Yesterday I was taking care of some medical billing arising from my wife's recent rotator cuff surgery, and I came across a good example of medical billing weirdness. As part of the surgery prep, she had an electrocardiogram done. Turns out the clinic/hospital doing it had one bill for the EKG (about $174, network rate) and another $75 bill for the reading of the EKG by the doctor.
Really? Yes, I was plainly told by the clinic's billing department, two bills for one EKG. Since there is not much use in complaining to an administrator over the phone, I paid the patient portion after making sure the insurance paid their part. Of course, it seems our health care system could be much more efficient by streamlining bills and payments, though doing so is complicated by the legion of insurers, doctors, clinics, labs, and hospitals involved in providing even fairly routine care these days.
It's a far cry from the days when my father was a general practioner and surgeon (he practiced from the mid-1950s to the early 1980s--that's him in the pic at right as a young resident in the early '50s) in small town Illinois. I came across some of his patient bills from the early 1960s when I cleaned out his desk after my mother passed on. People paid him in cash for things like full-scale check-ups or even sewing up a laceration, which he did in his office if needed. Some of those bills were $10 or $12. His name was Moises Garcia Michel, M.D. He was born in 1918, and passed on in 1983, and did most of his medical career in St. Anne and Kankakee, Illinois.
By the time my Dad retired things had changed, but I remember he used to carry a black medical bag with him in his car, and bring it home in the evenings in case he needed to treat someone. It reminded me of the Doctor Moonlight Graham character which Burt Lancaster played so well in the movie Field of Dreams. Those days are long gone, I'm afraid, though our health care system should look to those days for some lessons in simplicity.