The Hospital Charged Me for a Dead Man’s Bills,This Time, I Refused to Pay

1: 1

My mother's fever wouldn't break, so on my boyfriend's recommendation I took her to the hospital where his old flame, Muriel Pruitt, worked.

But after a month in that hospital, she hadn't improved in the slightest, and then a nurse handed me a bill for $2.6 million.

Holding that impossible bill, I went to Muriel and challenged it.

She only looked down her nose at me and said, "Family members, please don't use your amateur opinions to question my professional judgment. Pay the bill quickly, before you miss the best window for treatment."

I said I wanted her transferred to another hospital. Muriel said, contemptuously, that I could do whatever I wanted.

But my boyfriend was right there to talk me out of it. "Just apologize to Dr. Pruitt already. Stop making a scene. Think about itwe've already spent all this money, and you don't want your mother to have some accident because of your nonsense, do you?"

So I swallowed my anger and apologized.

That same night, my mother's condition suddenly worsened, and they couldn't save her.

Grief-stricken, I tore the hospital apart.

Two days later, while I was sorting through her things at home, the hospital called again to demand payment.

The astronomical bill was one thing. But were they really going to keep charging for drugs given to a dead woman?

This time I didn't argue, didn't shout, didn't make a scene. I went straight to the hospital and paid.

And I kept the proofproof that they'd billed for medicine given to a corpse, that they'd padded the chargesthen I turned around and took my boyfriend, Muriel, and the whole hospital to court!

This time it wasn't only for my mother. It was to win justice for every victim they'd overbilled!

Watching my mother waste away under her illness cut me to the bone.

A month earlier, when her fever wouldn't break, I'd listened to my boyfriend and brought her to this hospital.

But even now the fever hadn't gone down, and the doctors couldn't even give a straight answer about what was wrong with her.

Several times I'd wanted to move her somewhere else, and every time my boyfriend talked me out of it.

I was still sitting there heartsick when a nurse walked over.

"Family member, this is the patient's bill for the past month. Please pay it immediately, or the hospital will stop administering medication."

I looked at her, confused.

"Didn't I already put down three hundred thousand as a deposit?"

The nurse shook her head.

"That three hundred thousand ran out long ago."

"You're in arrears now."

I was stunned.

"My mother's treatment cost that much?"

The nurse's face was thick with impatience.

"You're told to pay, so you pay. Why all the questions?"

I stared at her.

"Don't I even have the right to know what the charges are for?"

She curled her lip at me, disgusted.

"You're asking me? Who am I supposed to ask? I'm not the attending physician. Go ask the doctor about the details, go to billing if you want to check the account. I'm only here to notify you."

Her attitude was appalling.

She dropped the words and turned to leave.

On her way out the door, I heard her muttering under her breath.

"If you can't afford it, don't come to the hospital. Who do you think you're fooling."

I was so furious I could barely breathe.

Carrying that anger, I went to the billing department.

One look at the record, and there it wasthe staggering number in front of me.

Two million, six hundred and three thousand, fifty-two dollars.

I could hardly believe such a horrifying figure was real.

"My mother's only been here a month. How could the treatment cost this much?"

The clerk in billing smiled.

"Ma'am, all our charges are standard charges. Every item is itemized. If you have any questions, you're welcome to check it yourself, or ask the attending physician."

She smiled the whole time, and yet what she said was utterly evasive.

Translated into plain speech: you're asking me, so who am I supposed to ask? Don't come bothering me for nothing.

I knew there was no point arguing with her, so I took the bill, sat down alone in a corner, and went through it carefully.

It didn't take long to spot something off.

I took the bill straight to Muriel.

"Dr. Pruitt, my mother's bill heredo you know about this?"

Muriel sat at her desk, lifted her coffee, took an unhurried little sip, and only then spoke slowly.

"Augusta Henson, what exactly do you mean?"

I said it plainly.

"I mean these charges aren't reasonable."

Muriel asked, calm and unhurried.

