Knock on wood

(no innuendo intended)

Thank goodness Mark is hardly ever sick.  Maybe two days a year he gets a cold.  Or allergies.  Or hives.  But other than that, we spend virtually nothing on his medical care other than a yearly physical.

And then there's me.  We just got done paying about $2600 in copay for my March hospital visit.  We should be on the 100% paid plan now.  When I had chemo, all it took was one treatment to pay our out of pocket and copay, so I was 100% paid for that year.  Which was nice, since my surgery and hospitalization that year, with two different hospitals, came to over $200,000.  And then there are my medical supplies.

Catheters, gauze to cover stoma, bandages that don't rip my skin off to cover my stoma are about $10 per bandage.  Per day.  If not twice a day.  Antibiotic soap that I have to use before and after catheterizing.  Tape that doesn't rip my skin off to cover the bandage that doesn't rip my skin off...that covers the gauze under the bandage that swallowed the fly perhaps he'll die.

Meds....oh the meds.  The meds for my diabetes.  The meds for my hypothyroidism.  The meds for my high blood pressure.  The meds for my OCD and PTSD and anxiety.  The herbal and supplements I take.  D-Mannose and Cranberry to hopefully avoid UTIs.  Biotin to get my hair back into shape after chemo.  Vitamins.

So then there are the Three Stooges and their Veterinary care.  Normally it's not too bad, once a year kind of things, just like Mark.  But Mrs., our 13 year old black Pug, has decided that she has an appetite for....well, to put it bluntly, Mrs. likes eating shit.  We had her in the Vet's office a few weeks ago, where they tested and found that she was not only eating her own shit, but also quite a bit of rabbit shit.  One hundred dollar later, we had medicine for her.  Cleared her up right away, no more pooping in the house, no more unbelievable gas.  And we walk her on leash now instead of putting her on a tie out, so she cannot get near the shit.

Medicine stopped on Saturday.  Today when Mark came home from work, Mrs. had pooped in the kitchen.  And then she got gassy.  And now she just pooped in the kitchen again.  Called the vet, waiting for response.  Hoping she just didn't have enough medicine.  Another day, another $100 bill.

We're an expensive bunch!