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One thing in my missive from the other day that I promised an explanation of was this line:
During the week, I must dress within the bounds of the "profession" at almost all times. One of the key breakdowns within my first professional partnership, 20 years ago, was over just such an issue.
That's something I hadn't thought much about in ages, and while the clothes didn't make the man in the dispute, they certainly went a long way toward ending it.
I'd been with my original law firm for almost 10 years, a partner for the last several. (A fourth guy was also brought into the partnership after I was, but he and I were not "equity"- we just shared in the profits and the liabilities.) After Emily was born, I began to see, and feel, resistance from the two "equity" partners about the way I was mixing my professional and family lives. They were not happy having a crying baby come in with me on Saturday mornings (never mind EVER thinking of such a thing during the week). They did not like it when I was late arriving or early leaving on account of daycare pickup requirements. In short, that was women's work- and both of their wives had, by then, birthed two babies and done it from the comfort of their own homes, either not working at all (in the older partner's case) or by working much more limited school-day hours (in the other's). They were totally uncomfortable with Eleanor being an equal within our own household if it had any effect on them.
Which, one not-so-fine day, it did.
----
At the time, Eleanor was working in customer service, with a sales component, for a regional home security company. These were, as now, a mishmash of national outfits like ADT, regional like hers then was, and local like XYZ was. XYZ happened to be a client of ours, and had the systems at the big boy's home.
I honestly don't remember if the other partner had an XYZ system or not, but eventually he reached out to Eleanor to do a consult on installing or upgrading one at his home. She worked hard on it, made several visits, did sketches and quoted the job. It wouldn't have made or broken her year, but it would've been a nice affirmation of what she did from someone not generally known for respecting it.
And, in the end, he didn't. He basically used her as what negotiation lawyers call a "stalking horse;" he took her work to his contact at XYZ and used it to get the same work (supposedly) at a better (or, hey, maybe the same) price. Eleanor was crushed. This was before she'd gotten her depression under control (and long before I did so with mine), and I remember a horrid night of her crying and being incredibly upset about being used in this way. It was the last all-nighter I can ever recall pulling, as I spent the night trying to talk to her, console her, try to find a way out of the mess that this stupidity had gotten us into.
By the time work rolled around, I hadn't changed out of the jeans and t-shirt I'd gotten into after getting home with the bad news the night before, and I was in no shape to get dressed up for these idiots now- so I went in as is, in hopes of getting something that would save the situation.
The conversations with the stalking-horse-stalker aren't what I remember much of (Eleanor didn't remember the incident at all when I brought it up last night); I know he was condescending about her feelings about it, figured that a gift certificate to a nice restaurant would have been adequate compensation for her time and trouble, and why was I making such a big deal about it?
None of this had anything to do with our other, older, partner, so I had nothing to say about it. But I remember him being positively freaked out that I had come into the office in (and this may be the only time I'd heard this word used in the 20 years before or since) "dunagrees."
How dare you?, was the essence of that message.
I knew at that moment that I would not, could not, finish out the rest of my professional life under the same roof as these two, and that set the process in motion that, in May of 1994, brought us here to Buffalo. I'll probably add some posts about that over the next few weeks about how that played out and how, despite some things being sacrificed, that change was probably the best one I ever could have made for how our lives turned out since then.
Finally, the coda: although Eleanor didn't remember That Night, or the Following Day, she remembered something that I didn't and still don't: that years later, I wound up having lunch with the partner whose home security decision started this whole debacle. It must have been early oughts, because Eleanor had begun her landscape lighting business by then. Not only was he (as she recalls me telling it) incredibly impressed with how she was able to do all that work, and on her own yet; he was actually thinking of having similar stuff done around his own house.
I don't recall if he tried to get her to bid on the job. That would have been immensely amusing.
So I guess it's okay with them to be a lawyer's wife and not act like one, as long as it's not one of their lawyers. And that sentence, as much as any above, sums up why I am, and am happy to be, here, and not there.
Apr. 5th, 2014
Continuing my recent tradition of putting all of my wife's sensitive medical information out on the Internet: here. The first of the bills for her surgeries in February and March:
Bottom line's not bad; in fact, it's almost exactly what I expected it would be. But look at how the screws get turned on the uninsured.
Actually, you can't tell from this bill what, exactly, it's for, so I will tell you: it is not for her surgeon, nor for her anaesthesia. Those are still coming (and should be covered because this bill covers her entire 2014 out-of-pocket maximum). It is just for the "ambulatory surgery center," so, it's about two hours of rent- of a prep room, and an operating table, and some monitors, and a recovery room or two, and some wear and tear on some gurneys and wheelchairs that took her from one to the next to the next.
