The Steakhouse Doctor

Last week, we went to Outback Steakhouse for supper. The meal was excellent, and the service superb. I paid the bill and we went on our way. Naturally, a week later I received a bill from the cook for preparing the food, and a separate bill from U.S. Food for supplying the deceased cattle to the restaurant. And, of course, a bill from the local winery for the fermented grapes we consumed.

Sounds reasonable, right?  Of course not! Imagine if that was how businesses really operated.

Of course, when I do go out to eat, I pay the restaurant for my food. I don't later get bills from the cook, the waiters, or the restaurant's food suppliers.

When I take my car into the shop for a repair, I pay the shop. I do not get separate bills from the mechanic, the oil company, or the company who provides the testign equipment to the shop.

But it seems that the medical profession DOES operate that way. When I go see a doctor, I expect to pay for his services. But I don't expect to get bills from umpteen other people that I have never heard of, who apparently have provided one service or other so that the doctor can do the job that I paid him to do.

Every other business in the country pays their own suppliers and sub-contractors. They build those costs into the prices that they charge us. This gives businesss an incentive to operate wisely and efficiently. If they use substandard parts or faily to employ the help they need, their business suffers, and they may well fold. On the other hand, they don't spend money willy-nilly just because it IS their money. Successful businesses understand the trade off between frugality and quality. But doctor's have no such incentive. Every time that they order a test or prescribe a medicine, it has no effect on their bottom line since they aren't paying for it.  WE are.  And not only do we not have a choice, most times we are not even told about the charges until after the fact.  And that's not right.

Of course, we all know the arguments the medical profession uses to support this practice:

The doctor's only concern should be your health, and by removing the financial costs from the doctor's pocketbook, we remove any financial biases from the doctor's opinion.  Horse Hockey!   Isn't the first question they ask you when you arrive about your insurance coverage? 

And since everyone's health is different, the doctor really doesn't know the cost ahead of time, and cannot quote a price.  More Poppycock! The doctor is in a far better posistion to make these estimates than we are. It would not be unreasonable for a dotcor to revise his estimate as the process goes on. Car repair shops do it all the time.

I am not about to propose that I know the solution to our health care crisis.  But I think that the first step should be to put at least some of the responsibility for the costs of health care into those individuals who make the decisions to incur those costs.  Or am I crazy?

Waste not; Want Not: The Leftover Life Cycle

We all remember being told not to waste food because there are hungry children in (insert third-world country here).  My childhood was no different, and to this day, I never throw away perfectly good food. But it's more than that. I can't through away good food.  It has to be saved for later.

So begins the lefover life cycle.

While I can eat leftovers for subsequent meals, and sub-subsequent meals ad nauseum, other members of my household (who shall remain nameless to preserve world peace) are not quite so tolerant.

As a result, many, if not most, leftovers do not get eaten right away. They tend to sit in the refrigerator machine until they are no longer fit for human consumption. So, after giving them an extra day or two to ensure their foulness, I throw them away.

The funny thing here is that most of the time, when I first put the food into the refrigerator machine, I know it will never be eaten. But the food must go through its life cycle, and expire in its dark, chilled world next to other not-so-lucky remnants of meals past.  Only after the resemblance to its original form is a vague recollection at best am I able to give the food its proper burial in the circular cemetary. (Or, if it's lucky, a burial at sea after a ride in the twister.)

Call me OCD if you will, but I am not alone.

What's in your refrigerator?

Watching Scotty Grow

I never thought I wanted kids until just a few years ago. On December 29, 2010, little Tyler Scott came into my life!  Now, I can't imagine my life without Tyler (and his soon-to-be brother or sister).  The past 7 months have been the happiest of my life.

Every morning Tyler wakes up around 7, and I can hear him talking to himself.  When I walk into his room and peek into his crib, he looks up at me and smiles the biggest smile, and my heart just melts. We have our little routine in the morning where we open the blinds, fix breakfast, and watch a little TV, and I wouldn't miss it for the world.

Every day is an adventure, not only for him but for me as well. People used to tell me about the little accomplishments their kids made, and I thought, "Yeah, yeah, big deal.  That's nice."  Now, I know different. Three weeks ago, he started to get up on all fours, but would not move. Then he could move one arm forward. Then rocked back and forth. Then he would fall forward and get up, just a little bit ahead of where he fell. The he did his own little scooting. Not really crawling, but getting to where he wanted to be in a roundabout way. Now he goes where he wants, and is getting faster every day,

Last week he started to try to pull himself up to a standing position, and now he does it all the time. About an hour ago, we saw him stand up without support for the first time, albeit for just a second or two. I can't wait to see what he does tommorrow!

As the song goes, I love just sitting there and watching him grow!