The United States Healthcare System

The healthcare system in the United States is one piece of S***.


Before I start ranting, let me give you a little bit of a back story. Sunday night, I felt a little bit of back pain that I didn’t pay much attention to. On Monday morning I woke up with a more pain. It was a sore like pain. But only when I moved or twisted back and forth, I would feel a sharp pain in my upper back on only one side. If that didn’t make sense, it’s basically where I have my kidney at, that’s where.

I didn’t work Monday (because there was no work) so I rested the whole day in the hopes that the “soreness” would go away. I even put an Icy-Hot on it. Nothing happened. That’s when I knew things were a little more serious. Tuesday morning, I went to work but I was still feeling the pain as I was up and around. I did a half day and decided to go to the doctor after.

At the doctor I found out that my healthcare insurance had been suspended or inactive since last year in August (great). I still saw the doctor anyway and had to pay for the visit but I didn’t really care, I needed to know what was wrong with me.

Here’s where my rant will start. You are warned. Since, I do not have healthcare insurance, I can’t know my diagnosis. Once the doctor asked me all the normal questions and I did a urine test he concluded it could be one of two things. A kidney stone, or some type of muscle thing that I can’t really pronounce so I don’t remember it.

(Ok, this is where the rant actually starts). He asked me what I wanted to do. HE ASKED ME. After seeing that I didn’t have insurance he asked me what I wanted to do. I mean sure, he gets some compassionate points for caring about my financial status and being concerned on how I will be paying for things. But since when do you go to the doctors and get asked what you want them to do with you? Um fix me.

This is what he asked me; did I want to pay for an ultra sound to find out the root of the issue, or did I just want to rule it as the “muscle issue thing” and take some pills for it. The “muscle issue thing” would have been a cheaper option. But would it have been an actual correct diagnosis? NO. I just told him to put in the order for the ultra sound and I would figure out the insurance later.

It sucks that everything is so dam expensive that doctors are willing to misdiagnosis a person to help them out. Its insane. Pills too. He asked if I wanted pain pills. He even informed me that it would be cheaper to just get them over the counter. Gee thanks.

Well, I went to apply for some healthcare insurance and GUESS what they told me. When I asked how I could reactive it they told me that I had reapply. REAPPLY. The process would take 30 to 40 days to response. OH, ok, let me just pause the boulder that’s lodged in between my organs until I have healthcare. I told them that I needed it sooner and the girl LITERALLY said, “well, you should always make sure your information is up to date so things like this wont happen.” What the hell am I supposed to do with that piece of advice? She had a point but I wasn’t asking for her opinion.

So what now? I have no healthcare, I have no money because my job is crumbing to the ground, and I have this pain in my back that’s laughing at me. I don’t know what I have. WebMD is my best bet right now. According to them I have kidney stones. I just pray that its not a big deal because from what I heard, these little stones cause major pain.

And, (I just want to add before I’m done here), I don’t think I’ll even apply to healthcare right now. Why? They ask all these questions. Like who lives with you? How much they make? How much you make? All that BS. HELLO, excuse me, if I am applying for this its because I CAN’T pay for it myself bro. What do you care what the people I live with make? They aren’t going to pay for my medical bills. WTF. (That actually made me giggle, it sounds so stupid).

Then also, I most likely wont have a job in a couple of months. So if I am denied, I’ll have to do the whole process over again. It’s all a big mess I tell you. This is USA. Right? Wait let me check . . .  yes it is. I told my friend about it to blow off some steam. His response was, “guess we’re moving to Canada.”

 

 

Do Not Disturb

What’s the opposite of writers block? I think I have that. I want to type until my fingers bleed. Maybe not as much but sort of like that. I have all these thoughts in my head I want to spit out onto the blank canvas on my screen. But, I wont. It would be too messy and honestly no one is down to listen to all that nonsense. Plus no one would understand it either way.

I was thinking though I would at least let one thought out into the world. One can’t do that much damage can it?

