Suburban Goddess

A childhood friend of mine has a serious problem. Her mother fell down the front steps of her trailer last Tuesday and broke her leg.

A week later, doctors still refuse to see her.

The problem is, this lady doesn’t have health insurance. If this doesn’t open your eyes to the value of health insurance, nothing will. The woman is not on Social Security, welfare, Medicaid, Medicare, disability, NOTHING. She has lived her life quietly and peacefully for years in her home nestled back from the road, hidden by a thick brush of trees. So she’s leaning over to feed her cat and falls on the steps, breaking both the bones in her shin (compound fracture). She immediately called her daughter who was visiting for the week from Dallas (did I mention this is in Louisiana?) who rushed her to the hospital. It was there that the ordeal began in earnest.

As soon as the hospital realized she didn’t have health insurance, all plans to set her leg stopped. They splinted the leg, but x-rays showed that both the bones were broken, and one doctor told my friend that her mother would have to have it set surgically. It is an expensive surgery with a long recovery time. But since Katrina, they weren’t equipped to handle charity cases. So they sent them to New Orleans. Same story. New Orleans sent them to Houma. Houma sent them to Baton Rouge. Baton Rouge sent them home until Tuesday. All the while, this poor woman is being shuttled around, pulled in and out of cars, led to and from various waiting rooms where she would wait for HOURS just to be turned away…. As of today, the woman still has a compound fracture tied to a board and a small bottle of pain meds. She cannot move her leg without unspeakable pain. If she tries, she could damage tissue around the bones, leading to even more serious problems.

What the HELL is going on here?

In an effort to be noble and proud, this woman lived in poverty without looking to the government for handouts; she knew her situation was her doing and she lived with the consequences. She could have easily rode the system as so many others have, but she didn’t. So now, in a time of DIRE need, she is turned away by the very system set up to protect our less fortunate.

What the HELL is going on here?

Have we become so paralyzed by lawsuits and greed that we cannot help those who truly need it? It is OBVIOUS that her LEG IS BROKEN. Is SOMEONE going to step up and do the RIGHT thing, or just let this woman suffer in agony for the sake of an insurance claim? Thank God this woman knew my parents, who have taken her into their home, given her their bed, and have done everything they can to help her daughter try to find the help she desparately needs.

How do you, in good conscience, look into the eyes of another human being who is in extreme pain, and walk away? Isn’t that why you become a doctor to begin with, to help people? Or does that just apply to people with money?

“You always make the littlest things seem SO BIG.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like when you went to the doctor and came back with four medications. One of them for ASTHMA… like you could DIE any day..”

I laughed. “I guess you’re right. But who wants to hear, ‘I’m phlemy?’”

Yesterday I began in earnest the daunting task of shopping for a new house.

My very own, all mine, completely-responsible-for-all-the-bills-all-by-myself house.

Talk about a nervous wreck.

It is at this point that I realize exactly how SPOILED I am. I’ve always had somebody to do these things for me. I just had to keep it clean. But now, I find myself in unfamiliar territory. How do I know if it’s a good house? I mean, I can’t buy a house just because it has a garden tub; it has to be able to FUNCTION. Now I get to worry about things like the roof, the AC unit, and my personal favorite; mortgage insurance. WTF is mortgage insurance?

I find my brain reeling with all the new financial terms that I know I’ve heard before, but now have to comprehend. PMI. Amortization. Apprasals. Inspections. Realtor Commisions. Homeowners Associations. Every one of those terms has some masssive dollar amount attached to it, and if you’re not paying close attention, they’ll tack a few more on there just to see if you’ll catch it. It’s called the “Idiot Tax.”

Adding to the financial stress is the timeline; I have about a two week window to find the house so that I will have time to paint the house & make any decorating changes I choose before I have to move into it. Someone asked me why I won’t just rent for a couple months, to which I must answer, hell no. Not because I’m opposed to renting as much as I’m just opposed to moving TWICE. It’s bad enough I’m having to move ONCE, since it is against my will. But I can’t seem to convince my soon to be ex-husband to continue to pay for the house so that I can live in it. Can you imagine? Selfish bastard.

So, Day 1 was unsuccessful, but promising. It’s nice to know that I can afford what I want, as long as I keep my eye on the financial vultures. And by the end of this experience, I’ll have learned quite a few valuable lessons, one being the most important:

I can do it.

I realized the other day while talking to one of the neighborhood kids, that I am no longer young.

It was kinda scary. The realization hit me with great force; partying & fashion are no longer part of my daily agenda. At least, not the way they used to be. Fashion now consists of being happy that I managed to get the laundry done this week so I have something CLEAN to wear to work. And partying now involves lots of toddlers, party hats & birthday cake.

But inside, I don’t feel old. In fact, on many days, I feel like I’m masqurading as an adult. I make grown-up decisions, I do grown-up things, but it all still has the feel of “playing house” sometimes. Granted, when you were playing house, you never factored in how the electricity bill was going to blow your monthly budget, but it’s not THAT much different. I still feel a sense of accomplishment when I manage to get all the bills out on time without a late fee.

Yea, me!

“You signed up for WHAT?”

“A MARATHON. You know, where people RUN.”

“I know what a marathon is, duh, I just can’t imagine you running one.”

“Why not? I run all the time.”

“I know, but I just remember a time when the only way to get you to run was chase you with bugs.”

.. but I was too lazy to pull out the laptop. I have no other excuse. Pure, unadulterated laziness.

It felt pretty good.