THE GOSPEL OF MEDICAL INSURANCE

           It is commonly said that hospitals and medical insurance companies have an unholy tie-up, putting patients with medical insurance through unwanted tests and check-ups to extort money from them—or, rather, from the insurance companies. I wanted to check the truth behind this rumour. I decided to visit a big hospital in the town to consult for non-existing ‘occasional pain’ on the left of the chest, ‘difficulty breathing,' ‘excessive perspiration,' and a ‘systemic tiredness’ over and above all these symptoms.

I was waiting in front of the cardiologist’s consulting room, which had rows and rows of chairs that resembled a big airport’s waiting area at a gate. There was a big colourful poster on the wall in front of me, next to the consulting room, depicting two hands carefully and cautiously holding a heart and these lines written in small letters above:    

 

The Heart

Is the medicine cabinet

Of caregiving.

It’s where the

Miracle drugs of composition

& empathy are kept

A beautiful-looking girl called my name, and I slowly walked into the doctor’s room like a prisoner moving to the gallows.  It was a rather big room with blue-painted walls, and a concoction of different smells rushed into my nostrils.  The smell could be coming from several medicines stored on racks and scattered across his large office table, as well as from the expensive brand of soap and hand wash located by the washbasin in the corner. If the doctor and the nurse in their white uniforms and the table with the medicines were taken out, the room would have resembled a three-star hotel room.  Anyway, now I realized ‘the medicine cabinet’ mentioned in the poster was on the wall here right in front of me!

 

The doctor was a young man with a gold-plated name board displaying a list of his graduate and postgraduate degrees and his special international clinical accreditations.  I really felt jealous about his professional degrees, wishing I had just one of them!

The doctor wearing thick, dark-framed, square-shaped glasses looked at me, nodded gravely to me, and waved his hand, asking me to sit on a chair to his left. I slowly walked and sat on that chair.

 “What is your problem?” The doctor asked me.

 I recited, like a kindergarten child reciting a rhyme, all my ailments and looked at the doctor’s face.  I could see his eyes sparking like an angler’s when he finds a fish has bitten his bait. He looked at me gravely for a moment and said.

 “UHmmmmm. From what you say, I am afraid that you have some serious problems. But I can confirm it only after some tests.  You can do them in this hospital itself.”

 I pretended to be worried and, about to go into tears, asked:

 “I will do the tests in this hospital itself, Doctor. But… will you please let me know the total test charges?”

 “Around Rupees twenty thousand.   If you have insurance, we can include all the treatment expenses in the insurance.” The doctor advised me.

“I have insurance, Doctor,” I said with glee and continued, “Now I don’t have sufficient money with me, and hence I will come tomorrow and finish the tests.”

 “That’s fine.” His seriousness suddenly disappeared, and he it said with a broad smile. “You will get the results only after two days.  Once you get the results, just inform the nurse here, and you can come and meet me straight away without any waiting.” The doctor sounded very cooperative.

 The next day I went to the hospital to undergo the tests. It took nearly an hour before I could pay for the tests while waiting in a serpentine queue.

 On the morning of the third day, I walked straight into the doctor's room and placed the file containing my test results on his table. He leaned on his chair and started checking my reports, carelessly flipping pages.  He placed the file softly on his table and looked at me pensively for a few moments and said in a low and very serious tone,

 “Mr…….Your condition is graver than what I presumed. I am sorry that you have to undergo heart surgery and one arterial surgery.”

 I pretended to look terrified and nearly exclaimed,

 “Is it? Am I that sick?”

 “Yes. You are.” The doctor was cool.

The doctor seemed very eager to cure my ailment, and we discussed the operation that seemed essential to be conducted within a week. When I heard the operation cost again, I pretended to be shocked, as it was a whopping four hundred thousand Rupees!   The doctor, who might have suspected that I might change my mind, said in a rejuvenating tone:

 “You have insurance for Rupees eight hundred thousand.   You don’t need to worry about anything.  Sign a few insurance papers, get operated on, relax in our comfortable deluxe rooms for a week, and just walk out of the hospital as a fresh person.”

 Now comes the second part.

 I got the name of another big hospital in a town far from mine.

 Activities were almost the same in this hospital also, except for this part:

 “I will do the tests here itself, Doctor. But… will you please let me know the total test charges?”

 “Around Rupees twenty thousand.   If you have insurance, we can include all the treatment expenses in the insurance.” The doctor advised me.

 

“I am not insured, doctor,” I said in a defeated tone. “Now I don’t have sufficient money with me, and hence I will come tomorrow and finish the tests.”

 The doctor looked dismayed and said in a disinterested tone:

 "Just show me the test results when you get them.”

 He would have pushed me out of the room if I had stayed in his room any longer!

Two days later, I called the hospital and booked an appointment with the same doctor at 10 am. I collected the medical reports and took a seat in front of the doctor’s consulting room. He came before ten and waved at him, smiling ingratiatingly. He just neglected me and went in. I gave my appointment slip to the sister who kept peeking out of the half-open door, calling patients' names. She went in and came back and asked me to wait.  My waiting continued till 1 pm, when I and one other person were left in the hall.   Soon that person was called in, and I was alone.

 Finally, around 1:15 I was called in. The doctor didn’t ask me to sit and just snatched the medical report file from me without looking at me. He flipped through the reports as if he were reading a laptop’s operator’s manual. He closed and dropped the file on the table and told me in a casual tone,

 “I don’t think you have any problems.  But there is a slight variation in your heartbeat.  (He said a clinical term that I don’t remember now.) Many people are born with a ‘system’ like this.”

 “Thank you so much, Doctor. I am glad that I have no serious ailments,” I interrupted.

 “Don’t rejoice too much. I will prescribe two tablets for you, which you should take every day to block any future complications.  You will get this in this hospital’s pharmacy alone.”

 Like a culprit standing before a judge, I accepted all his suggestions. I meekly said,

 “Thanks, Doctor. I will do as suggested by you.”

 Before handing over the prescription to me came his other command:

“Other than taking these medicines, you need to come for a checkup every three months.”

 “Ok, Doctor. I will do as you say,” I said, and laughing inside, I came out.

The news reporters of the TV channel I worked with were waiting anxiously outside to hear what the doctor said. I was the person who suggested this ‘sting,’ and by telecasting the news, the channel is going to get a high viewer ranking. But I can no longer visit the two hospitals!