You Don't Realize How Good You've Got It, Till You DON'T Have It...

Unfortunately, I'm a statistic.

No, this did not occur because of pregnancy, though that did make the issue more front and center. I am one of millions of Americans who has gone without health insurance for an extended period of time. 5 very long years to be exact. I was a snot before that point too. I took my health insurance coverage for granted. I didn't just have coverage, I had it good. Once I was old enough to know, I still didn't appreciate it. I didn't pay for medicine, I very rarely paid for doctor's appointments, I never paid more than 30 bucks for a visit to the emergency room (and believe me, I've had A LOT of those). I was a navy brat.

Things started going downhill sometime around my junior year of college. That's when I hurt myself so badly that yet again I had to go to the emergency room. That summer, I started receiving the bills from the hospital, informing me I owed $800!!! OMG, how the hell does a broke ass college student pay for that?! Simple, with a credit card! But then my dad wanted to know why insurance hadn't covered it. Some quick research to discover that more or less because I had to go to a non military hospital, they weren't obligated to pay the bill without months and months of red tape. The reason why they could get away with this was because I had entered limbo being over the age of 23 AND still in college, but they didn't have to cover me anymore, so basically they were looking for anyway possible to get out of paying this $800 bill. Somehow, my dad talked to the right people and they managed to extend my coverage for one more year, but that after that year, I would no longer be covered by my parent's health insurance. My parents assured me this wouldn't be a big deal, we would find a way to get me coverage.

Fast forward to a year later and me and my mom sitting at my parent's auto insurance company which also could provide health insurance. We filled out the forms and then sat and waited for a month, only to discover that I had been denied health insurance because of a pre-existing condition. That "condition" is me being overweight. Yup. You read right. I was denied health insurance that I (and my parents) were willing to pay for because I weighed too much and was considered a health risk. Now, don't give me the crap about defending the health insurance companies because it drives up their premiums and I am a health risk. I know I'm a health risk. So is my 72 year old father with diabetes and my 20 year old brother with asthma. The problem comes in that I'm willing to pay for insurance and this company was unwilling to cover me because I didn't fit into their "standards" of health. Just because you have factors that put you at risk, doesn't mean you don't have the right to have access to health care. Nothing is more shell shocking though, than being told that you basically don't have that right. Because there is almost nothing in this country more expensive than actually going to get health care.

I spent 5 long years doing my best to avoid being sick, toughing out the sickness against my own better judgement and having myself and my parents sink at least $2000 into hospital bills when I couldn't avoid going to the hospital all together. (A reason I'm hoping my child will NOT be accident prone. Mostly, because its no fun to have scars all over you. Though at least you have stories.) My primary care physician did the best she could for me, seeing me when she could and charging me bare minimum prices when I did have to go see her. Mostly, I avoided it as best as I could because I just can't afford it. I literally could not afford to get sick or hurt. That is one of the most frightening feelings in the world. And it was something I felt all the time for 5 long years.

One of the reasons it felt like the floor had dropped out from underneath me when I found out I was pregnant, was because I had NO idea how we were going to pay for all of the costs of this. But the clothes and the this and the that for the kid didn't phase me. That will always get figured out. But I could see me and the boy being in debt for the rest of our lives and never being able to get anywhere, because neither of us have health insurance and how are we going to pay for this?! I knew it was expensive to have a kid, but truly didn't know until I went to see my baby doctor and they gave me the breakdown of how much this was going to cost if I paid for it all myself...

$2000 - covers up to 15 prenatal visits

Vaginal delivery

Physical exam

One post-partum visit at 6 weeks - Pap smear not included

Fees do not include...

