Insurance solved

Posted by Mae in Medical Stuff, Weighty Issues, Life in General, Married Life, The Move

My husband found out today that we can get COBRA coverage for 18 months. After that time we hope he’ll have had need of additional employees, whether it’s just me or outside help… but either way, he’ll qualify for group coverage after a year, and we couldn’t be turned down then.

The best part is, since we’ve already met our deductible and our insurance has an arrangement with another company, we don’t need to go out of network or pay additional fees. The HSA is covered by the business, and so is the premium. We won’t pay a penny out of pocket, except for prescription co-pays. Woohoo!

Also, there are three reproductive endos less than half an hour away… very good news for my PCOS issues when we start trying to have babies (hopefully late next year, but we’ll see how things go).

I was out in Jersey today for my final dental cleaning with my much beloved dentist. He’s literally the only dentist I’ve ever liked, which is probably not saying much because prior to him I’d seen two. Of course, I’ve also seen two oral surgeons, but I don’t want to remember those horrors. It’s amazing how much difference there is between when I first started to see him and now. I really believed back then that I’d be wearing dentures by 30. I was 22 years old, almost 23… and I had a mouth full of cavities and broken, rotten teeth. Not pretty in the least bit. Well, one of the reasons I love my dentist is he thanks patients for working hard with him to get their problems resolved… and he’s right, of course. If I hadn’t changed my dental care routines, I wouldn’t be finished with the work now. So, because I take better care of my teeth and because I have regular cleanings, my cleaning today took less than half an hour - the shortest one of my life. It may be a little thing to most people, but it made me feel good. I wasn’t just lazy… I was terrified. My early dental experiences all involved scary situations, and I didn’t go at all for eleven years. To say I was terrified is an accurate assessment. However, I didn’t want to be toothless by 30, so I figured out a way to overcome my phobia and find the right dentist who could - and would - help me save my remaining teeth. He might be the miracle worker, but it took some help from me…

It’s when I look at things like this that I realize I can’t give up on myself where my weight is concerned. I could’ve kept living in fear, seven years ago when I first began the journey with my dentist. I could’ve used a number of excuses - and some would’ve been legit, especially the financial ones. He’s much less expensive than most (he gives my family a break because we all go to him and have for years), but it was still a very large expense over seven years. Just my two rounds of oral surgery alone cost nearly $3000. Toss in a handful of cavities and a root canal, and well… you get the picture. I didn’t let that be an excuse, though. I knew that as scared as I was, back when it started, that I had to deal with reality. I had a mouth full of rotten teeth. I was in extreme pain… I was existing on pain killers back then. Then came the point at which, once you get five teeth yanked at once and go through the recovery for that, no other dental pain is really all that bad (except having more, maybe - wouldn’t know and hope I never find out!). Besides, the pain of a cleaning or a cavity means I keep my teeth… it means I don’t get knocked out to get teeth forever removed - and that makes it worthwhile.

This, like getting my license last year, might seem small to most people… but to me it’s huge. It feels absurd to say, but it’s an accomplishment of great magnitude to me. I walked out of his office with sore, throbbing gums… and that pain made me so pround because it reminded me (and so did my dentist as he handed me my records) of how far I’ve come in just over seven years.

I’m so far from done with the whole self-improvement project that is my life… and I guess I don’t ever want to be done. I want specific tasks to be done, but if I stop thriving to be better… well, what’s the point of being alive then?