A girl walks into a doctor and says, “Hey, my stomach hurts. I hope I don’t have cancer.”
The doctor, a kindly fellow, responds, “Let’s see what’s going on.”
After an ample amount of poking and prodding — and chatting about family histories and such, the doctor offers the following options:
1) A CT Scan.
2) Do nothing.
“Those are two pretty drastically different options, doc,” she says.
“Well, yes, they are, but let’s assume we find something with the CT Scan. You’ll be uninsurable,” and then he mumbles a bit about pre-existing conditions and such. “Oh, and for further information, renal cancer isn’t too bad if we catch it early, but it can be a real bitch later on.”
Her head begins to spin.
“It’s really up to you,” he kindly says, knowing that the options he’s offered both suck.
“Well that’s pretty messed up,” she responds, not saying ‘messed’ but a slightly less classy word befitting the situation that begins with the letter ‘F’.
“Yes it is,” the doctor states, “but it’s a better alternative than you’d have in most of the world.”
Is it? IS IT?