1st initial visit (200 to 900 dollars)

C-section w/ prenatal visits - $2500

Prenatal blood tests - lab will bill

Amniosentesis - $250.00

Ultrasounds - $100 - $230 a piece

Non Stress test (???) - $50

Male circumcision - $337.00 (Yeah, this kid needs to be a girl)

Alpha-feta protein - lab will bill

RPR - lab will bill

Urinalysis - $8

Hemoglobin - $15

Oh my God! This doesn't include any extra stuff, like if you have to go to the hospital or extra testing for unforseen complications, or complications in general. Like me, I made a mistake, didn't go with my gut and went to the hospital first to find out for sure if I was pregnant. Two weeks later, I got the bill and 45 minutes later, my mom walked in my room to find me rocking back and forth on my bed clutching the bills and wailing, while the boy rubbed my back in an effort to calm me down. Ever really paid attention to what you are paying for? I now know. Here's what I got billed for...

Hospital:

1 Emergency Visit - $855.35

1 Laboratory Charge i.e. peeing in a cup - 111.15

1 Radiology diagnosis -having my confirmation ultrasound - 558.90

1 Pharmacy Charge - tiny pill to curb nausea I was having - .75 cents

Then, the Radiology department sends me a bill for 138.50 for having someone read my ultrasound! Oh and the doctor charges me for services rendered - 233.00. Final grand total for sitting in the hospital for 4 hours....$1897.65!!!!!!!!!!

I'm a statistic now. I'm on medicaid. I'm not proud of it. But I don't have $5000 to toss around for health care. I don't know many people that do. I'm not a lazy person. I'm not a person trying to cheat the system. I'm simply a woman, trying to have a child, without having her own health insurance. The claim is that one day, I'll look back on all of this and laugh. Hopefully, I will. With health insurance.

Debbie Downers...

::SIGH:: Hi, my name is Flaherty and I'm an optimist.

I have spent most of my life looking for the sunshiny side of things. The upside. Glass half-full kinda crap. It doesn't always work. I have my days. I get grumpy. But for the most part, I have to check everything out and see things through before I make a decision that it is bad for me or not a good option.

We have potentially found an apartment. A groovy apartment. An apartment two streets up from the Oceanfront. OH MY FREAKING GOD, I have been babbling about living at the beach since I was in high school. God, I don't even have to live there forever, but to be able to say I lived at the beach and cross that off the big list of things to accomplish in life, I would be so happy. Even better, its not overly expensive. Its expensive, but not overly expensive. We have to go check it out obviously, and I've long learned to stop putting all my eggs in one basket, but this could be sweet.

I'm excited, thrilled, really. This could be cool. So why do people like to rain on other people's parades? Is it because people can not be truly happy for someone else? Is it the need to be "real" and help others be "real"? Or does it just suck to hear that something is going right for two people who have been on the EPIC roller coaster of FAIL for the last year and a half and you just have to make them cranky? I don't rain on your parade. I'm truly happy for you and all your stuff. Jealousy is an ugly color on anyone and so are you in anything backless! (I'm bitter, sorry.)

Anyways, I'm excited, i can't wait. I'm going to check this place out and see where its at, what its like, what the parking is like and all sorts of other things and take pictures and then we'll see how me and the boy feel about it. He's getting all puffy chesty because he thinks he's providing me with something I want. Which is true. I want this real bad. We'll see how it is though and then go from there.

Being Cool...

I have been cool approximately 10 minutes of my life. Total. Maybe.

I have had really cool stuff happen to me. This does not in fact make a person cool. This simply means you were in the right place at the right time. Which is true for me about 75% of the time.

Being cool is this thing that always seems to just escape me. I never quite say the cool thing. I never quite make it on wearing the right clothes at the right time. I always just tried a little too hard in high school. Actually, high school was mostly about just skating on by, except for my Student Council days. But that didn't make me cool. That was just leadership and decorating skills and planning skills.

I was never athletically inclined. I danced. I was pretty good. Not fantastic. If we had the money, I probably would've gotten good at it. Other than that, not an athletic person. Cheerleader...in the first grade. Softball...Rec league, where no one really cares. Soccer in high school...i played the last 10 minutes of every game because the coach took pity on me.

