August 25th, 2004

25 Aug 2004, by

Quick Irony

There’s something disturbing about paying doctor bills for a dead person. I know it’s probably a fairly common experience, but I can’t help looking at all those charges for cat scans and lab work and thinking to myself, “They didn’t work. They didn’t help. Why am I paying for this?” It’s not that I begrudge the doctors and hospitals their money. I understand how the system works and that all these things need to be paid for whether they help or not. That is, my brain understands it. My heart not so much.

So today, looking over itemized bills with dates and charges for the battery of things we did for Simone in what we never suspected would be a vain effort to keep her alive, I am drawn back to those rooms and those times. I remember, so vividly, when they took her from us in the emergency room to weigh her. I was eager to find out her weight, because she hadn’t been weighed since her first pediatrician appointment over a month before. Even with all the nervousness about her condition and about how she wasn’t eating, I remember an intense burst of joy when they reported she weighed over 10 pounds. She’s strong, I thought, she’s growing, she’s gaining weight. Everything’s going to be ok.

It’s the sort of irony one would really rather live without.

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