Detachment
If anyone had thought to ask me two weeks ago, I would have told them that the saddest words in the English language are "empty hotel room." I enjoy being Carmen San Diego--the corporate overlords who sent me out to Washington DC to give a talk at a think tank were pleased enough that they would like me to put on a repeat performance in January--
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Because time is of the essence in retinal detachments, I did seriously consider doing the surgery in Toronto, where doctors would have done it the next day. This lasted right up until I came to the hospital for my 9 am appointment and the woman behind the registration desk demanded $300 (Canadian) in cash before I could see the doctor for my consultation. When I protested that I did not have $300 in cash on my person because no one told me in advance that this would be necessary, she testily informed me that no money meant no appointment. This is not (and I quote), an emergency.
I may have played into American stereotypes and been somewhat rude when I informed her that she was holding in her hands a full description of my case, which included the words EMERGENCY right across the top.
If I'd had the surgery in Toronto, it would have been somewhat simpler because they could have treated me before the detachment spread to my macula and began to affect my central vision. I also would probably have had to pay $15,000 up-front in cash, for which I may or may not have been compensated at a later date by my American insurance. Then I would have had to stay in Toronto for a week, laying face-down. Then I would have had to have someone fly to Toronto and drive me back to San Francisco, because the gas bubble they inject into my eye to help heal the detachment would have prohibited me from flying for the next 6-8 weeks.
The insurance-while-traveling problem has been brought up to my Mysterious Employer. Hopefully, everyone who is required to travel internationally for work will now be granted travel insurance. I am an object lesson.
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I'm kind of amazed that travel insurance is not standard operating procedure there, yeah -- I try not to cross the border without it, though of course I am extra-motivated by tales of American hospital bill horror. It's much easier than a giant suitcase of cash in any case.
Anyways, hopefully it will all work out and you can spend a relaxing face-down week contemplating psychokinetic octopus skirts.
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There is nothing is this world worse than a week of half-blind enforced face-down idleness. Nothing.
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I know it's too late now, but seriously, I would totally do this for you. Ok, actually, I'd probably just drive up to Toronto, drive you to SF, and then drive myself back down to Albuquerque, but in the end, this travel need could have been accommodated. So, uh, keep me in mind for your wild and crazy courier needs in the future. ;)
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Duly noted. It seems like quite a bit to ask of anyone.
As is the case with most difficult decisions, I was faced with a series of time/money/effort/risk/pain tradeoffs. I have gone a little higher on the risk and pain scale than I would have preferred, but that was largely due to factors beyond my control.
E has read this post and says it is largely a testament to how profoundly disconnected I am from my own physical and emotional state. She is probably right.
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See, I find this weird, because I like to think of myself as relatively self-aware. And then I remember J telling me to please stop being stoic, which I found ridiculous because I'd already broken down crying in front of him twice.
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Yeah, but I like you.
I mean, I wouldn't do that for you if it was just a whim, (well, unless I was unemployed, in which case, "roadtrip!") but "I'm having a serious medical emergency in which I might permanently lose vision in one eye" is pretty darn far from "whim" on the scale such things are measured along. Meaning thus yeah, I'm your huckleberry. :)
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