Introduction

The "Hotel Melanoma" moniker is a metaphor for living with my particular brand of cancer. Except for those lucky few of us deemed "cured", all we cancer survivors are guests of one of the many, many branded hotels in the "Hotel Carcinoma" chain. We can check out any time we like, but we can never leave. Meanwhile, let's be livin' it up; and please support cancer education, prevention, and treatment research.



Tutu Brothers

Monday, January 24, 2011

Still Singing Those Preexisting Condition Blues

In the “gotcha” world of today’s health insurance market, I suspect anyone with a pulse has a “preexisting condition” in the eyes of insurance companies. Cancer survivors most certainly do. And since as long as we have a pulse many of us can’t ever leave our Hotel, this can be a challenge. With the Obamacare legislation under attack in the courts and Congress, there’s no certain end in sight for that challenge. Have you ever wondered whether, speaking strictly from the standpoint of insurability, surviving cancer was a wise move?

There’s a lovely grand piano in the atrium lobby of the “Name of Rich Oil Guy” Cancer Pavilion. We patients are sometimes treated to free concerts while loitering around waiting for whatever is happening next on our pavilion visits. I can’t play a lick, having bailed out at the earliest possible moment from the childhood piano lessons required by nearly all middle class parents of my boomer generation. Nevertheless, I’ve been working on some new lyrics to The Allman Brothers’ classic “Statesboro Blues”, in hopes one of the pavilion players might do a request………….

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rUgk_Tsee6s


Wake up patients, keep your costs down low;
Wake up patients, keep your costs down low.
You got no coverage baby, to keep collectors from your door.

I woke up this morning, had them Preexisting Condition Blues,
I woke up this morning, had them Preexisting Condition Blues.
Well, I look at all you patients, and y’all seem to have them too.

Well my employer went and dumped me,
My COBRA died and left me,
I ain't near dead yet baby,
Want some coverage sweet and kind.

I'm goin' to the clinic, how can I pay to go?
And if I can't pay it Mr. Boehner, the billing office said I can’t go no mo’.
(and I sure will miss it).

I loved that COBRA, better than any insurance I've ever seen;
Well, I loved that COBRA, better than any insurance I've ever seen.
Well, now, it treated me like a king, yeah, yeah, yeah,
I paid lotsa good money like it a dog gone queen.

Wake up Boehner, we need some coverage now.
Wake up McConnell, we need some coverage now.
’Cause we got no coverage baby, to keep collectors from our door.


My heartfelt thanks go to the claims department of my post-COBRA insurance carrier and my ‘friends’ in Congress for inspiring me to pen these lyrics.

2 comments:

  1. Rich, great lyrics to a great song - Lee

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  2. Thanks Lee. Don't know how much of the blog you've read, but the very first post starts out with new lyrics to The Eagles' "Hotel California".

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