Sadness, I Thought I Knew Thee

I thought after 42 years, I knew sadness. I thought I felt it when my father rejected and abused me, and when I fell in love with someone who didn’t love me back. I could have sworn it was there when I lost the best job I ever had, considered divorce, buried family members, and heard my child was chronically ill.

But I had to look into my son’s eyes to see it for the first time. True sadness. I’ve seen him scared, in pain, angry, frustrated and confused. But not sad. Not hopeless… until now.

His resection was around 6 weeks ago, and his recovery is not going as fast as he had planned. He had hoped to be physically stronger by now. But Crohn’s disease kicked the crap out of him for three years at least, not to mention the medications and side effects. A normal recovery is around 8 weeks. He is on schedule, but he is sick of being sick and Lord knows I don’t blame him.

Two neighbors, who were like sisters to him, moved away, then he got sick. That would have been enough, but then being too ill to finish school, and losing contact with most of his friends has made him hesitant with others. I watched my happy, healthy little boy grow into a pale, thin young man with pain in his face. He is well versed in the disappointment that shape many of us during our the teens. He has learned an early lesson in the fleeting nature of friendship and loyalty. I wish some of these things he didn’t have to learn all at once.

I had been planning to return to work. But I have unemployment until July, and I am going to spend it trying to help him to learn to enjoy life again. Even if it is 15 minutes at a time.

 

 

Nothing Like Cheating Death To Put Things In Perspective

My husband got very lucky this week. He was at work, under a tractor, when the guy in the cab pulled the wrong lever and the tractor jumped. The wheel rolled up over Stephen’s foot, onto his calf up to the the side of his knee and landed there, pinning him on a cushion of gravel. Had it been asphalt, his bones would have been shattered.

He said it was the longest five mintues of his life, his leg under all that weight, and his foot sticking out the other side of the tire. He lay there screaming at his partner, as they poor guy rushed to get a crane to lift it off of his leg.

He expected blood. He expected the searing pain of shattered bone, but as bad as it was, nothing was broken. After the paramedics left, in a combination of adrenaline and shock, he hobbled to his truck and drove home.

He said his biggest mistake was ignoring the gut feeling he had moments before the steel monster landed on him. He said he thought, “that thing is gonna get me” but he didn’t move in time. His first worry was missing work.

Now that it has been a couple of days, we both began to realize how lucky he was. Not just that he didn’t lose a leg. Or weeks of income. Had he been lying in some other position he could have easily lost his life, or an arm, and the ability to play guitar. I think that gratitude helps get him through the hellish days of sitting at home, hostage to horrible TV programming and restlessness.

In the meantime, I’ll be purchasing some life insurance on him. We were living without it, and I had never worried about it much. He always said his mom and dad would “take care” of me and Dylan if something happened to him. Well, I don’t trust that anymore. We would be screwed. His mom is a selfish you-know-what, and frankly, I don’t want to ask her for a dime.

Also, I found this very interesting and thought I’d share it: if I take out a life insurance policy on my husband, I would pay no taxes if I were to collect on that policy. But if he were he to purchase the policy and name me as a beneficiary, I would be responsible for taxes on that income. (Got that tip from The Suze Ormand Show.)

I guess now if I’m shopping for life insurance, I can’t make fun of the SelectQuote commercials anymore. I am one of those people they wanted to scare and it worked.  

 

My Health Insurance Is Making Me Sick

I guess Blue Cross Blue Shield must be one of the biggest insurers in the country (I’m too tired right now to look it up)* … either way, after sending countless documents back and forth, my husband and I successfully proved to them that we had indeed been insured for the last 18 months. Every time we have had to change insurance we have had to go through this. The real punch line is we were with Blue Cross the entire time!

I suspect it has something to do with my son’s Crohn’s disease and upcoming surgery. I imagine that they are frustrated that my husband and I have managed to keep ourselves insured… even when it meant my husband taking a job in Ohio for a year. I’m pretty sure that someone in a nicely decorated office would get a bonus if they could find a way out of paying for his procedure and hospital stay. Granted, as soon as we got the new policy, we had several expensive doctor visits and a consultation with the surgeon. I’m sure that put us on their radar.

If I sound paranoid, then you haven’t walked in my shoes. To those of you who have made the horrible journey through the maze of bureaucracy — just to get what you paid for, I salute you, my brothers and sisters. I salute everyone with the strength and persistence to demand the health care you deserve. 

This week, the nice people at Blue Cross refused to pay for my son’s Zyrtec (it stops the side effects from his Remicade) because it is over the counter now… and only a week after they filled a prescription for my Ibuprofen, which is, essentially, Advil.

They also decided that my doctor of 15+ years doesn’t know what he’s doing when writing a prescription for sleep medication. I had a few samples and found that Rozerem is the only one that keeps me asleep without a hangover. But the folks at Blue Cross know better and suggested an alternative drug, Ambiem CR. Ambiem is addictive, and has been known to have dangerous side effects. But it is cheaper. Rozerem has no generic equivalent, and though they are supposed to pay the difference in cost and my co-pay, they just won’t do it.  The pharmacist said my doctor could appeal that, and it could take 30 days.

Screw that, I’ll just drive in my sleep.

*I did run across http://www.sickofbluecross.com/ – have a look!