My phone has been through hell and back more than twice and ever since then when ever it vibrates it makes this crazy vibration sound that people think its a sex toy. I’m not kidding. The freaking thing can be heard in my pocket clearer than then the ring tone. It’s been an issue for a while. Anyone who has yet to hear it I have to explain to them that my phone has been through some serious things and that’s its way of screaming for attention, before they get the wrong impression of me.

To fix this issue I have resorted in using the Do Not Disturb function on my phone. Let me tell you something. This was function was made by the Leave Me The F*** Alone Gods. At first I did it because I was tired of hearing the buzzing sound that my phone made. But then, I was liberated.  I was freed. I noticed that I wasn’t always reaching for my phone 24/7. I even stopped feeling my pocket thinking that my phone had gone off when in reality hadn’t, (you know what I’m talking about right? When you think your phone vibrates when in fact it hasn’t, its just your brain playing mind tricks on you).

It’s been over a week since I started doing this and I have to say that my life has gotten way much better. There are functions on this setting that will allow someone to get through this firewall, if there actually is an emergency. So there really isn’t any reason that I have for turning it back on.

When I need to text someone, I will. If they text me, now I will text them back the next time I pick up my phone, not when my phone is having a full on vibration seizure. Its actually really therapeutic. I highly recommend it, if you’re not that addicted to getting notifications, or you are one of those peoples that needs to know when they get a text or else they will have an asthma attack if they don’t reply within 5 seconds, if that’s the case, I think you got an issue to be honest.

 

Summer

In case you didn’t know or you’ve been binge watching a show on Netflix, like I have, you haven’t yet looked outside your window or at a calendar and seen that Summer is approaching. Last year my summer was very, epic, (some would say). I had the whole college frat boy experience, without actually going to college, or being a frat boy. There was party week after week. There was “get togethers” , alcohol, and so many other things that I can’t remember because my memory is foggy.

I don’t know about you but for me summer always starts Memorial day weekend. Which is basically a month before “actual” summer starts. Look, I didn’t make the rules, and I don’t really follow them either, but uh, never mind, lost my train of thought.

Anyway, what I am getting at is that I am not ready for summer. All the graduations are coming up. They basically kick off the start of summer. I’m not the most popular of people but I do know people that know people, which gets me an invite to these parties. Parties I do not want to attend. I know that makes me sound like a douche bag but think what you want.

Don’t ask me why I don’t want to go. Stop. I wont tell you. Ok, I’ll tell you. Most of the parties I went last year were “church parties”. And no they weren’t boring. I know the thought of a church party sounds like we sat in a circle and read Bible stories while we asked God to forgive us for having fun. If you think that’s that’s the case, you have a real bad interpretation of religion. Or at least my religion.

They were fun. Nothing crazy, but at the same time it was super chill. I enjoyed them. I went to graduation parties, baby showers, and some parties that really didn’t have a reason but just to have fun and dance. It was a lit time fam. (Eww). But I was different back then. I honestly don’t know who I was. I don’t know who I am now so there’s that too. Where was I going with this?  I don’t know.

All I’m trying to say I think is that I am not ready for summer. (Think I said that twice now). The going out, the parties, the whole being social aspect of it. It just bugs me. I know maybe I’ll change my mind later and come back writing about being the center of attention, but for now that’s where my state of mind is at the moment.

My best friend is acting weird. The Elders in my church want me to be someone they think I want to be, I need to look for a new job, my mom is concerned that I’m not mentally stable, and my friends outside of church still believe I’m that rebel that did all those crazy outrageous things last year. Who is going to tell all these people that they are wrong? Not I. When I do tell them that I am not that, they will ask what I am and I don’t know.

That’s mainly the real reason behind my not wanting to go to these parties. If I go, I’m exposed to being asked about my “spiritual goals” or awkward questions about my ex, or worse, seeing her there and having to speak to her. If I hang out with my non-religious friends they’ll start to think that Party Peter is back, and I don’t want to give them the wrong impression.

