That’s all I have, bits and pieces. You all have such interesting lives or at least you have the skill to make them look interesting. Why, if I didn’t have your lives to live vicariously, the litter box and my annual physical (today) I’d have nothing. Well, that’s not entirely true.
I’ve been felting. There’s wisps of wool all over the third floor here in the Brickhouse. I’ve been thinking of starting up a little Etsy business and then putting sort of an “ah, shucks, you don’t have to buy anything” squeeze on my friends and acquaintances. But how many of you, seriously, could use hand felted and lined knitting needle cases? Four. Maybe. I’m also doing wallets and scarves, table runners and mats. It’s all just too craftaculous. Reminds me of when I spent a 12 year old summer making glorified sit-upons with the comics and magazine section of the Sunday paper.
Speaking of crafts, a couple weeks ago several people commented on the odd item in one of my photos. Faithful friend, Judy (Kenju), thought it was a flying saucer. It was Teton, my turtle. While polymer clay is not my thing, when I found this guy in the little gift shop at Grand Tetons. I couldn’t believe the skill and artistry. I still can’t. He is SO beautiful.
When I was in the Tetons, I climbed to an elevation of 13,280 ft. with Abby, who was 12. I was 47 years old. Two years later, I did the entire down/up of the Grand Canyon (while Swiss octogenarians in lederhosen skipped up and down beside me). Today, exactly ten years after the Teton ascent, I’m going in to see my internist for a routine check up. This will undoubtedly result in a trip to 4 specialists and cost me (my insurance company) thousands. Here’s my little list, written on the whole foods magnetized shopping list so I won’t forget. Usually, I make a mental list and then when she says, “So, how ARE you?” I smile affably and say, “Uh, fine!” and leave feeling as though I had entirely too little time to complain and whine. Now, since I’ve openly admitted that I can no longer remember anything, plus I no longer have much dignity, I make a shopping list of complaints. It reads:
– going deaf right side?
-dry. HRT? (also HF, < drive, <sleep
-Vitorin. Does drug suck or what? NYT, AMA say yes. Why am I taking this?
-thumb falling off. Arthritis?
-hate front desk nurse. 3 days for script refill, rude, says dumb shit. Complain.
-bone density time?
Some list, huh? I am going to ask her about that bone density test last thing and place it strategically in the conversation in such a way that she might forget about telling me to get a colonoscopy. That’s the plan.
Speaking of health insurance, lots of you had feelings about that when I wrote about Abby’s plight. Well, she’s REALLY better now and back to work but not before she again had to go to the ER. And this is a child who has previously gone years without feeling the need for a doctor, but she was very frightened by the level of bone pain and weakness and thought she should be checked. There was nothing they could do for her except tell her to wait it out, take more meds for pain (which she doesn’t/won’t) and charge then another 1200.00.
Here’s the Catch 22, the insult to injury if you will. Today, when I go to the doctor, I will pay 20.00 co-pay and the billing person will zip off a bill for about 980.00 to my insurance company. That will include a physical, a pap, a blood and urinalysis (note to self: don’t pee between now and then). BCBS will send them back a check for 273.00, saying basically “we think that’s sufficient for this visit and that’s where we have profiled the costs.” My doctor’s office will say, “Swell, thank you very much” and write off the rest. If the person sitting next to me has no insurance they will hand her a bill for 1000.00 and she will be expected to pay it in full. In other words, the uninsured are billed at the highest possible rate with no reduction for being a big conglomerate like BCBS. And so, Abby and Misha, without insurance, got socked at the highest possible level of billing and because they are good do-bees they are working an extra job to pay it while (actual figure) 96% of uninsured visits to the ER go unpaid. What kind of system is that? That’s rhetorical.
Well, there was something really special I wanted to share with you but now I have to segue into getting fresh and clean for my doctor, who I suspect of not really caring about me all that much. It’s a giant humming office at Northwestern Medical Center. I guess as long as she takes good care OF me, that’s sufficient.
I promise I will put that special thing up for tomorrow, which happens to be Friday Ark day- I’m even taking my camera along with me this morning.