"You know medicine?"

I shook my head.

"I don't, no. But there are obvious mistakes on this bill."

"Look herethis acid, this amine, whatever they are. The doses are clearly way over the limit."

"I did a quick calculation. Every day you'd be pumping over two hundred pounds of fluid into my mother."

"Is that even possible?"

"That's twice my mother's own body weight!"

"Isn't that absurd?"

2: 2

Muriel Pruitt met my questions with a contemptuous little smile.

"Augusta, you really are ignorant, and it's laughable. More medication doesn't mean all of it gets infused into the patient."

"Your mother's condition is special. A lot of those drugs are used for dialysis, not the way you imagine, all going into an IV drip."

"You don't understand any of this. Please stop using your amateur guesswork to question our expertise."

Her cold, dismissive smirk only made the knot in my chest tighten.

I said, unwilling to let it go,

"Fine, say I'm overthinking that part. But what about all these tests?"

"I did the math. Every day you're running some blood gas test on my mother, X-rays, all kinds of scans, all kinds of checks."

"A dozen, twenty tests a day. Is that reasonable?"

"Do you really need to put a patient through this over and over, testing and retesting, again and again?"

Muriel's face went cold.

This time she didn't answer me head-on. She just said, flat and indifferent,

"Augusta, I only agreed to take a patient like your mother as a favor to Leigh Gilbert. Don't go looking for trouble!"

Looking for trouble?

Questioning her to her face was already me being polite.

Take all those tests, for instance. I'd worked it out. Each one takes about half an hour.

Which meant Muriel would have to do nothing else all day, spend her entire shift at the hospital running test after test, without even time to eat.

No leisure left over for the coffee she was drinking now.

It made no sense at all.

"If there's nothing else, please leave." Muriel's irritated voice cut in.

I looked at her and said,

"I'm not finished, and you're already rushing to throw me out?"

"As the patient's family, don't I even have that much right?"

"I'm not a doctor, sure, but this is basic common sense. You don't need a medical degree for this, do you?"

Muriel's face was full of impatience.

"What else? Ask, quickly!"

I pointed at the duplicate medications listed on the bill.

"Set everything else aside. What's the story with these repeated drugs, the same medication given over and over?"

"Surely you're not treating these drugs like meals? Feeding them to her again and again?"

"Or crushing them up for a bath? For dialysis?"

Slam!

Muriel brought her hand down hard on the desk and shot up from her chair, furious.

"Patient's family, I'll say it one more time. Please stop making a scene!"

"And stop using your amateur guesswork to question my expertise."

"What you should be doing right now is paying, before you miss the best window for treatment."

I watched her, out of answers.

She couldn't even be bothered to throw professional jargon at me to keep the con going.

A cold went through me.

There was no doubt about it. I was being fleeced, a fat sheep for the slaughter.

The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I said coldly,

"This bill is in dispute. I won't be paying it, and I'm transferring my mother out right now!"

"Transfer out?"

Muriel sneered. "You think a case like your mother's can just be transferred whenever you feel like it?"

"You think any other hospital would take a patient like that?"

"If it weren't for Leigh Gilbert, your mother wouldn't even have qualified to come to our hospital!"

That was that.

I had nothing left to say.

I gave Muriel one long look.

Then I turned and walked out of her office.

After that I threw myself into it, calling around, reaching out to other hospitals.

It took a few hours.

Just as I'd finally lined up a hospital.

My boyfriend, Leigh Gilbert, came rushing into the hospital.

The first thing out of his mouth wasn't concern for me, or for my mother. It was a complaint aimed straight at me.

"Augusta, what are you making a fuss about?"

"Muriel told me you went after her today, accusing her of overcharging? And that you want to file a complaint against her?"

"Isn't this just you causing trouble?"

"Go apologize to Muriel, right now!"

3: 3

"You want me to apologize to her?"

I almost thought I'd misheard, staring at Leigh in disbelief.

Leigh nodded, dead serious.

