Suburban Goddess

D sent me a link yesterday about Houston, followed by a great conversation about the impending state of doom of our country.

I consider myself to be somewhat liberal with strong conservative undertones. (Schizophrenic? Perhaps.)I was raised in Louisiana. D was raised in California.

I wish I’d saved the conversation.  Now, why don’t I have a Maserati yet?

“Is that-”

“Yes.”

“And is that a… donkey?”

“I prefer the term ‘JACKASS’.”

“How come his head is on the butt?”

“Because if I put it UP his butt, you can’t see his face.”

(Laughter) “That’s pretty freaking funny.”

“It makes me feel better.”

The days and nights are starting to run together in an endless stream of insomnia until the world has become a hazy shade of gray. Somewhere along the way I’ve lost all track of time, leaving me wondering what’s real and what’s just a bad dream.  When I do sleep, it’s riddled with nightmares, self-induced by this heightened state of anxiety I can’t seem to break free of.

I just need a moment of peace.  I just need something to change.

You know, nothing makes you feel better after a day of going round and round with healthcare providers, a sick kid, and an insurance company that is completely useless, than getting a scathing email from your X about what a bitch you are and how glad he is that I’m “not his problem anymore.”

Life is grand.

Today, I had to get Alex to a doctor.  She spent all night coughing, and this morning the cough turned wheezy, and came with every other breath.  I knew that one of her friends had pneumonia, so I decided to take her in today instead of waiting for Monday.

When I went to the first clinic, I placed down my insurance card (Alex is still covered under Chip’s insurance).  The secretary looked at it quickly, then shoved it back.  “Does she have a primary care physician?”

“Yes, but they’re closed today.  I need someone to look at her today.”

“We can’t see her here; we’re a primary care facility, and she already has a primary care physician.”

“Yes, but they’re CLOSED.”  I said patiently.  Behind me, Alex went into another coughing fit.  “I’ll just pay out of pocket then.  Someone needs to look at her.”

“Sorry, ma’am.  We can’t help you.”  And then she rudely closed the glass in my face, leaving me with a sick three year old and an insurance card in hand.  In complete disbelief, I walked out, heading to another clinic further up the street.  As soon as I pulled the card out there, the nurse started to shake her head.

“Sorry, ma’am.  We don’t accept Cigna.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said incredulously. “Then let me put it on my credit card.”

“Sorry, ma’am.  We’re a private facility; we require insurance.”  Again, Alex coughed pitifully, even covering her cough with her little hand.  (I’m so proud of her when she does this.)  After arguing with the nurse for a few more moments, I was rewarded with another glass door to the face.

I see lobbying in my future.  I HAVE insurance, and can’t get healthcare.  This is F-ing ridiculous with a capital F.

Furious and frustrated, I headed back out to the car when my phone rang.  I had a mini-meltdown, explaining my situation to the person on the other end who told me of a clinic on the other side of town, by my old house.  He assured me I wouldn’t have any trouble there, so I loaded up Alex for the THIRD time and headed to another clinic.  Along the way, I called the X to inform him of what was going on with his kid.

“I want to talk about changing Alex over to my insurance,” I started, explaining the situation.  At this point, I don’t know what went wrong, but he kept telling me he never had a problem with his insurance.  Every time I would try to explain it to him, he would tell me about some clinic next to his house that he went to.

“Have you taken HER there?”

“Well, no, but I’ve never had a problem.”  Now, I know this is Chip’s idea of being helpful, but given the frustration level, the heat, the threat of having to come out of pocket for this whole excursion, and his ability to make ANYTHING about him…. well, I’d had enough.  Alex was crying and coughing, so I tersely cut the conversation short and hung up.  The phone started to ring, but I didn’t answer; I knew I would say many, many things that I would regret later.

Luckily, my friend was right; the clinic took us immediately.  Two chest x-rays later, the doctor told me she had bronchitis.  Again.  So they hooked her up to a breathing machine (which she handles like a champ), and she sat quietly, breathing in deeply.  A few moments into it, she pointed behind me with a smile.  My friend had stopped by to check on us.

For a moment, I was overwhelmed with emotion.  I cannot say that I do not have people here in Texas anymore.  So many people have done so much for me, so much that I never expected.  I lost so much faith in people in my divorce, because so many people lied to me or weren’t there for me… that I’d forgotten how nice it was when people DIDN’T do those things.  He gave me a big hug and planted a kiss on Alex’s head before continuing on his way, leaving me to re-evaluate my opinion of the state of the human condition.

Perhaps they’re all not steaming piles of crap.

But speaking of, I finally checked my voicemail to find a message that I was “F’ing RUDE for hanging up.” Granted, I could have been nicer, but it was 100 degrees, I’d just been rejected by two clinics, and my daughter is crying and coughing and all I wanted was a little help from the child’s father. I tried to call the  X back repeatedly (after I’d calmed down) to tell him the state of his daughter.  In typical ball-less fashion, he will not answer his phone or return my calls.  That infuriates me more than anything; what if Alex was in the hospital?  What if it was something REALLY important?  I only call him about Alex or things concerning Alex; his expectations of me being “nice” when he refuses to listen to what I’m saying is delusional.

