Several weeks ago I had to have some blood drawn, which I hate. The technicians who draw blood are called phlebotomists. Not a user-friendly name. Anyway, usually blood draws from me go without a hitch and sometimes, with a really good phlebotomist, or just because on that particular day my nerve synapses are feeling lazy, I don't feel a thing. Most often I do. But on really bad days, when the phlebotomist is feeling frisky or I’m bouncing off the walls, it goes badly.
I pick a place from a list of labs my doctor gave me. I arrive early and am informed I have two choices, the hospital lab or a private lab up a couple of floors and over. I pick the hospital lab since I’m lazy and there already. I hand the receptionist my doc’s instructions and ask what it’s going to cost me. She doesn’t know and squints at me like I’m asking her the color of her panties.
"Is it cheaper up stairs?" I ask. She doesn’t know this either.
Looking bored and upset that she has a customer, she starts to ask me questions like we’re in forced couples therapy.
"You know," she says, "We have to ask all these questions. They don’t upstairs."
"So do I get a discount," I ask, "or a free shopping spree if I answer correctly?" She is not amused. Given the out, I tell her I’ll try my luck upstairs.
Once there, it’s no ninety-nine questions but neither do they know what it is going to cost me. Defeated I stay for the blood draw. Soon a green-lab-coated lady takes me in the room with the funny chair with the arm rest for blood draws. I imagine that it would be amusing to buy a couple for my clients to sit in at my law office just to let them know what they’re in for. I sit, roll up my sleeve, position my bare arm on the rest while she gets the needle ready. She paws my arm.
"Wow, you have great veins," she says.
"Thanks," I acknowledge. "I was the vein model for the last Grey’s Anatomy tome."
"No," she gasps, "That was my favorite."
"Yep. That was me."
"Wow," she continues, "So what about, huh, the huh."
"Yep, me too." She blushes.
"You’re kidding," she states.
"Yes, sorry. I am," I admit.
"You’re funny. You almost had me going. Well, here goes," she states as she plunges in with the needle. It hurts.
"Oh, that’s weird," she comments.
"What?" I ask.
"Look, no blood. Let’s see," she says as she starts probing around with the needle under my skin.
That’s when I looked. I don’t know if it was what I said that holds the clue or seeing the needle probe around like a sci-fi-under-skin creepy crawler, but I remember saying, "That hurts," and that’s all. I came to with a cold pack on my head and one of those nasty ammonia sticks thrust to my nostrils. I apologize for passing out. She then mentions that she found out that her lab is cheaper for blood draws and testing than the hospital’s but that the cost of the cold pack and smelling salts would bring it up to be about the same. Since I didn’t authorize them, I ask her if they have to go on my bill. She says yes because she had implied consent while I was unconscious.
I then start to leave.
"Where you going?" she asks.
"You didn’t get any blood?" I ask.
"No," she answers.
"So, can we use the same needle and cold pack to save on expenses?"
"No," she responds smiling. I groan and roll up my other sleeve.
"Don’t worry," she soothes as she gets the second needle ready, "It was a bad needle."
"So how much for a lobotomy?" I jokingly ask. Her eyes light up.
"How did you know I have been trained to do those?" she asks.
"Well phlebotomist sounds like lobotomist."
"Bingo," she says, "I'll Tell you what, if you pass out again, I’ll assume I have implied consent and I’ll do it for free."
Now I’m worried.
Loren M. Lambert
© May 11, 2008
4 comments:
I just hate it that doctors can't give you a price on things. They need to be spanked.
All I can say is WOW. Not only are you dumb enough to ask lab techs about pricing, then pass out having your blood drawn, but you post your stupidity on your blog.
Ouch! You know, God, I always cherish those rare moments when you pipe in to put me in my place and tell it like it is, but I prefer it when you manifest your supreme infallibility as the God of the New Testament. You're so much nicer then!
0h, and PS, if everyone that provides customer service in my office knows how much I charge, why don't the "lab techs" that are the only one's to be seen know what they charge for their services nor could they tell me who I could ask? Could it be that this is part of the many things wrong with the medical industrial complex?
For a CMP (for the lay people - a basic blood panel) the patient will be charged $255.00 in the hospital lab, $79.00 - $115.00 in the private lab or doctors office.
If you have insurance, insurance will pay the same specific amount whether you go to the hospital or the other place The patient will have their co-pay and/or their portion to pay (except Medicare and Medicaid patients - they cannot be billed for any remainder).
But, if you don't have insurance, the patient gets to pay it ALL - no matter where you went. By the way, private insurance generally pays $$79-$115.
Next. there is a new vein access method for drawing blood and starting IVs that TOTALLY removes the 'mystery' that currently surrounds and envelopes the blood draw process. It's called Vein Access Technologies (.com). It is a 'no tourniquet' blood draw or IV start. That's for starters. And it only gets better from there..... no smacking, slapping, flicking or tapping, no mutliple stick events - the tech can determine the site of the vein 100% of the time and determine if the vein will tolerate the procedure and NOT pop like an over distended water balloon when they stick it, AND SO MUCH MORE.
They know, like the patient knows, that the current method for drawing blood is OLD and many times BARBARIC. Look up the original definition of phlebotomy - 'to cut a blood vessel with a scalpel' - yikes!
Hope this helps. It has changed the way blood is drawn and IVs are started in our little medical community in Illinois. M. Gail Stotler, B.S.N., R.N. / Vein Access Technologist
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