Has an email about changing insurance ever made you cry?
If so–you might have a chronic disease.
My employer is changing insurance providers and I’m scared out of my whits. For most people, a change in insurance companies doesn’t mean a whole lot. You will probably still go to the same urgent care clinic for strep throat tests, and you’re probably fine calling whatever toll free nurse-line number that’s printed on the back of your insurance card. You might have to see a different primary care physician each year for your pap/physical, but the only doctor who would have ever recognized you in a crowd was probably the pediatrician you had until you moved out of your parent’s house.
The insurance company is the gatekeeper to our care. They approve or deny every aspect of what keeps us alive. Typically it means a change in the ‘provider network.’ Most insurance companies make deals with certain providers for two reasons; it keeps the insurer’s costs to a minimum and it provides some assurance that patients will consistently obtain care from those providers.
I’m thankful to be employed. I am thankful to have insurance in the first place, but I am scared that my current endocrinology team will not be within the new insurer’s provider network. This means paying some percentage for every visit out-of-pocket. It’s commonly between 20-40%. That’s a lot when I am supposed to see them 4 times a year with each visit costin between $300.00 and $500.00.
All I can do is hope that all of my OmniPod supplies are covered and that my team is within the provider network.
Even if not–I’ll keep fighting the good fight.
Almost all of my things are in boxes or bins for the short move to my new one bedroom apartment one suburb over. With help from mamabird and daddy, and other friends, I hope to have everything moved on Tuesday, and be unpacked by the end of the week.
I will very much miss my current place. It’s so open. My master bedroom is huge. But there is a lot of unused space here. The living room is cavernous, but almost never filled with people. The guest room is great, but people stay over less than once a month.
My new place is smaller, and more expensive (since I will not have a room mate with which to split the cost). It is on the main floor, however, with a walk out to grass. This will make Nico very happy. It doesn’t much like bounding up or down the two flights of stairs at our current place. He usually waits to be carried up (which I call giving him a transport). It’s a dog friendly complex with an off leash dog park on the grounds, so I hope we meet other dogs and humans with which to be friends.
Transitions are only as bad as they last. Soon I will be at home at the new place, and onto the next hill to overcome.
I was diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder when I was 16 years old. Prior to being diagnosed and treated I developed (what I thought) were pretty good ways to cope with the constant feeling of nervousness. My main strategy was telling my mom everything I was nervous about at about 9:00pm every evening, while laying on the living room floor. Another was sleeping (Note: I didn’t, and don’t currently, sleep because I am feeling nervous, I just sometimes sleep when I feel nervous because I usually wake up feeling better). Now that my anxiety is controlled, I find that when I’m feeling stress or nerves within the realm of normal, that my coping strategy involves cleaning and/or organizing things.
I can’t say if it’s an effective or healthy strategy, but I sure get a lot of stuff done. I’m also usually able to fall asleep, or continue on with my day afterward. The behavior definitely falls on the mild spectrum of an obsessive compulsive tendency, as I use it as a means to relieve anxious feelings. I will admit that sometimes I wish I didn’t feel compelled to clean and organize, but that I’d much rather put things in order than have a relenting compulsion related to El Caminos.