BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH.

But I walk through it, because there is no way around.

Was it last week or the week before when I was complaining to T about how shitty things were? I can’t remember anymore.

I’m working on a paper for my journalism class on healthcare reform, and I can’t help but think of my own problems with my health insurance right now. Basically, I was dropped from my mother’s insurance when I turned 23 in September. I applied for an individual health plan and was denied on October 2nd over clerical issues. I sent in my appeal after calling several people and chasing around for specific documents to prove that I didn’t lie on my application around the 12th. Around the 15th or so, I received a sheet of paper asking if I wanted to continue my coverage under the 30/1500 plan, which was the same plan that I applied for in my individual plan.

This is where I think that the paper that I received on the 15th was some sort of “welcome”, that they accepted my appeal and I was under the individual plan.

Turns out, it was for a completely different plan — the conversion plan that cost $190 per month that was a continuation of my old insurance plan. During this time, I was also accepted for the individual plan.

So now I’m under two insurance plans. Except, I did not know this until they sent in two bills — one that cost $570 for the conversion plan for the months of October (the month where I thought if I got sick, I would have to die alone in a ditch because I had no insurance), November, and December, and $224 for the Individual Plan, for the months of November and December. I call up the insurance company and ask why I received two bills, and it was then explained that I was under two plans. I cancel the more expensive one even though the girl over the phone said that I would need to pay for the month of October — the month that I was insured for.

Before I go any further, this is not a rant on the insurance companies. They’re shitheads, and that’s a given so I don’t like wasting my breath on them. I understand why I have to pay.

However, my mother doesn’t. I also understand why she doesn’t want to pay — because it’s total shit that I was even under two plans at once. It’s not right and it’s not fair. However, at the end of it all, regardless of whether I knew that I was accepted under the Conversion plan, I was still covered and that is my reasoning for why I understand that I have to pay for the month of October. I shouldn’t have to pay at all — I know (if it were up to this socialist, nobody would). So when I explained this to my mom, she threw a fit at me and said to let her handle everything, because I obviously don’t know what I’m talking about and don’t know how to deal with the insurance companies.

It . . . sort of turned into a huge argument between me and my mother. It didn’t get better when she tried to call the company and explain herself and I refused to authorize it and give her permission to let her speak to somebody. I’m tired of letting her fuck things over for me. I’m tired of her downplaying my health problems and I refuse to let her be in the position to jeopardize my Individual Plan. What the hell can she possibly do but make things worse? The insurance company will just tell her what I already know. In the end, I will need to pay.

But because I refused to give her permission, she then decided to ask one of the attorneys at work for help. He doesn’t really know what the fuck is going on. He called them up, said it was fixed, and wrote up a letter explaining why I wasn’t going to pay. I signed for it because I was tired of arguing. If I don’t have to pay, cool. If I do, well I was going to need to anyway. I just don’t like wasting my time since the latter will most likely happen.

And so begins another week. And here I am, forced to walk through it because there’s no way around.

I think that’s one way I’ve changed in 2008 . . . comments like that would have normally been the start of a screaming match. She asked me why I wanted to go, and I tell her that one cavity has gotten so big that it cuts me when I run my tongue along it and the pain in my lower left side hasn’t subsided and I’m still having to numb down that area every so often. She looks at me and says “you can’t fix tooth pain”.

Maybe I can’t and I’ll be forced to numb down that area with oral analgesics for the rest of my life, but at least I’ll be sure that it can’t be helped. Maybe my dentist can find out why it’s hurting. I know he can fix that cavity. My mom doesn’t seem to understand that I just had gum surgery and that if I don’t regularly see a dentist, the problems will come back and I’ll be forced to go through that surgery again — and this time with less of a chance at such a good recovery.

But I did not get angry. In nine months, I’ll be 23 and the insurance will be pulled from under me. In fact, after the next oral surgery (I have three more) I’ll be forced to pay out of the pocket anyway. I’ll be on my own so if there’s any portion of my mouth that can be salvaged, I’ll do it. I’m done letting my mother decide what to do with my body because she knows I can’t pay for it myself.

Still, I wish she would at least try to understand . . . .

For once, I would like to stay with a dentist for longer than a year. I actually like this dentist and he’s really good. And I’m so tired of having to sacrifice the health of my teeth over my mom’s stinginess.

