Medical bill hurt more than cut

I fell while sleepily stumbling around the bathroom Sunday morning, striking my head hard and landing on my butt in the bathtub. In the process, I apparently grabbed the shower curtain, taking down the entire rod --­ which broke in half. One end of the rod's plastic cover struck me under the left eye, leaving me with a deep cut -- and in even more of a daze.

After sitting in the floor for several minutes, then lying across my bed for a few minutes until I could comprehend what had happened, I realized I needed to be sewn up.

Off I went to Heritage Medical Center's emergency room, where I was treated well, and the only pain came the next day when I encountered the bill.

Total cost so far: $1,397.01. And that doesn't include having the stitches removed.

The woman who checked me in didn't seem too upset at the sight of a bedraggled guy coming in holding a bloody cloth absorbing more blood dripping down his face. I guess she's seen much worse and, besides, by that time I'd regained my sense of humor so I could joke about it a little.

Immediately the "local factor" kicked in: Since I'm a lifelong Shelbyville resident, everyone there knew me, and my parents, and my family history, and asked how they all were doing (much better than me at that point).

So someone slapped a plastic ID bracelet on my wrist -- great, now I won't forget who I am-- and spent, oh, 45 minutes or so, sitting on the edge of a bed waiting for someone to come sew me up. Meanwhile, I'm still shedding blood -- wait, maybe that's not the correct term. Losing blood. Yeah, that's more like it.

Finally physician's assistant Tonya Gager, master (or is it mistress?) of the stitch, arrived. She dropped off the tools she'd need to close the gap in my face, and left to work on another patient. So I spent a few minutes looking at the needle kit and reminding myself: The flu shot I got a few months ago was painless. The stitches I got when I ran into the gym wall in eighth grade didn't hurt. This won't hurt.

She's going to stick a needle smack into my cut! GASP!

Moments later, Tonya returned, with a smile, an assurance that I'd feel little pain, and the comment that she doesn't like needles or shots. Yeah, she can relate.

"Lie down," Tonya said, wielding the needle. "I'll deaden this area. It won't hurt very much but may sting a little." The macho man within me was speaking: "Don't scream out if it hurts." The pain feeler within was thinking: "Am I in for intense suffering?"

I didn't even feel most of the needle pricks, and just an occasional burning sensation as Tonya closed my expensive wound. Actually, I had my eyes closed and could have drifted off to sleep except for the fact I had someone running a needle through my face.

Seriously, she took great care to make sure I won't be left with a scar. "You can't get out in the sun this year," Tonya said. Not-so-good news for someone who's been in training to run 5Ks. Most of 'em are in the morning, though, and probably early enough not to do any damage. I'll run again as soon as my stitches are out.

She left and a nurse soon arrived, armed with another needle. "You'll need a tetanus shot," she said. Oh, no, I thought, wishing I could skip it but realizing that I hadn't had one since I stepped on a long nail as a child.

I never even felt the needle.

Even the clerk who insisted I make a deposit on my bill (in my haste to leave, I couldn't find my Blue Cross card) was friendly.

The sting came Monday, when I dropped by the emergency room WITH the card.

"How much did all this cost?" I asked. "It's $1,397.01," Sheila, in the admitting office, said.

Ouch! Maybe I should learn how to sew.

-- David Melson is the Times-Gazette's copy editor. He can be reached at 684-1200 ext. 229 or at dmelson@t-g.com.