Health Scare

I have lost my health coverage and the coverage for my family.  Suffice it say that our coverage, like many others, is contingent on employment and as freelancers, at present, the husband and I are entirely dependent on an employer's interest in covering our family of four or on coverage garnered by companies like e-surance and other very expensive options.  All the talk about healthcare ballied around in the political arena is not theoretical for us.  It is a reality.  Having lived abroad for years in a tiny island nation that many would say could not even be compared to the vastness, awesomeness, greatness of America would be humbled to know that in that tiny country, its populace is covered by government insurance for basic preventative, managing, and sick coverage and the cost of medications, tests, and even home visits is well below the cost of any of these things in the US.

Born and raised in France, my husband is dumbfounded at our situation.  It seems that just when we are down, struggling to right ourselves, our basic need to feel protected should we or worse, our children, come to harm or injury is a privilege and not a right.  Pulling the belt tighter, we have to make difficult choices, and coverage for a family of four comes in close to $1000 per month.  We're going to pay it, we have to, and that payment does not even guarantee that should we need to see a specialist or a dentist or get a particular medicine we will not have additional expenses.  That sets my nerves on fire.

In recent years, I have discovered that I am prone to severe panic attacks, the latest culminating in a visit to a local hospital where I could not be told that I was not having a heart attack.  I wasn't.  I was having an anxiety attack.  Two months later with the loss of our coverage, the start of school, relative uncertainty, and the billing that came from that hospital visit looming, I had another anxiety attack.  This one occurred last night.  I gasped suddenly and began crying uncontrollably, sobbing really, feeling my imminent demise and imagining my children and husband missing me.  I could not contain the energy and it soon overtook me.  It wouldn't stop.  I couldn't break it.  I had to stand up and move to convince myself I was still on this earthly plane.  The rest of the night was spent in my husband's arms, crying occasionally, believing that I might not wake up in the morning, that it was a real possibility, and mourning along with my children and husband, the loss of me.

I called my sister late at night to tell her that I'd had another attack and she said that I must do something different than I am doing.  That continuing on with my life as it was would bring more of this anxiety and panic.  She told me that I must get some meds, some counsel (which I'd been doing but was not covered by my insurance), and I balked.  I told her that until we were covered again I would not be able to do anything to take care of myself.  The pain of that truth and realization rocked me to the core.  I would not take care of me because I could not afford to take care of me.  Because my health and the health of my family was not covered.  It was hard not to feel unloved, unprotected, uncared for in that moment.  And I, as I often do in my OCD, semi-hypochondriacal way, then convinced myself of various other illnesses that would not be tended to, felt every pain in my body as a potential untreated threat.

I have no doubt that the hubby and I will weather this, will make it right.  We have in the past.  Both of us are ants, not grasshoppers, and we store and scrimp and save and budget, so we will find a way to be covered, get back to full-time employ, keep the girls from the stresses that are meant only for adults.  But I cannot help but think of other uninsured, unprotected families who do not have what we do, who fear check ups, well visits, broken bones, expensive medications for asthma (like our youngest has), epi-pens (like our oldest has), or desperate need for anti-anxiety medications or therapy (like I need) and choose to go without or worse, must.  The cycle of worry, of panic, of fear brought on by our daily lives has brought me to near mental breakdown and in this great country I am unable, without spending the money we will need to live, to make taking care of myself, as simple as it should be, a priority.


(c) Copyright 2012.  Repatriated Mama: Back to the Suburban Grind.