Getting sick is expensive, whether or not you have insurance. But the cost isn’t merely a matter of dollars and cents. There’s something dehumanizing about long-term health care, as if you’ve crossed over into a place where normal rules of communication no longer apply. “If you are too sweet or a pain in the ass, nobody is going to tell you the truth,” writes Emily Maloney in her memoir/ essay collection “Cost of Living” (Henry Holt and Co., 288 pp., eeeg). “And even if you are none of these things, but just a regularly compliant patient, it’s also possible they will forget to tell you that you are dying.”