My teeth are loose and falling out and all my mom cares about is money. Typical. Maybe I’ll start wiggling my teeth around her like I did when I was a kid.

And then there’s some aloe.

So I walk out of the shower and my sister is laughing her ass off because my mom is rubbing some aloe over her body — some new “treatment” my mom probably heard from her dumb coworkers that heals some ridiculously stupid physical ailment that doesn’t require aloe vera, like feet callouses. So that’s the scene, my sister is laughing this high pitched, annoying ass laugh while my mom is using globs of aloe on her.

This isn’t a real big deal for me, as I hate it when my mom tries to work that stupid shit on me. But I actually need the aloe. So I ask for some, and she ignores me for about 20 minutes until she’s done with my sister.

She cuts me off a piece from the short end of the aloe plant , rips back a little of the skin, tosses it to me, says

“here. You can do it yourself. Don’t forget to put some on your forehead. Comb your hair. When you’re done with your shower you should comb your hair. Also did you walk after eating? You’re getting fat. You’re at least 115lbs now. Don’t get any fatter”

Thanks mom. I love you too.

Today I told her that I have four pages left out of that monster 12-paged paper I have due tomorrow. I told her that I got a page done while at work, and she stood there in disbelief saying “YOU SPENT THE WHOLE DAY WRITING JUST ONE PAGE?” You know, despite the fact that I was still at work and therefore, doing both my homework and running off copies at the same time.

Mom: If you spend 8 hours doing one page, you’re never going to finish in time!
Me: Well its hard! I had to do research and think about what to say, how to say it, what was the best way to say it . . .
Mom: I thought you just sit there and write?
Me: But write about what? I have to know what I’m writing about. O:
Mom: What are you writing about?
Me: Industry in the first 20-30 years in communist Russia
Mom: OH! I know communism! (She lived through the Vietnam War and felt the first hand effects of Vietnamese communism) They’re stupid! They don’t even know how to use the toilet! They kept all the technology out and they didn’t even know how to use a toilet! They put fish in there! They wondered where the water kept coming from! They’d wash their faces and their hands in there because the government didn’t even tell the communists how to use the toilet! Just write about that! :D
Me: Okay mom.

Lets nevermind the fact that I’ve been chugging DayQuil all day and that I’ve been sick and sniffly all day and humor her for a bit, shall we?

Its not staying up late that makes my body weak. Living with you in this damn house, with this damn family — thats what makes me weak.

So today I tell her about this thing I got in the mail saying that I have $11.03 interest in my bank account, all excited and shit, since its eleven bucks that I didn’t work for. She then decides to bs about how WaMU sucks because –and get this– “because if your balance drops below $100 they charge you three dollars!”. Hokays, so let me tell you about my banking experiences . . . .

I was already informed of the charges that will incur if I break some sort of rule, and I haven’t broken any. I’m aware that I’ll get charged if my balance in my checking account drops below $100 O: I’ve been very careful about watching my bank statements and comparing them to my receipts and making sure that everything is equal. What the hell makes my mom think I’ll let my account drop below $100? What kind of damn bullshit reply is that?

I know she just wants me to move to Citibank because they give you free shit at 7Elevens when you sign up with them and give you a slightly higher interest rate :/ But seriously, the closest Citibank is still too far away whereas the amount of Wamus around here outnumber Citibank by 1:3. So yeah, I’d totally go with Citi, except they’re fricken’ impossible to go to for a girl who doesn’t drive.

So I explain to her that I’m on medications that will slow down my heart. And OMFG, this woman hasn’t shut up about it.

“NOW YOU NEED TO EAT HEALTHIER, YOU KEEP GOING OUT ALL THE TIME TO EAT AND YOU EAT JUNK STUFF. I KEEP TELLIN YOU TO GO TO THE DOCTOR. BLAHBLAHBLAHBLAHBLAH I TOLDYOU SO”

Its like she had that speech all written out for months. And I go:

“Is that why you made me eat that slice of pig fat the other day?” (seriously, she sat there and whined when I refused to eat it. She was going off on how long she took to make it, how she came home from work and made “good food” for me and I’m a jerk for not eating it . .etc)

And homg, another fountain of “you never listen to me’s”. So I walk off and leave. She’s like “KAREN, COME BACK HERE”

And I go “NO, I’M STRAIGHTENING MY HAIR”

because you know something? Thats all the woman ever really complains about anyway.