The Surgeon's Playlist
A fluorescent-lit hospital break room at 11:38 PM, a half-eaten vending machine burrito slowly rotating on the microwave plate.
Double just found out that Dr. Kessler — the only orthopedic surgeon in a 90-mile radius — is also their Uber driver from last Thursday, the one they tipped two dollars on a 47-minute ride and called 'chief' three times. Double's ACL is torn. The MRI is already on Kessler's desk. Bust is suggesting they drive to Phoenix, eat the $900 out-of-network deductible, and never make eye contact with this man again.
“Doctors take an oath, Bust. He's not gonna botch my knee over a tip. I'm pretty sure I called him 'boss' at least once too, that's basically a compliment.”
“You called him chief, stiffed him two dollars, and then — your words — asked if he'd ever considered a 'real career.' He's going to be inside your knee with a blade.”
Double went through with the surgery. Dr. Kessler did a flawless job on the ACL — then billed every single optional add-on code in orthopedic medicine, including a $4,200 charge for 'complex ligament mapping' that three separate insurance reps have never heard of, and signed the discharge papers 'Best regards, Chief.'
He literally itemized his emotional damages and submitted them to Blue Cross.
The knee feels GREAT though, Bust, you can't put a price on mobility — okay well apparently Kessler can, but still.