That pesky $5K deductible is breaking the family bank
Lori Clinch
Are We There Yet?

We have a $5,000 deductible on our health insurance policy.That's right, a stinking $5,000 deductible. Therefore, stitches are on us, abrasions go on our tab, and any and all viral infections and appendectomies are our treat. It's enough to make our checkbook turn its head and cough.

That being said, any mother worth her salt would never let financial worries come between her child and his health. It just wouldn't be right.

Although, on the other hand, any woman with an ounce of experience might want to ask a few questions before running into the emergency room.

"Now, what exactly do you mean when you say that your knee hurts? Hmmm, hummm. OK, so when you say it locks up when you extend it, define for us, if you will, 'lock up.' Do you as a young man feel that perhaps you could go through life without extending your leg? Hmmm, hummm. Okay, so you can't run. Well, we're not really runners now, are we? After all, don't you think that running is a bit overrated? I mean, who really runs? It's not as if we're being chased by wild animals, now is it? I haven't gone for a run for the better part of a decade, and I'm living an enriched life. Yes, my knees are chubby, but they were chubby when I ran, so that's not important.

"What's important for us to know is if this is a pain that you feel you could live with? Okay, what if your father and I would consider making a cash deal as compensation for your suffering?"

We paid for the knee. We got him a lovely doctor, and although I doubt that he even knew he had a meniscus before this episode, we gave him the best meniscus repair that a high deductible and good dose of health insurance could buy.

With a lovely payment plan and a bajillion easy installments, we finished paying the surgery off just last month.

We then sailed through most of the month of May free of medical debt. Occasionally a child would walk through with a limp gait or puffy eyes, but thanks to hot wash cloths, ice packs and the benefits of Tylenol, we've cruised through a fine spell of time and had high hopes of finishing out the season debt-free.

Until last evening, that is.

"He seems fine," the mother of my child's close friend said over the phone in the calmest of voices. "It just hurts when he moves his wrist."

Perhaps a better mother would have rushed her darling into the emergency room, screaming in a panic as she demanded a Chem 7, a CBC and a UA stat. But I couldn't help but remember the last time I took this particular child in with what I thought might be a broken limb. Three hundred dollars and a sucker later, it turned out that all he had was a slight bruise and a strong need to get his older brother in trouble for roughhousing.

"Charlie, I love you," I said to his precious face. "But here's the deal: if your hand is hurt, then we want to fix it. Yet, make no mistake, X-raying a hand to see if it is broken will cost a lot of money. So let's think about this. Can you move your hand? Hmmm hmmm. Okay, well if you tried, could you move it this way? Can you hold a pencil? Oh well, school is out for the summer, who needs to hold a pencil anyway? Can you make a fist, grab a mop? Do you really need to grab a mop? So you can't ride a bike? Do you really need to ride a bike? We're not really bikers are we?"

To the doctor I said, "We have a….."

"Five-thousand-dollar deductible," he interrupted, "yes, I know."

"Oh, well then you won't … ."

"Do any unnecessary testing? No. As I've said many times before, it's not our policy to do unnecessary testing."

"What the heck is a $5,000 deductible?" my darling child asked as we headed back to the car. He was enjoying himself, a miracle cure that was brought on by a daylong sucker and a shirt full of brightly colored stickers.

"It's where we spend our money on medical expenses instead of going on a second honeymoon or enjoying the lovely trip that we could have taken to scenic Kenya."

"Oh well," he replied as he took a big lick out of his lollipop, "we're not really travelers anyway, are we?"

Lori Clinch is the mother of four sons and the author of the book "Are We There Yet?" You can reach her at www.loriclinch.com.