Last month I went to a podiatrist for a pain in my feet. I mean, I already had the pain, I wanted him to make it go away. As part of his treatment, he recommended custom orthotics; spendy, but covered by my insurance. "Covered by my insurance," sounded pretty good, so I jumped on them, or I would have if my feet hadn't hurt.
Now let me tell you that last December, as in most Decembers, we had long since gone into our catastrophic coverage, which means that we have already spent a catastrophic amount on health care, but we don't have to pay any more that calendar year. Oh, and most years, I only go to the doctor never, so I rarely pay a deductible, because Karen has met the family deductible single-handedly. By December, we're all, "Sure I'll have a colonoscopy and give me the change in prostate exams." By the way, that's just for illustrative purposes. I have never personally said anything even remotely like that. Anyway, I went and got the custom orthotics today and was charged the full price of several hundred dollars towards my deductible. Ouch.
The young lady at the front counter said to wear them sparingly at first, to get used to them and that if I developed new pain in my knees or back to let them know so they could make adjustments to the orthotics. Apparently she didn't realize that at my age, all I do is develop new pains in my knees and back.