So summer, if you’re listening, please postpone your flight. I’m not ready.

 

W.A.R.N.

I . . . didn’t go to work today. Don’t roll your eyes at me. I know I sound like a broken record. But, this time it wasn’t because of my anxiety or because I literally hate everyone at work. No, this time it was different. There is actual justification. Well, not that anxiety isn’t justification, but you know what I mean, well you don’t, but you will.

My job has yet to let anyone know who will be staying and who will be kicked out do to the downsizing. There was a note posted from headquarters, which if you actually pay attention to, it can give you valuable information. The letter said the basic info that we all already knew. The cut backs, the business move to the east coast and all that other formal stuff. But, it also said when people would be let go.

It said that the “terminations” would take place during July 22nd to August 22nd. Since the law in California states that your employer has to give you a 60 day notice before termination, one can conclude that the WARN letters will be handed out this week, starting the 22nd.

Last week they were asking everyone what they wanted to do. Be put on the list to possibly stay or be put on the list to be laid off. I chose to be laid off. At least I hope I am. Who knows how much longer the company will last even when the downsize happens. Plus this is a great way to get references and recommendations, plus help with my resume. (They said they would provide it , so I hope they do).

Since then, work has gotten slower and slower. I think that its going to be like this until the place comes down. You know its funny, I was telling a friend, (this might sound morbid, so cover your virgin little ears if you don’t want to hear) but, all those times that you wish your job would come down in flames? (Or was it just me?). This is like that. Not literal of course, but in a way its symbolic, at least for me it is.

Anyway, I got sent home early on Friday because of the lack of work. When I was home my boss texted me and asked if I wanted to stay home for Monday since there was still not going to be any work. I’ve never texted anyone faster in my life when I told her that I would love to stay home. Sucks that I have to go back now though.

So, that’s why I didn’t go to work today. I know, very long unnecessary explanation but I felt the need to elaborate a little. I could have just said that my boss asked if I wanted the day off, but then again, there would be no post, would there? *wink*

I Was My Own Therapist . . . And This Is What Happened

The shower is such a therapeutic place. Have you ever been in the bathroom just scrub-a-dub-dubbing, cleaning your beautiful body, and all of your best thoughts come up to the surface? I swear the shower is where all inventions have been thought of. Or, when you’re in there and you think back to a conversation you had that day and you think of a better response or even better comeback you could have said? Maybe that’s where all those great well known speeches have come from. The shower.

Ok, well, I was in there and I was talking to myself. You know, just checking in with my inner being. (Don’t know why the shower though, but I was also thinking maybe its because we’re all naked and we’re the most vulnerable that way, and our thoughts just come out? Not sure, anyways off topic). I have been debating on seeing some one. Not romantically, I mean for my brain. And then I told myself, why don’t you just help yourself? You know? Get to know yourself. Be your own therapist. It’s cheaper.

That’s exactly what I did. And this is how the first session went.


Therapist Me: Please sit down. (Yes I told my self to sit down, don’t judge me).

Actual Me: Thank you.

Therapist Me: You’re welcome. How are you?

Actual Me: I’m good.

Therapist Me: I’m glad. How have you been?

Actual Me: I’ve been ok.

Therapist Me: Just ok?

Actual Me: Yes. Last week I had a little meltdown.

Therapist Me: Do you want to talk about it?

Actual Me: I don’t even know where to start.

Therapist Me: What did you feel?

Actual Me: I felt sad. I think.

Therapist Me: You think?

Actual Me: I wasn’t feeling like I could handle life at the moment.

Therapist Me: Is there something in your life that you are having a hard time with?

Actual Me: There are many things. Too many things, and I don’t know what to do. I didn’t know what to do.

Therapist Me: Do you remember what started it?

Actual Me: No. I was fine, at least I thought I was.

Therapist Me: What do you think changed?

Actual Me: I’m not sure. I woke up Friday. Everything was fine. But it just changed.

Therapist Me: What were you thinking about?

