“You’re welcome.”
Dr. Russo saw him to the office door. Before Gage left, he handed him a folded paper. When Gage frowned curiously at it, Dr. Russo elaborated. “Bo’s medical history.”
“Oh.” Heat rose in Gage’s cheeks. He ducked his head and took the paper, feeling more embarrassed than ever. “Sorry. I, um, I forgot.”
“Clearly. Have a good day, Mr. Langston. I’ll see you again soon.”
Gage nodded. His tongue was tied, and his words felt like they’d be treacherous if he dared let them out of his mouth. Panicked, he clutched Bo to his chest and rushed down the hall, eager to get out. When his heart stopped racing and his mind cleared, he’d look into how much it would cost to get testing done, but for now, he needed a moment to pull himself together.
He could do this. He was strong.
But by the time he made it to the car, his hands were shaking so badly he could barely fit the keys into the ignition.
* * *
xVerity:$435? Shit, TD…
TeenDad2: It could be a lot worse.
xVerity: and it could be a lot better, too. The blood test is another hundred, right?
TeenDad2: yeah
xVerity: do you have that kind of money to spend right now? How much was the visit to the doctor?
TeenDad2: it was just a consultation so it wasn’t so bad. Like, $200
xVerity: If I lived nearby, I’d try to pull some strings for you, but I don’t know anyone in Aurora. I’m sorry, TD.
For a moment, Gage closed his eyes and allowed himself to internalize those words. xVerity, who’d started the Single Dad Support Group chat, and who acted as the cool voice of reason for the men within it, wouldn’t have said one thing and meant the other. He truly was sympathetic to Gage’s struggle, and in a small way, hearing that someone understood what he was going through made the situation better.
TeenDad2: That’s sweet of you. Thank you. I really appreciate it
LoveHarley: Hey TD, just catching up but ouch. Can you start a GoFundMe or something? I mean, that’s just the beginning of your expenses, right? You’re going to need several follow-up appointments, maybe more tests if your doctor isn’t able to make a recommendation, then the prescription itslef…
LoveHarley: *itselk
LoveHarley: oh ffs, ITSELF
Gage snorted. Even though he was rattled from the appointment, Harley always made him laugh.
TeenDad2: I don’t know, Harley. I’ve never had to do anything like this before. I mean, some of Bo’s prescriptions are covered under Medicaid, but it doesn’t cover the testing. And I’m nervous that eventually, the medications won’t be covered either. I mean, some of the drugs on the market are really scarily expensive. Like, stupid expensive. Hundreds of thousands of dollars for a monthly dose expensive. I couldn’t even dream of having hundreds of thousands of dollars over the course of ten years.
xVerity: You need to get on an insurance plan ASAP, TD.
TeenDad2: That would be great if I could afford it. I had a free consultation like, idk, a year ago or so, maybe? Or maybe two years ago, and the guy was basically like, you can pay $250/mo and still have a $15,000 deductible, or something stupid like that, and I just… that’s crazy.
xVerity: But if Bo’s medication is catastrophically expensive, would you rather pay $15k/year plus the monthly insurance rate, or what, the actual million dollars it would take to afford a $100k/mo prescription?
A million dollars a year. More than that, even—almost a million and quarter. Until that moment, with it spelled out on his screen, Gage hadn’t realized the magnitude of what he was dealing with. If Bo was seriously sick—if there was something wrong with him that was rare, or difficult to treat, or otherwise expensive, he could be in the hole for a million dollars ayear.
The shock wore off all at once. Like a safety net had been snatched out from beneath him, Gage plummeted into a cold, dark place. If Bo was on medication all his life to manage symptoms, then what? He had another eighty or ninety years to go. The numbers expanded like spray foam in Gage’s mind until they filled it entirely.
There was no way he could make that kind of money, and there was no way he could ask that from Alex—not that Alex would be able to make that kind of money, either.
Gage dropped his phone on his chest and raked his hands down his face, tugging at his skin until it was taut and uncomfortable. A headache throbbed near the top of his skull, scrambling his brain. Nausea crept up on him, and saliva pooled in his mouth too plentifully to be comfortable no matter how many times he swallowed.
Could he afford the monthly insurance payments on top of everything else? If he put in more hours, and if he asked Mal to take Bo more often, then maybe…
