No pun intended, but medical insurance is costing me an arm and leg nowadays. The costs of in-network and out-of-network doctor copays, deductibles, and out of pocket maximums have gotten maximally unaffordable.
If you do get sick, don’t try filling a prescription. At the drug store, you’ll be met with a long list of decisions you’ll have to make in your sickened state. Do you choose: generic, non-generic, formulated, or non-formulated. Each comes with its own separate copay.
You can even choose the ever popular “We’re just gonna charge you as much as we can, because we’re the only company that makes the drug you need.”
Okay, so I exaggerated a little with that last one, but getting sick and then trying to figure out what and who to pay is stressing me out and giving me high blood pressure.
They make drugs for that, but it comes with a $100 deductible, and when you pick it up you have to stand on one foot, rub your belly, and pat your head at the same time, but be careful. Fall down and get injured, then you’ll have to visit the orthopedic surgeon, and trust me, that gets really pricey.
So am I complaining just to complain? No, Dear Reader, not this time. But I think I’ve come up with an inexpensive solution to staying well or at least for staying away from the orthopedic surgeon. And I owe it all to Mr. Hood.
Mr. Hood, my 10th-grade history teacher at Briarwood High School, home of the Mighty Buccaneers, said, “Don’t complain about something unless you have a better solution,”
Of course I was complaining about taking his Friday test on the materials I was supposed to have read and studied but hadn’t. My solution was simple — not to take the test. Mr. Hood thought differently, and needless to say, the grade I earned was less than stellar – a lot less. Still, I never forgot what he taught me that day — don’t complain unless you have a better solution.
My solution for all those high medical bills is simple and less expensive than any copay – don’t get hurt in the first place. Just wrap yourself in bubble wrap. If I thought of it years ago, it sure would’ve saved me lots of pain and lots of scars while growing up at 110 Flamingo Street.
Think bubble wrapping yourself to keep from getting hurt isn’t a good idea? Well, let’s take a look at some of the injuries to me, my three brothers and, yes, even The Sister, that it could’ve prevented.
When The Sister rolled down the hill in our backyard while riding inside the giant tractor tire, she probably wouldn’t have fallen out and broken her arm if she had been wrapped in bubble wrap. She would’ve still crashed and fallen out when she hit the boulder at the edge of the swamp, but at least her arm wouldn’t have been broken.
Bubble-wrapping the top of Big Brother James’s head before his birthday party sure would’ve prevented him from getting all those stitches. When he turned 11, James got a new three-speed bike for his birthday and accidentally fell off when we were playing tag. He hit his head on the curb, was scooped up by Dad, rushed to Doc Jim’s, and received 12 stitches.
He “accidentally” fell off when I crashed into him at a high rate of speed. Still feel bad about that, but bubble wrap would’ve prevented the injury, the trip to Doc Jim’s, and that two-inch scar on the top of his head. (You can really see it now that he’s losing his hair.)
When the skates fell off the back of the Flamingo Street Racer go-cart, Twin Brother Mark would’ve been saved two broken fingers and a broken wrist. If we’d completely covered Mark’s right hand in bubble wrap, he wouldn’t have broken anything while crashing into Old Mrs. Crabtree’s mailbox.
The mailbox still would’ve been broken and he would’ve still had to work half the summer to pay for it, but at least he wouldn’t have to do all that work with a pink cast on his arm. Yes, I painted it pink when he was asleep.
Older Brother Richard wouldn’t have spent two days in the hospital if he had simply used bubble wrap while inside our steamroller. Yellow jackets can’t sting through bubble wrap, even when you just rolled over their underground nest in a steamroller made out of an industrial-strength reinforced cardboard refrigerator box.
Lastly, bubble wrap would’ve saved me many times from my archenemy, Down the Street Bully Brad. If I had walked around wrapped in bubble wrap, he could’ve punched me in the arms or chest all day, thrown rocks and dirt clods till his arms tired, or even hurled the most dreaded projectile of all – a slush ball – and I would’ve been uninjured.
I’d like to say his weekly beating helped me get tough and ready to take on the world, but mostly they just hurt and all I got was really sore. Too bad I didn’t have any bubble wrap back then.
Yes, bubble wrap would’ve saved us from many childhood injuries growing up on Flamingo Street. Looking back over the last couple of years, it would’ve saved me from at least four injuries, six trips to the orthopedic surgeon, and two operations.
I wonder if I can get an industrial-size roll delivered to the house? I’m babysitting both granddaughters Saturday, and with all that toddling going on, someone’s bound to fall down and get seriously injured – me, not them.
Little One doesn’t toddle. She went straight from crawling to running, and Sweet Caroline just coos and gives toothless smiles.
[Rick Ryckeley, who lives in Senoia, served as a firefighter for more than two decades and has been a weekly columnist since 2001. His email is storiesbyrick@gmail.com. His books are available at www.RickRyckeley.com.]
