Let me start this post with a thank-you to everyone who called, emailed and sent me a text after reading my post from Saturday. I can’t tell you how much your support and love meant to me during a very difficult weekend. And I’m happy to report that this morning I’m feeling so much better — the worst of the chemo side effects and the allergy stuff are behind me now and I’m up to about 90% capacity. I have two weeks to fully recover, then I’ll go in for round three of chemo.

Speaking of chemo and cancer treatment, I wanted to share something with you that I’ve learned through this process: It’s FREAKING EXPENSIVE. No wonder the insurance companies want to get rid of the pre-existing condition waiver and go back to the bad old days before the ACA.

Here’s an example: I am finally seeing the bills for my Jan. 8 hospitalization coming in. Remember, I had a hysterectomy (surgery, pathology, etc.) and two nights in the hospital. Total bill: $30,000. On the positive side, between that and the two CAT scans in early January, I pretty much blew through my annual deductible and my out-of-pocket maximum. So the bills that are coming in now are in the $300 – $1,000 range, which reflect the “co-insurance” limit in my plan.

But I still have no idea how much the chemo costs. Before my first chemo session, I met with the GHS Cancer Center’s “financial counselor” who had gotten all my pre-approvals. At the time, she told me that the “list price” for my chemo was $7,500 per treatment, but I would “only” be responsible for $2,200 of that. But that was before the deductible, etc., were applied. So she said, don’t worry, we’ll get an updated figure for your next treatment.

Last week, my meeting with the financial counselor was a bit different; since I had the issue with a dangerously low white cell count, the doctor decided to treat me proactively and had prescribed the Neulasta patch, which helps grow white cells. Here’ the catch — the list price for the Neulasta patch is…wait for it…$10,000. That’s PER TREATMENT. And since the original plan was to do five more rounds of chemo, that’s a total of $50,000.

After I almost passed out, the financial counselor told me that while she didn’t know how much would be covered, my insurance would cover some of that. In addition, she enrolled me in a program that Neulasta offers that provides up to $10,000 per year to help with co-pays. So there’s that.

I guess if I were really in financial difficulties I could go back to Plan A and do the three days of Zarxio shots instead of the Neulasta. But since I have NO IDEA how much those shots cost, and won’t until I start getting bills, I really can’t make an informed decision about the best course of action.

And this is the absolute crux of the healthcare issue today. Sure, it’s all very well and good for Paul Ryan and Mitch McConnell to blabber about how the U.S. healthcare system is the best in the world, and how their vision is to give patients the opportunity to “shop around,” but the system isn’t set up that way.

When I built my house, I was given a long list of options to chose from — a list that included very specific prices for each option. So I could decide if it was worth having the builder install a ceiling fan for $250 or just the wiring and bracket for $80. I had time to look at the options at a design center, and determine where I wanted to spend my money. Then, once I had made my selections, I had a detailed invoice of all the options I selected, along with a list of “base” items, so I knew EXACTLY how much everything would cost.

Healthcare isn’t like that. You have no idea how much the blood tests, doctor consulations, CT scans, anesthesiologists, pathologists, pain meds, syringes, tubing, etc., cost before you are admitted to the hospital. And even if you decide not to take the pain meds, you are still charged for a “pain management consultation” on your bill…which you don’t see for at least four weeks following your surgery. You have no control, no opportunity. You are completely at the mercy of the healthcare provider and the insurance company.

The system is seriously fucked up. And it is just getting worse. As someone who has worked extremely hard to get control of her diabetes by taking it VERY seriously and making significant lifestyle changes, I already have a target on my back. And now, as a cancer survivor, I see little chance that I’ll be able to get any kind of insurance if the ACA is completely dismantled.

God forbid I get into a situation that I get behind on these payments. I could lose everything I worked so hard for all my life. And that’s not the “greatest healthcare system in the world” in my books.