The Curious Similarities Between People and Cars

Ben Ferguson -- Ever since my car started having serious trouble early last year and eventually had to be sold (if you can call it that -- it netted $400), I have been particularly sentient of the comparisons that are commonly made between glorified mechanics doctors and actual mechanics, as well as between the things they deal with: the human body and cars.

Both doctors and mechanics are sometimes seen as sketchy people who don’t always tell the whole truth, don’t appear to tell the whole truth, or tell outright lies at times, whether it’s because of potential financial gains, laziness, coercion, etc. Sometimes both are downright unethical in the way they communicate and interact with their patients and customers. Both are in possession of knowledge that most lay people aren’t privy to, and this places them squarely in a position of power relative to those they serve, allowing them to manipulate many aspects of decision-making about a person’s body or car should they want to engage in such decision-making.

Quick: Think of the last time you went to get an oil change and the mechanic told you that your system needed to be flushed in order for your car to run properly, or that you needed a new air filter because your current one is “reducing your car’s performance,” or that your battery may have needed to be replaced -- would you like to take care of that today? I bit the first time I was told some of these things, and I’ve been told them many times since.

Think of the last time repairs to your car were quoted at, say, $400 and you ended up paying $600. “Whoops,” they say, “we didn’t anticipate that.” But you know they did. You know -- at least you strongly suspect -- they underquoted you so that you’d have the work done. If they hadn’t, perhaps you’d have shopped around a bit more. Things like that happen all of the time in probably every field of work, but both doctors and mechanics are in especially enabled positions to pull that kind of crap. Trust can diminish quickly, and this is especially true in light of this recent evidence.

We are all unfortunately familiar with the universal fact of life that our bodies and our cars are expensive to maintain. They break down and inevitably need service every so often. When money is tight, the question of whether to spend money on needed repairs sometimes comes up with both. If you’re a college or grad student living from loan check to loan check, do you really need to get a referral for that back pain, or can you live with it? Don’t you ponder your account balance before filling that antibiotic script? Do you even fill it period? Do you really need to see a doctor for that wart on your hand, or for the abdominal pain you’ve had for the past 6 hours, or for the headache you’ve had for the past few days? Do you really want to blow all your money going to the ER just to r/o meningitis every time you’ve got a stiff neck? Do you think twice, like I did a few days ago, about making that dermatology appointment for five minutes just to get a skin cream script if it’s going to cost you $234.93 every time?

When money is tight, these things don’t seem so dire. What’s more important is not going broke, eating, preserving your sanity, etc. even if you have to live with an imperfect body for a while. Similarly, do you really need to head over to the body shop every time you see a dent in your car? Can you live without air conditioning for the last few weeks in September? Does the rattling under your hood really annoy you, or can you live with that too? Honestly, who needs side mirrors and hubcaps and AC dials anyway? When money is tight, these problems don’t seem like problems; they seem more like everyday annoyances, and even if they do seem like problems, what are you going to do about it beyond blowing the last few dollars in your bank account?

When money is tight, I think many of us would stop and think twice about fixing ourselves and our cars at the drop of a hat. Some extreme things just don’t seem all that extreme anymore. Even with insurance, there’s not much motivation to seek health care or car servicing. Is it really worth it to you to pay $25 for a medication when $50 of it is already covered and you’ve only got a few hundred in the bank to cover you for the month? Perhaps, but usually no: You’re still out $25 whether it’s discounted or not. Do you whip out your wallet and fork over the extra $100 over your $500 deductible to fix the body damage to your car? Likely, no; you can live with a deformed car for now. Spending money like that seems at times like a luxury, not a necessity.

The value of ourselves and our cars must come to mind too. Would you put $1000 worth of repairs into a car that’s worth $10,000? How would that decision change if fixing it would cost you $5000? $500?

You’re 90 and you’ve lived a great, full life; how much time and energy and money and optimism do you want to invest in yourself when you’re not doing so hot in the first place? How would that change if this were your first hospital admission in the past 20 years? Your twentieth in the past two years? How would it change if you’ve been diagnosed with a terminal, metastatic cancer just after your 90th birthday? Diagnosed with pneumonia? Diagnosed with the flu?

And so, as the cautious and skeptical former owner of a crappy car that was in and out of shops before finally breaking down for good, and the owner of a sometimes crappy body that has weird stuff happen to it from time to time, I am now, more than ever, aware of how cautious and skeptical patients who’ve been in and out of hospitals for the past year must feel and how most of the underinsured and, more often, uninsured population around Hyde Park must feel. I used to think it strange that some people with serious medical problems simply don’t seek care, but now I realize that “serious” becomes a seriously relative term depending on your life situation.