help your ass out when it comes to it, either.