"Of course you apologize. She's dosing your mom that way for a reason. You're not a doctor, you don't understand any of this. Stop making trouble for her, all right?"

"And Muriel's already worn out from work all day. You've got the nerve to march in and question her? Why are you being so difficult?"

I looked at him and asked.

"I'm making trouble for her? I'm the one being difficult?"

"Leigh, whose side are you actually on here?"

"Do you even hear yourself right now!"

His eyes flicked away from mine.

He stepped closer, lowered his voice, and softened it.

"Vivi, I got ahead of myself. That was wrong of me."

"Let's not argue about who's right and who's wrong."

"What matters right now is your mother's condition. Even if you won't think of yourself, you have to think of your mom, don't you?"

"You've already spent this much money,"

"and if you give up now, or worse, transfer hospitals, what happens if something goes wrong in the middle of it?"

It struck me as absurd.

"So what you're saying is, Muriel is the best doctor in the whole city, and without her no one else can treat my mother?"

Leigh frowned.

"You're just being contrary now, aren't you?"

"Of course Muriel doesn't stand for every doctor in the city."

"But there's nothing to fault about her skill. Otherwise I never would have referred you to this hospital and to her."

"And even if you don't understand medicine, don't you have any common sense?"

"A doctor needs to know the patient's condition at every moment to prescribe the right treatment and treat them properly."

"That has very little to do with how good the doctor is."

I fell silent.

I had to admit it. What he'd just said wasn't wrong.

Seeing me go quiet, Leigh pressed on.

"You've already spent this much. If you transfer now, not only is all that money wasted, but another doctor won't know your mother's condition either."

"You don't want your mom to end up in danger because of your outburst, do you?"

That line hit the fear buried deepest in me.

I lowered my head and asked.

"Then what do you think I should do?"

A smile touched the corner of Leigh's mouth.

"Good girl. Go apologize to Dr. Pruitt right now, then go pay the bill."

I looked at him.

"You really want me to go apologize?"

Leigh took my hand, gentle again.

"What matters most right now is whether your mom gets better, not the money. And what's your personal pride worth next to that?"

Looking at him, the man in front of me felt like a stranger.

Was he really my boyfriend?

Or did he look more like Muriel's?

Before I could hesitate, he was already pulling me to Muriel's office and pushing me inside.

"Muriel, don't take it to heart. I've brought Augusta to apologize to you."

He didn't give me a second to think, just shoved me a step forward.

"Well? Apologize."

It sat wrong with me.

But I thought of my mother, and lowered my head.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Pruitt. I was too anxious."

Muriel swept a contemptuous glance over me.

"Since you know you were wrong, go pay the bill."

Her attitude left me sick to my stomach.

But Leigh urged me on.

"Did you hear her? Go pay, and no more of this nonsense."

I nodded, and as I turned to leave, I saw Leigh was still standing in the office.

Muriel looked at me coldly.

Leigh turned back and said,

"You go pay. I need to talk to Muriel about something. Close the door on your way out."

I gave the two of them a long look, then left.

I paid at the billing department, and the tightness in my chest only grew worse.

I went to the ward.

When Mom saw me, she said,

"Vivi, take me home."

I took her hand.

"Mom, this is the critical stage of your treatment. How can we go home now?"

She shook her head.

"I know my own illness, sweetheart. Stop treating it. No amount of money is going to help."

"You're still young. You have so many things you'll need money for. Don't waste any more of it on me."

The tears came before I could stop them, and I held her.

"Mom, don't talk like that. You have to work with the doctors. You'll get better. You will."

I held her like that until she fell asleep.

And I made up my mind. No matter how much it cost me, no matter how much I had to swallow, I would endure it.

That night, I stepped out to get something to eat, and it was right then that the hospital called to say my mother had suddenly taken a turn for the worse and been rushed into the ICU.

4: 4

I didn't care that my mother had been having stomach trouble all day; I rushed straight to the hospital.

But by the time I got back.

The doctors were already coming out of the resuscitation room.

