Death, Insurance, Oprah and Whatnot
People keep dying.
A friend's friend who was a writer. Colon cancer. Stage IV.
And then there's that thing where people are like, didn't she get a colonoscopy? Like there's some sort of blame involved in dying. Like if we can just sort the circumstances out in our heads-figure out the odds-it makes the world safer for us.
That's just the thing. It's not.
As I understand it(and I cannot say that I do), this woman was below the age where a colonoscopy is recommended so she didn't have the luxury of pre-screening. No family history. No signs and symbols. No collecting of two hundred dollars.
I surfed the Marketplace AND spoke to a Marketplace guy on the phone and came up with a new plan from a new company that was more than twice what I paid before, but it seemed as if paying this chunk more would be a better decision long-term.
As you recall, my plan for 2016 was to stay as far away from doctors and hospitals as humanly possible, but it seems as if you don't get to simply hop off the ride.
There have been befuddlements already. Like you had to make the first payment to get your coverage to go into effect but you could not possibly get through to them on the phone and so it's the third day of the new year and I only just got my member ID. I made my first monthly premium payment online. And I tried to see if the next doctor I'm supposed to be checking in with is covered under the plan and now I see we're playing a new game involving Tiers.
She's Tier Three? Or Two? Or something that seems less that ideal-co-pay-wise?
This. is. not. good.
I am being bombarded by Oprah.
So much so that I changed her name. (Noprah has a better ring to it, right?) We were watching some terrible teevee last night and Every Commercial was requesting that you trade them some hard earned dollars and they were going to tell you how to become smaller.
And while this is high on my list of things to do-enough coddling of myself already, right?-I'm not falling for this nonsense again.
More of : this
None of this:
I'm waiting to hear back from the Y.
A little follow-up to the Sweet Potato Guy. (Formerly known as The Dying Guy but who am I to say?) Did he make the spuds? He said he thought he undercooked them. Uggh, thought me, good thing I didn't get those ones that are the size of a cow's thigh, right?
I've seen him since. A couple times. He remains unwell but that arrives in levels. Sometimes better and sometimes less better. Or something.
I got called in on a frozen night just to work on him and this time the tip was a hearty thanks and I thought, you don't tip me when I come in especially for you? Seriously? Whoa, huh?
Got home and discussed the possibilities of Not Ever Really Knowing Someone Else's Situation Especially Regarding The Effects of Medication and offering up the possibility of Giving Back to the same universe that has given so much to me and decided not to give it any more thought.