First Grown Up Insurance Plan (and the ugly crying that accompanied it)

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Totally, hysterically crying this morning.

I’ve just left a voice message on R.J’s HR person’s phone. I was supposed to be added to his insurance on the 1st, but I never got an ID number. His HR person kept saying, “Oh you’re on the insurance, it’ll show up on the first.” But it never did.

I called every day last week and she kept saying, “tomorrow, tomorrow” and then “Monday.” She said it had to go through their group department and then it would be sent over to Blue Cross.

I’ve called Blue Cross every day to see if they’ve heard anything from HR and they have no idea what I’m talking about. Even today.

I want to walk into this woman’s office, point to the tube and my chest and hold out my hand so she can go ahead and pay for the fourteen fucking medications I have to take each day that are going to end up coming out of my pocket and then sit there and cry at her desk because I’m so flustered from having to ration medication because I have no current coverage.

I haven’t been able to schedule my infusion supplies, or add the insurance to my infusion center and I have to go tomorrow and get my port needle replaced and I can not imagine how much such a little thing is probably going to cost without insurance.

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$500 for a saline IV? What in the…GOOD GOD.

I’m just totally in a panic. We’ve known that I was losing my parent’s insurance for MONTHS. We’ve been actively guiding this entire process along for MONTHS. And the fact that we STILL can’t get it together makes me very nervous.

I don’t even know what the plan is! I’ve got money saved to help meet the deductible–but if I have to put that towards buying meds out of pocket…

My infusion center just called me to ask what was happening since my insurance was coming up inactive. I won’t be able to go in tomorrow if they don’t get my information in.

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That was this morning. Between R.J and I we had harassed the HR person and the insurance company so many times that it seemed fruitless. At the end of the day his HR rep gave him a temporary card for me. The same ID number didn’t work when I tried to call in my infusion supplies today. Maybe tomorrow will be different.

Didn’t realize crying would wear me out so much. I’m actually pretty surprised I actually got to the point of crying. I deal with insurance and doctors and medication mistakes every day.

But sitting with R.J over dinner at our new greek place (lemon chicken soup and pita bread) I think I finally came to the conclusion that it freaked me out because it’s our first insurance problem. And we’re about to be alone together for the first time all legally and financially and it’s really the only part of this new change of life that I’m scared of.

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I have always had the cushion of my parent’s insurance to get me through the worst of my illness. I didn’t have to deal with the first 18 years of medical debt I accumulated. I’ve never had to wait to see a doctor because I was missing coverage. For me, that’s a huge deal. One I’ll be responsible for making sure doesn’t happen for the rest of my life.

It also wigs me out to think of R.J wrapped up in the paperwork of my medical problems. Emotionally and physically and supportively he has been a perfect partner. But this is a burden in something we don’t normally collaborate on. I don’t want to inflict this on him, but the reality is that the financial and technicals costs of my disease will impact him.

This is an adjustment surrounded by the conversation about other very real adjustments like what happens after the honeymoon? Do we buy a house? Do we have kids? Do we move out of state? Where do we start our lives? How much money do we need? How much money will we have? Where are we going next?

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It’s a happy thing: to be in a position in your life where you get to take the next, giant leap. But I would by lying about how many kleenex I wasted sobbing over the waiting music with BlueCross.

What a cliffhanger, right?

 

 

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