College was really my blossoming years, as a person and as someone who knew the way she wanted to be. But years of knowing I was never cool still followed me to college and affected the kind of person I was not, not as badly as it had in high school, but enough to where I can still tell the difference between how I used to be and how I am now.

The way I got through high school and even parts of college, was being a people pleaser. I wasn't cool, I didn't quite fit in the way I wanted to, so I was really kind and really helpful. Sometimes to the point where I let myself be talked to in a way that wasn't kind and to where I allowed myself to be in bad relationships because I just wanted to be accepted. Because I had a hard time accepting myself.

I'm a very dorky, awkward, kind of hilarious person. No matter how much weight I lose after I have my baby, I will never be 'petite' or 'cute'. I will always be taller than average. I will always have a tendency to just kind of say whatever is at the tip of my tongue because its how I feel or because there is no point in holding back anymore. I will trip over my own feet, but dance rather gracefully because I had 4 years of ballet training, which makes me semi-graceful. I will read for the rest of my life, because it is how I learn and I like to learn and know and have 7 million random facts floating in my head for conversations with the many different people I know in my life. I like relating to lots of people and I like helping people, but I learn more and more everyday that helping and pleasing is not a way to be accepted. It is a way to be used and abused and mistreated.

The funny thing is, is that when you start changing, people don't like it. I understand it, to an extent, but i don't. Its hard for me some days, because I want to slip back into people pleaser mode to keep the peace. But, i'm not so good at keeping peace anymore. I get aggravated when I realize my kindness is being taken advantage of. That really creams my corn, a lot. And people don't want to take me seriously. They think that i'm nice and so they can do what they want and I'll come back for more. I have friends, good friends, and a nice family and the wonderful boy and a baby coming. I have a pretty full life. I'm tired of adding people who want to use me for my car and my perks at the radio station and other such nonsense. But then people get angry when i stand up for myself. If it was them in my shoes, they would act much the same way. I'm not mean. Not yet.

What concerns me the most, is that if i don't stop now, my child will follow my path. I already want so much more for this little person. I mean, you can't help personality, you are what you are. But, if mommy is not a pushover, baby will not be a pushover. I find more and more, everything I do is not only for the betterment of myself, but the betterment of my future child. It makes it a lot easier to not slip back into people pleaser mode.

Geez, my emotions are in overdrive right now. I need my pregnancy hormones to chill out!

Stubborn Biatch

That is thy name.

Sorry, its the harsh reality right now. As of right now, I'm 13 weeks pregnant. My feet are starting to swell, my face is breaking out, i'm getting chubbier and nausea still makes it impossible to eat somedays. Oh, and i'm an emotional nutcase.

The problem with being an emotional nutcase is that I don't react to things in a rational manner. (Not that I ever really did.) But I'm much more honest. I'm holding back a lot less. I'm coming off as a henious, stubborn bitch and I don't care.

Its not a personal thing. I've spent two-third's of my life being nice to people and finding a kind way to say things about people because I am just not fond of confrontation. Once confrontation surfaces, I normally avoid it like the black plague and go into hiding in my shell and just keep my thoughts to myself and stew. I seem to have lost this ability to be able to do this sort of thing all the time. But I can't say that I'm truly upset about this.

I love my boyfriend's family. I do. They are kind people, with redneck tendencies, but a lot of people are. That I can live with. What I can't live with is being driven nuts!

First off, this is my pregnancy. Which means I'm the one that's carrying this kid. Which means I can handle this situation how I want. The boy and I get to raise this kid the way we want, which means we get to make decisions about how we handle discipline, schooling and other such nonsense.

Secondly, if someone tries to push freaking boy baby clothes on me before we freaking know what I'm having, i'm going to literally strangle the person who does that to me. We don't know what I'm having. I think I'm having a girl, but on the off chance I'm not, I want to know for sure. Until I know for sure, I'm not buying a single stitch of clothing. (Well, i did buy a really cute Bunny ears hat for easter. Sue me, I'm a new mom.) Stop pushing stuff on me. I don't need it. I have enough on me as it is.