When she saw me, Muriel said coldly:

"We're sorry, ma'am. We did everything we could."

"What did you say!"

The whole world caved in.

Muriel looked at me and said, without a shred of feeling:

"You should start preparing for the funeral."

She dropped that and walked off.

There was no way I was letting her go.

I ran after her and grabbed her wrist:

"Dr. Pruitt, my mother wasn't this bad when she came in. It's only been a month. How is she gone?"

"Answer me. Answer me!"

I couldn't stop myself. My hand cracked across Muriel's face.

Nurses came running and pulled me back.

Everything went black in front of me, and I fainted.

Right before my eyes closed, I dimly heard Muriel's cold, mocking voice:

"This is absurd. If every patient's family blamed the doctor for everything like this, how are any of us supposed to do our jobs?"

When I came to again.

Leigh was sitting beside me:

"Life and death can't be fought. Let your mother rest in peace. Bury her soon."

"Get out!"

I shoved Leigh away.

His brow furrowed:

"Augusta, I know you're hurting, but this is something no one can stop. You have to learn to face reality!"

I couldn't hold it in anymore and screamed at him:

"Reality is, you recommended this hospital to me, and on top of the outrageous bills, they killed my mother!"

Leigh's eyes went cold:

"You've lost your mind. I'll come back when you've calmed down."

He turned and left.

I noticed the bracelet he'd given me on my wrist, took it off, meaning to give it back.

I chased him out of the room.

I was about to turn the corner in the hallway when I heard Muriel and Leigh's voices:

"How's she doing?"

"Very unstable."

"She's a lunatic. Her mother dying has nothing to do with me, and she still slapped me."

"Don't be upset, Muriel. When you're off work, let me take you to dinner."

I listened to how tender Leigh's voice got with Muriel.

My heart skipped a beat.

I couldn't take another second. I burst out, yanked off the bracelet, and hurled it hard into Leigh's face, then turned and walked away.

Three days later.

I was still at home handling my mother's funeral.

My relatives came up one by one to comfort me, telling me not to grieve too much.

That was when the call came from the hospital billing department:

"Hello, is this Ms. Henson?"

I asked:

"What is it?"

The voice on the other end said:

"Your mother's treatment fees are due. To avoid affecting her ongoing treatment, would it be convenient for you to come to the hospital and pay now?"

I froze:

"Youwhat did you say? My mother's treatment fees? Didn't I already pay?"

The other side said:

"You paid three days ago. Over the three days since, the outstanding balance comes to a hundred sixty-three thousand four hundred fifty-two dollars. Would it be convenient for you to come pay now?"

"What!"

I couldn't hold back anymore.

Every humiliation before this, I'd swallowed for my mother's sake.

But my mother had been dead for three days!

Were they still treating a dead woman?

Nobody bullies people like this!

This was too far.

I slammed my fist hard against the floor.

The people around me asked what was wrong.

I looked up at my mother's photo on the funeral altar, and inside I went calm instead.

Fine.

So they prey on honest people.

So they run drug treatments on a corpse.

Everything before, maybe the hospital and Muriel could fool me by saying I didn't understand. Am I not going to understand this time either?

In that case, I'll pay.

I was still in my mourning clothes, and I didn't bother taking them off.

I went straight to the hospital to pay just like that.

The moment I finished paying, Leigh showed up at the hospital and called out in irritation:

"Augusta, are you here to give Muriel trouble again?"

"Didn't I tell you? Muriel did everything she could. There's no point coming after her!"

I watched him, then held up the receipt I'd just paid, showing it to Leigh and to everyone lined up to pay around us.

I said in a loud voice:

"Of course I believe Dr. Pruitt did everything she could."

"After all, my mother has been dead for three days, and she's still running tens of thousands of dollars in drug treatments on her every single day!"

"Now, I'm going to take this proof to the hospital director, and I'm going to take it to the law, and to everyone in this whole society, and ask them exactly how a doctor treats a dead woman!"