HACKPITALS II

6/10/2020

89-year-old Ted Avian entered the Black Cross Blue Shield medical facility located on a high bluff overlooking Lake Gold Bullion in the prestigious part of the city. As he entered the magnificent structure containing 4 Walking Palm Trees surrounded by pots of the rarest Brazilian flower, the Worsleya, or Empress of Brazil, even crusty, cantankerous Ted was in awe. Mr. Avian was immediately picked up by the hospital’s orderly wearing a tux with tails. Seated in a gold-plated wheelchair with ‘spinner’ wheels and a Shell Cordovan leather seat, Ted was pushed over to the admissions counter and the ‘certification’ process began. Using high tech hardware to install all of Ted’s most personal information on a chip, it was then covertly inserted on to his sternum. Now ‘tagged’, Ted was taken to his accommodations, his wheelchair removed, and the room scanners started the billing clocks Wi-Fied to his chip. Unknown to Ted, he came here to get better, but some lucrative financial extraction techniques needed to take place first. As soon as Mr. Avian sat his ass on his bed, the clock started running to the tune of about 4 grand per day. A barrage of tests has been scheduled according to the whims of physicians that Ted will never meet. After that, a pharmacy of drugs will magically appear on his daily menu with the cheapest one being an 81 mg. aspirin for 5 bucks a pop. An exotic could send the drug bill up the flagpole at $120 a pill. Within a week, Ted feels worse because his caring hackpital has poisoned him. No worries, the staff will give him a $1200 ambulance ride over to another wing 550 feet away, where they start his hospice billing. As Ted’s organs start to shut down from all the toxins now floating in his bloodstream, the hospice director starts the comfort kit. Consisting of Lorazepam and Morphine, this concoction will ebb away Ted’s 86 pound body weight and Alzheimer’s destroyed brain in a mere 5 days and $46,000 later. Thank God he didn’t suffer. 

One comment

  1. Geez, reading this makes my guts twist. At this moment my best friend is at a hospital exposing her built in port to another 3 hour infusion, after which she will be sent home with pills that contain a warning that you might see at the entrance to an atomic testing site somewhere in New Mexico.

    Like

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