I'm usually very glib about the fact that I have no health insurance. "It is", I typically say, "what it is", but to be completely honest, it really isn't that simple.
Several years ago, one of my lungs collapsed spontaneously. Just like that. One morning, while chatting, I felt a sensation that I can only describe as feeling like I'd been stabbed in the chest. Because it was the right side not the left, I thought it was gas. [If you're a Trini, you understand that you can have gas just about anywhere and it ain't nothing that a hot cup of tea can't fix.] Well I had my cup of tea but it didn't fix it. Soon thereafter, I developed a nasty cough that would not go away.
I was in Trinidad on vacation at the time all this occurred. I hopped a plane two or three days later (don't do this at home!!) and traveled back to the US. A month later, I had the pain again, followed by several days of nasty coughing. At that point, I went to the doctor. I was working at the time and so was insured. Dr. P gave me a requisition to have a chest x-ray done. His style is to test for the worst thing and then work backwards. He doesn't test indiscriminately, but based on what I'd told him: the pain, the coughing and the now second cycle of same, he felt an x-ray was warranted. I took the script and trotted off. I never went for the x-ray until I had a third episode. Don't do this nonsense at home.
On the morning of my x-ray (May 31st, I think), I worked out with Billy Blanks's Tae-Bo for 45 minutes (because I anticipated it would be nothing serious). I then went to work and at 10:00, went for a chest x-ray.
When you do these tests, they test you and then ask you to sit in the lobby and wait to be called. For the well, one of the medical assistants will bring you your envelope of scans and tell you to take them to your doctor. For the unwell, like me, the radiologist herself comes to the door, still dressed in her lead apron and calls your name. When I heard my name and looked up and saw her, dressed in her lead apron, I knew that this was not good. She said to me, "I've spoken to your doctor, (I'm thinking, "Whatchu talkin' to him for????") and he says you should go to the GWU Emergency Room." For the next ten minutes or so, the only words that came out of my mouth were, "Excuse me?".
I went to GWH where they tried to admit me immediately (Uh no eh. Not happenin'.). I was allowed to go home and pack a bag, but surgery was scheduled for that very Friday - 2 June 2006.
A spontaneous pneumothorax is fairly rare, something like 0.1 episodes per 100,000. They usually occur in tall (check), slender (check), 40+ (check) men (uhhhhh no), and the fact that you've had one puts you at no greater risk for another in the other lung but insurers know best I guess. At least they think they do.
My main point is this: crap happens. Health crap happens. I am a freak about eating well and exercising and still had to have $50,000 worth of emergency (?) lung surgery and now, every insurance company tells me, "Oh you had that thing? Well no, we can't insure you. And you have that other thing? Oh Heavens no! We can't insure you!" My 'other thing' I was born with. It was found when I was 37. It's not a big deal but it is an imperfection. Health insurers don't trust imperfections. You just never know when they might start actin' a fool.
So this health care law is a lifeline to me. I have none of the lifestyle ailments: I don't have diabetes, a weight problem, high blood pressure, gout, or anything else and still I am uninsurable. For those of you who don't get that this can happen to you too, trust me when I say it can.
I am so grateful that I can now get insurance, well first I'll have to get a job but that's a story for another day. That must happen at some point but Bless God, the doctor is now IN, even for me. I could not be happier. Never mind my wrenching sobs, I'm very happy.
Several years ago, one of my lungs collapsed spontaneously. Just like that. One morning, while chatting, I felt a sensation that I can only describe as feeling like I'd been stabbed in the chest. Because it was the right side not the left, I thought it was gas. [If you're a Trini, you understand that you can have gas just about anywhere and it ain't nothing that a hot cup of tea can't fix.] Well I had my cup of tea but it didn't fix it. Soon thereafter, I developed a nasty cough that would not go away.
I was in Trinidad on vacation at the time all this occurred. I hopped a plane two or three days later (don't do this at home!!) and traveled back to the US. A month later, I had the pain again, followed by several days of nasty coughing. At that point, I went to the doctor. I was working at the time and so was insured. Dr. P gave me a requisition to have a chest x-ray done. His style is to test for the worst thing and then work backwards. He doesn't test indiscriminately, but based on what I'd told him: the pain, the coughing and the now second cycle of same, he felt an x-ray was warranted. I took the script and trotted off. I never went for the x-ray until I had a third episode. Don't do this nonsense at home.
On the morning of my x-ray (May 31st, I think), I worked out with Billy Blanks's Tae-Bo for 45 minutes (because I anticipated it would be nothing serious). I then went to work and at 10:00, went for a chest x-ray.
When you do these tests, they test you and then ask you to sit in the lobby and wait to be called. For the well, one of the medical assistants will bring you your envelope of scans and tell you to take them to your doctor. For the unwell, like me, the radiologist herself comes to the door, still dressed in her lead apron and calls your name. When I heard my name and looked up and saw her, dressed in her lead apron, I knew that this was not good. She said to me, "I've spoken to your doctor, (I'm thinking, "Whatchu talkin' to him for????") and he says you should go to the GWU Emergency Room." For the next ten minutes or so, the only words that came out of my mouth were, "Excuse me?".
I went to GWH where they tried to admit me immediately (Uh no eh. Not happenin'.). I was allowed to go home and pack a bag, but surgery was scheduled for that very Friday - 2 June 2006.
A spontaneous pneumothorax is fairly rare, something like 0.1 episodes per 100,000. They usually occur in tall (check), slender (check), 40+ (check) men (uhhhhh no), and the fact that you've had one puts you at no greater risk for another in the other lung but insurers know best I guess. At least they think they do.
My main point is this: crap happens. Health crap happens. I am a freak about eating well and exercising and still had to have $50,000 worth of emergency (?) lung surgery and now, every insurance company tells me, "Oh you had that thing? Well no, we can't insure you. And you have that other thing? Oh Heavens no! We can't insure you!" My 'other thing' I was born with. It was found when I was 37. It's not a big deal but it is an imperfection. Health insurers don't trust imperfections. You just never know when they might start actin' a fool.
So this health care law is a lifeline to me. I have none of the lifestyle ailments: I don't have diabetes, a weight problem, high blood pressure, gout, or anything else and still I am uninsurable. For those of you who don't get that this can happen to you too, trust me when I say it can.
I am so grateful that I can now get insurance, well first I'll have to get a job but that's a story for another day. That must happen at some point but Bless God, the doctor is now IN, even for me. I could not be happier. Never mind my wrenching sobs, I'm very happy.