His relationship with his other X was the one I kept looking to; I’d hoped that someday he & I could get to that friendly state.  Today was definitely a step in the WRONG direction.  I’ve never wanted to go Carrie Underwood on someone so bad my entire life.

Between the insurance and the X, it’s amazing that I kept the Redneck in the box today…. but she was clawing, scratching, and cussing like you wouldn’t believe. In the meantime, $700 out of pocket later, my daughter is finally resting peacefully, able to sleep for a little while without her tiny body being racked by coughing fits.  And to me, that is worth any amount of crap I have to put up with.

I’ve been watching a lot of reports on the news lately about how financial stress is taking a toll on the your health.

No kidding.

Since I lost my largest freelance client, money has been tight. I’m still waiting for the photography business to start turning a profit; we’re making enough to cover expenses, but that’s it at the moment. In the meantime, I’ve been looking for ways to make a little money on the side. I’ve also started to find ways to save money, by cutting WAY back on eating out, finding creative ways to entertain Alex, and carpooling to save money on gas.

When did I become so responsible?

But there is the occasional splurge that I cannot live without. The first and foremost; my new jetski. This thing has saved my sanity already more times than I can count. Yesterday, amidst a flurry of deadlines, personal crisis, emotional blahs and general depression, I launched out on the lake and ran away from my life. After ten minutes, I let off the throttle and just coasted to a stop in the middle of the lake.

The smell of briny water and sunscreen in the air, coupled with the comforting roll of the small waves reminded me of home. I closed my eyes and let the sun warm my skin, listening to the quiet sounds of the still lake; a boat in the distance, the screech of a bird, the breeze in my ears. A far cry from the hustle of work, the insane schedule, the animated toddler, the stress of single motherhood…. here I was, completely visible in the middle of the lake, yet I felt as if I’d disappeared.

And it was wonderful. For just a moment, to BE…. without anxiety.

While I was trying to get Alex out of her carseat the other day, she made a very loud “PPPFFFFFFTTTTT” noise.  My co-worker, whom I carpool with, looked at her and laughed.

“Alex, did you just toot?”

“No, I FARTED.”

“I think we can finally settle this Nikon vs. Canon thing.”

“And?”

“Nikon is infinately better.  Hands down.  No contest.”

“How do you figure that?”

“Because we have Ashton Kutcher as a spokesperson.  We totally rock.”

“Oh, thank goodness… for a moment there I thought you were serious.”

I’ve learned to stop asking the question, “What else can go wrong?” because it seems lately that I keep getting an answer. So instead, I’m trying to focus on the good things in my life, appreciate the things I have, and let God take care of the rest.

The past two years have been the hardest of my life… even when I was going through my first divorce, I don’t remember struggling quite so much. Perhaps that’s because I stayed in an alcohol-fueled coma for six months, and I didn’t have to worry about the repercussions of my actions on my child. This time, I wasn’t able to bury my sorrows in a bottle. I was forced to hit reality with my eyes wide open and completely vulnerable to ever blow that came my way. And while it’s been a very long, and very hard road, I know it’s made me a much stronger person. I’d like to think I’ve finally grown up, and there are many of those in the world who thought they would never see the day.

To be honest, I didn’t either.

“One day at a time” takes on a whole new meaning now. With each passing moment, I’m becoming more aware of all the wonderful people in my life. I want to tell them all “thank you,” for your support, your thoughts, your prayers, and your love.

Note to self: Do NOT insult the oil & gas industry when you live in a city inhabited mostly by oil & gas people.

Damn.

I posted the “Higher Gas Price” post on my Chronicle blog (because I’m lazy, and I didn’t feel like coming up with something else to write about), and the response was overwhelming.  Overall, I was blasted for being a irresponsible mother, a glutton, a wasteful spender, a selfish American, a poor planner, and a few other things that have absolutely nothing to do with the post.  (How does me complaining about high gas prices insinuate that I’m a loose woman? If only I’d kept my legs CLOSED, then we would all be back to $2 a gallon!)

I have to say, I’ve been blogging for quite some time, and occasionally I’ll have a stray wander onto the Goddess site who will flame me for no other reason than they don’t like the rotation of the planet… and it’s ALL MY FAULT.  But the amount of hate mail since I’ve been at the Chronicle is overwhelming at times.  There are some seriously opinionated people out there.  While I feel that everyone is entitled to their opinion, I also feel we are entitled to disagree, and I would never delete a post that disagrees with my point of view.  In fact, I encourage it; I think debate fosters new ideas, and forces people to defend their position with fact instead of emotion.  However, I have to draw the line when you resort to a personal attack simply because you can’t put forth the effort to go educate yourself.

The lack of tolerance in today’s world seems to be decreasing sharply in a time where the only solution to our problems is to communicate.  And that’s a scary thing.