Third, there are three major events in a woman's life, only two of which she's has some kind of control over, because at your funeral, you're dead, and quite frankly as long as no one just throws me in the backyard, I really won't care anymore. But, you can control your wedding and your pregnancy/baby shower. Please let me have a say in what I want to do. Its mine. I don't want to have to live vicariously through someone else because I didn't get to do things the way I wanted to. Save us all the hassle and save me the tears and let me do what I want, because at this point, i'm going to be pushed to pay for it myself, have it in the backyard and invite 15 people tops. I'm not in kindergarten, and i'm less and less fond of the idea of inviting people who don't like me and who i don't consider friends or family to this thing. And on top of that, why is this such a big deal, its a party for me to be a freeloader. I'll take care of it when I'm good and ready. I would like to accomplish the red tape of Medicaid first before I start worrying about whether I want chocolate or yellow cake at the party. And hey, maybe I want confetti cake. Confetti frosting is the shit, ok?

And finally, quite frankly, you don't know what I'm putting in my mouth. You don't ask me. You just assume. Yes, i know I'm fat. I've been looking at this body for a really long time, I know the flaws and the good parts. But, just because i'm fat and now having a baby does not mean that I am treating my stomach like a trash shoot. I have a salad everyday. I've severly increased my intake of fiber, in a concentrated effort to not have to deal with constitpation and hemeroids. I am literally force feeding myself milk so that I get my daily quota of calcium and don't develop Osteoperosis. (Literally. I chug 3 glasses of milk a day. I hate milk. But i do it.) I already worry about gestational diabetes (because my mom got it both times when she was pregnant), high blood pressure, and the effects of stress on a baby. I take prenatal vitamins everyday, do yoga five days a week and have cut caffeine out of my life almost completely. I am so worried about how much weight I'm putting on and am trying my damndest to not put on too much weight but make sure I put on enough so that the baby will be healthy. And quite frankly, instead of being worried about what I put in my mouth, why don't you worry about what you are putting in your mouth.

Side note: The people who this is directed at don't read this blog, at least not as far as I know. I've actually said most of this to the people who this is directed at. I just need to try to get it out of my system. Its driving me nuts.

The point of all of this is please, please continue to try to tell me what to do. Seriously. All you are doing is turning me into a hard-headed, stubborn bitch, who is not going to listen to you. Seriously.

Love and Adventures

This picture reminds me perfectly of last summer. Days spent at the beach with good friends, my love and the bright sunshiny days of summer. It is why I love living at the beach and why I love everything about my life. (Well, most everything. But nothing is perfect.)

I'm an adventurous person who comes from a long line of adventurers. I mean c'mon my great grandparents did trek over here from Ireland, and it takes a lot of adventure to do that. My dad joined the navy and traveled literally all over the world and fought for his country. My mom joined the navy, left her family in Connecticut and went to Spain, went to Italy after an earthquake and coordinated a rescue team and met her future husband in Spain.

My Aunt Judy has always been an adventurer, even after her husband died, going to see her daughters in Florida and California at least 3-4 times a year and her daughter who lives in California is taking Aunt Judy to Ireland for St. Patrick's Day and then they are going to Paris. Proof enough for me that you can have adventures whether you are young, old, with kids, without kids, whatever.

I'm already making plans for more adventures, on top of everything else going on. The Summer Olympics are in 2012 in London, where my Aunt Claudia lives, who is extremely excited that I'm popping out a kid. So even though the baby will only be two and won't remember too much of it, i'm trying to figure out a way to save enough money in the next two years to travel to London that summer so that we can go see my Aunt and go on adventures. I want to take the baby to Colombia when she (or he) is four, just like I did. I'm already making plans for the torturous adventure to Disney World and I'm sure there's other stuff I'll come up with as I sit here, getting chubby and glorious.

I just want to go on adventures with people I love and experience life and prove that just because you get older, doesn't mean you get boring. It just means you move a little slower.