A lesser-known benefit of Medicare

The other day, the phone rang. The feeble, woozy, frightened voice on the line was chilling. “It’s me. You won’t believe what’s happened.” I hoped it was a wrong number, but then barely recognized the distorted voice of a friend. She had gone into the hospital for a simple surgery, expected to be there overnight and back to work soon. Instead, the surgeon punctured her bladder. When she called us four days and several transfusions later, she was still very ill. The hospital had arranged for a Medicare-supplied walker and commode and told her to go home. She told them she was alone and wasn’t a...