Actual Me: My friend. And something that happened Thursday.

Therapist Me: Are those two connected?

Actual Me: Some how. My friend and I are in this religion. I like it. But sometimes I feel like they want me to be someone I am not. They have these plans for me. They want me to be like my friend.

Therapist Me: Who is your friend?

Actual Me: He is a “servant” at my church. It’s some one just under an “Elder”. He has responsibilities and stuff. But to get that tittle, or um, they call it a “privilege”, you have to be a very spiritual person.

Therapist Me: He’s very spiritual.

Actual Me: He is. He does everything he is supposed to and always follows the rules. Since we are friends, I think everyone just assumes that I will walk in his foot steps and be just like him. But I can’t.

Therapist Me: You don’t have to.

Actual Me: I do.

Therapist Me: Why do you think you have to?

Actual Me: They all want me to.

Therapist Me: Who is they?

Actual Me: My mom, my church friends, the Elders in the congregation, and basically all the other people that go.

Therapist Me: You mentioned Thursday. What happened that day?

Actual Me: One of the elders had been texting me that he and another wanted to come to my house and just chat with me. But I already knew what they were going to say.

Therapist Me: How did you know?

Actual Me: They have gone before.

Therapist Me: What do they talk to you about?

Actual Me: Usually its because I am doing everything in my church I am supposed to and then suddenly I lag or don’t really do that much as I was, and they want to check up on me and read me Bible texts.

Therapist Me: Sounds like they care about your spirituality.

Actual Me: They do. But, I feel pressured at times. I was just not in a good mood. Or just scared. I don’t really know. So I went out with a friend instead and told them I wasn’t going to make it. They still went to my house but I wasn’t there.

Therapist Me: A different friend than the one we are talking about?

Actual Me: Yes. She doesn’t go to my church. She’s actually not in the religion at all. I have a couple of friends that aren’t in my religion. I’m not really supposed to talk to them because they are considered a bad influence.

Therapist Me: Are they bad people?

Actual Me: No

Therapist Me: Why are they a bad influence?

Actual Me: They don’t believe what I believe, so they are considered bad. They might persuade me to do something that goes against what the Bible teaches.

Therapist Me: Do you like being around these friends?

Actual Me: I do.

Therapist Me: You are in this religion. You have friends there. Your mom is there. You like it. But you also have other friends that do not attend, who you like to be with but are told not to. The, “Elders”, as you said, want you to assume this role they have planned out for you but you don’t want it. (Pause) What would happen if you just told them? You’re not leaving the church, you’re are just not assuming any responsibilities.

Actual Me: That’s not a good thing to do. It will look as if I don’t want to be there. Or I don’t want to help out with what they ask me to. They will think I don’t want to grow within the church, and they will just be disappointed.

Therapist Me: Why don’t you try it. If they care about you so much they will understand. Try to find a way to tell them that it is bothering you that they are trying to compare you to your friend. I’m sure they will understand.

Actual Me: I can try.

Therapist Me: Pretend I am one of the Elders. I ask you about your spiritual goals. What would you say?

Actual Me: Uh, mmm. Some times I feel like everyone has a set picture of who they want me to be, but no one asks me how I feel about it.

Therapist Me: Go on.

Actual Me: I feel like you want me to be just like XXXXX. But I can’t. I know saying it sounds so bad. But that doesn’t mean I hate God, it doesn’t mean that I hate the religion. It just means I can’t be what everyone already expects me to be. I’m sorry.

Therapist Me: Good. How do you feel?

Actual Me: Nervous but at the same time a little better.

Therapist Me: Why don’t you practice saying that over and over. Think of other ways you can say it, so when the time comes, you can express yourself and let them know how you feel. How they are making you feel.

Actual Me: I will. Thank you.

Therapist Me: You’re welcome, that is what I am here for


 

In all seriousness. This helped a lot. I don’t know if talking to myself like this makes me a total loon, but if so, it doesn’t matter, it helped.