All of that? Over $3,000 an hour if you're uninsured. Nothing diagnosed, no admission, no treatment beyond exactly what the surgeon had you go there to do, and for which you are going to pay him or her separately.
Now if you are insured, watch those ugly dollars melt away before your eyes, as they shave more than 80 percent off the bill just because you have a card in your wallet. You and the owner of the card then split the other 20. But what a kick in the pants to those who can't, or won't, or don't. It's comparable to the bill Eleanor got when she burned her hands a few years ago and had to go to the ER to get fixed up. At least they don't add a specific line item for "uninsured patient surcharge" the way ECMC does.
What would it be on my higher-deductible plan? No idea. Maybe, not only would the out-of-pocket be more, but the total reduction of the bill might be less. There's no way to know until you incur the charge. And that's where you see the fallacy of the Big Repugnicant Talking Point about "replacing" Obamacare with "more and bigger health savings accounts." Because even for people who can afford to fund them, as we, barely, have been when we've had them? Just try to "shop around" to get the best price for your medical procedures. Hospitals have those lists; they're known as "chargemasters" and they're what get you stuck with hundred-dollar charges for an IV fluid bag that costs less than a buck, and $500 for a single stitch. But in most places, those lists are considered private, proprietary and confidential and the hospital won't tell you in advance what's on them, because, capitalism. One study found that hospitals were more than happy to tell you their comparative prices for valet parking but not a thing about what things cost once you got inside.
If you complain about these outrageousnesses- and people have been- the horsepital executives will tell you they're meaningless. They're merely a "starting point" for negotiating with insurers- comparable, if you will, to the exhorbitant rates that hoteliers are legally obligated to post inside your room door which are never what anybody actually pays. But the hotel doesn't put those "rack rates" on your bill unless you're actually dumb enough to pay that amount, and you'd better believe that somebody, somewhere, IS paying those "chargemaster" prices just because nobody told them not to.
Eventually, and regardless of whether the Obamacare tide turns or keeps coming in, this aspect of Big Health may well be the straw that breaks the back of this messed-up system. And just wait until you see the six bills you'll get for THAT surgery:P
Bottom line's not bad; in fact, it's almost exactly what I expected it would be. But look at how the screws get turned on the uninsured.
Actually, you can't tell from this bill what, exactly, it's for, so I will tell you: it is not for her surgeon, nor for her anaesthesia. Those are still coming (and should be covered because this bill covers her entire 2014 out-of-pocket maximum). It is just for the "ambulatory surgery center," so, it's about two hours of rent- of a prep room, and an operating table, and some monitors, and a recovery room or two, and some wear and tear on some gurneys and wheelchairs that took her from one to the next to the next.
All of that? Over $3,000 an hour if you're uninsured. Nothing diagnosed, no admission, no treatment beyond exactly what the surgeon had you go there to do, and for which you are going to pay him or her separately.
Now if you are insured, watch those ugly dollars melt away before your eyes, as they shave more than 80 percent off the bill just because you have a card in your wallet. You and the owner of the card then split the other 20. But what a kick in the pants to those who can't, or won't, or don't. It's comparable to the bill Eleanor got when she burned her hands a few years ago and had to go to the ER to get fixed up. At least they don't add a specific line item for "uninsured patient surcharge" the way ECMC does.
What would it be on my higher-deductible plan? No idea. Maybe, not only would the out-of-pocket be more, but the total reduction of the bill might be less. There's no way to know until you incur the charge. And that's where you see the fallacy of the Big Repugnicant Talking Point about "replacing" Obamacare with "more and bigger health savings accounts." Because even for people who can afford to fund them, as we, barely, have been when we've had them? Just try to "shop around" to get the best price for your medical procedures. Hospitals have those lists; they're known as "chargemasters" and they're what get you stuck with hundred-dollar charges for an IV fluid bag that costs less than a buck, and $500 for a single stitch. But in most places, those lists are considered private, proprietary and confidential and the hospital won't tell you in advance what's on them, because, capitalism. One study found that hospitals were more than happy to tell you their comparative prices for valet parking but not a thing about what things cost once you got inside.
If you complain about these outrageousnesses- and people have been- the horsepital executives will tell you they're meaningless. They're merely a "starting point" for negotiating with insurers- comparable, if you will, to the exhorbitant rates that hoteliers are legally obligated to post inside your room door which are never what anybody actually pays. But the hotel doesn't put those "rack rates" on your bill unless you're actually dumb enough to pay that amount, and you'd better believe that somebody, somewhere, IS paying those "chargemaster" prices just because nobody told them not to.
Eventually, and regardless of whether the Obamacare tide turns or keeps coming in, this aspect of Big Health may well be the straw that breaks the back of this messed-up system. And just wait until you see the six bills you'll get for THAT surgery:P