Wednesday, November 7, 2007

bitter balm: health insurance

emotionally, i'm trying to keep myself from spiraling, from thinking of all the things that could go wrong. the part freaking me out is money, for sure. and insurance. before i found the lump, before i quit my day job, i got individual health insurance. i'm a really healthy person, so i chose a high deductible to keep the monthly cost more reasonable (it's still crazy expensive). then i found the lump and decided that if it turned out to be something significant, i was going to need better insurance. so i signed on with COBRA from my former job. thankfully all this happened within the 60 days they give you to decide!

count the small blessings, i remind myself.

now i am paying for two policies. if i drop the individual one, i won't ever get re-accepted, because now i have a pre-existing condition. that is how health coverage works in this goddamn system. i can certainly just keep the super expensive, excellent coverage of the COBRA policy for only as long as it takes to get the tumor out. But then after that?

the fear and doubt creep in and i'm back to the circus in my head. all the possible crazy things that could happen spin around, faster and faster.

what if it's malignant?
what if I need a mastectomy?
what if i get another tumor down the road, with only shitty insurance in place?

i know it's going to be thousands of dollars in medical bills, regardless. and i fear more than anything else in this situation, that it is those bills that will topple my new life. times like this, leaving the states for socialized medicine somewhere sounds pretty great.

it just makes me want to pull my hair and scream fuck! fuck! fuck! on the top of my lungs.

it's situations like these that being grown up is about as fun as having sharp sticks poked in your eye. yet i am trying valiantly to not fall into that bottomless pool of fear. it is an awful place to be and a crippling one from which to make decisions.

and forget getting anything done in my studio. fear is the arch enemy of creativity. i know this lesson, i thought i learned this lesson already. but it's still here, putting itself on my agenda.

damn lesson.

6 comments:

Maryam in Marrakesh said...

Tay, thinking about money is so stressful. If you find out more scary news about the lump, maybe you should consider putting a donation button on your blog. I know I would donate. $25 contributions will add up.

We are out here supporting you.

Amy said...

Tay, I'm so sad that you are going through this...again! And at such an exciting time art-wise. Please don't hesitate to call me if there is anything I can do to help.

RetroChrome said...

Hi darling...

I'm with you. I really am. What can I do to help?

I am a total expert in the field of finding financial assistance. Heh. Many hospitals offer financial assistance even to those with insurance.

So. Lovelovelove to you from Indiana.

I'm going to check in as often as possible and be ready to assist you any way I can.

You are deeply loved, Twirl.

Jess/bluvoice

Angela said...

Lovely Miss Tay,

Our house has a big open spot on the couch for you and your dog to curl up and eat ice cream and drink wine in front of the fire whilst we lavish love on you. You are welcome to come whenever you need to. You are so loved.

Angie

salmonpoetry said...

nothing is more stressful than having to think about health decisions and money in one thought, for sure. in fact i was worried about that issue when i first read of your lump, knowing you had just quit your job. at least the cobra is in place for now, and you have made such good and reasonable and responsible decisions about your insurance.
my advice is that you must try not to think about money when it comes to decisions about your body and health. put it aside if you can, and when all is said and done, go back to worrying about it. there is incredible support out there for you, and on an issue like this people WILL come forward for you, and your creative dreams and visions will survive and be intact. i know it and feel it and see it in the words written on this blog, and that is only the tip of the iceberg for sure.
i know it is hard not to worry about the money thing let alone all the scary thoughts the turnip brings up. pulling on your hair and screaming fuck seems like a reasonable way to let out some of the energy. hang in there, you're doing great.

Natalia said...

i have the health care system in this country, but am so glad that you got your insurance in place before leaving n.s. think of things this way--at least without a 3rd job you have more time and energy to take care of yourself. i just lost my job and hopefully will have something lined up shortly, but if i can help you in any way while my schedule is wide open, just let me know.