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My husband just switched jobs, which is always a headache when it comes to health insurance. If you are lucky enough to be allowed to start right away, with no waiting period, there's still that period of limbo when the old insurance has been cancelled (and man, they don't waste any time doing that) and when your new insurance is in the system.

 

Of course, Olivia needed insulin while we were in limbo. I went to CVS to pick it up and it was going to cost $335.99 for three bottles of insulin. Needless to say, we can't afford that.

 

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I'm a self-proclaimed adventurer. I love to try new things, go to all sorts of places, and I'm always up for a challenge. So college seemed like it'd be one huge adventure in life. But three years ago, I sat down to apply to colleges and had no idea as to what I wanted. Plus there was one major issue looming over me: my health.

 

I've always known that diabetes would keep me a little more cautious than most. But I've never let it stop me. I played sports, I took trips, I even went zip-lining through the jungle last year. Diabetes means that I plan much more than the average person, that I don't just pick up and leave without extreme consideration. I never thought it would hold me back.

 

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It was mid-afternoon as I strolled into the local pharmacy. I needed more Novolog insulin pens and today's trip would prove itself as unsmooth as usual. The diabetic smack in the face did not come for me, however, but for the slightly unsorted diabetic fellow ahead of me.
This day's pharmaceutical quest was not stunted by the feared insurance decline, or the "too early" for a refill drama. Not even the "out of stock" song from the pharmacy tech, or wrong sized needles being slid over the counter. It was simply an, "I'm sorry, I can't help you" interaction.
Unsorted Diabetic: What do you mean I can't refill my syringes here?
Pharmacy Tech: I'm sorry. I have no record of you as an approved customer.
Unsorted Diabetic: I don't usually get my refills here. I was just in the area.
Pharmacy Tech: Some muffled explanation and seemingly helpful recourse. (READ MORE)

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Yesterday, I sat in on a diabetes education training class at one of the local children's hospitals. My mentor suggested participating in order to better understand what a CDE does on a daily basis. That way I would know exactly if I wanted to go forward with this as a career.

 

It was definitely a great experience. Not only did I get to see a close up view of a CDE's job, but I also met some new contacts and opened my eyes to the real world. I don't think CDE is what I want to do, but it's still a possibility.

 

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In my last post, I wrote about fear.  Turned out, my roommate didn't even wait a week.  She left on Friday morning, in a torrent of weird and angry that I won't get into.  I spent the better part of Friday with bloodsugars through the roof.  This continued into the weekend a bit, until I finally got a handle on my own ball of emotions.

 

To add to the diabetes madness, my insurance company has decided to stop covering the Novolog insulin that has worked so well for me for so long.  Well, it's not that they won't cover it, exactly.  It's just that I'm now required to get a prior authorization and pay the third tier cost for the drug.  Clearly, taking on a place meant for two on my own has thrown enough of a wrench in my finances that an additional $75 per month in co-pays is not going to happen.  

 

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I've often mentioned that my diabetes role models in someways mirror the "dos" and "don'ts" of "proper (Type 2) diabetes management". When we are presented with a "what not to do" scenario taken from a real person, in real life, we often call that an "object lesson". 

 

While our original plans for last Sunday were to head into the City (New York City, for those who care) to meet up with other members of the Diabetes Online Community, the combination of short finances and The Other Half's ongoing issues with foot pain and the aftermath of his sciatica attack made those plans a "no-go".

 

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It is often difficult to ask for help. Many of us see it as a sign of weakness, or as giving up our independence. In the case of those of us with diabetes, it may mean coming out of the insulin closet for the first time, exposing ourselves for possible loss of job opportunities, medical insurance, or even medical care. One might say that for some of us, getting the medications we need to live right now puts our future income, and our future health, at risk. On the other hand, sometimes that exposure can point the way for others with similar difficulties to find life-saving solutions. In that sense, those of us who go public with our pancreatically-challenged state are sometimes privileged to be the lightbearers for others' lives.

 

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I don't like to post "downers" on Blogabetes unless I can turn them into cautionary morals, or calls to action (either on our own behalf, or on the behalf of all people with diabetes) -- most of us have too much negativity in our lives already. That said, life has been throwing me the sorts of curve balls that force me to think more of survival, mortality, and quality of life than I am comfortable dealing with.

 

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Other than the expected shock, you never know how you'll react to someone passing away in front of your eyes -- or while you are en route to a critically-ill relative -- until it happens. I don't usually experience grief in terms of torrents of tears. I do experience a degree of depression, and psychological paralysis, and for months afterward (sometimes even years!) I think I see deceased people walking in crowds (they're pretty obviously someone else who looks similar). Right now, logistics are the only thing in my mind.

 

Logistics -- not that my mother has left this world, and my father is in his own Alzheimer's world. How are we going to make sure my sister can continue to survive? How are we going to deal with personal effects? What can we keep, and how do we sell what must be sold? How are we going to foot the unpaid bills of burial -- not to mention whatever emergency-room bills follow?

 

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While I really hate being such a "Debbie Downer" this early in the year, I'm getting extremely frustrated with the red tape surrounding my mother's passing. The basic: we are still waiting on the life insurance to cut loose enough money to bury my mother. While she pre-paid the funeral expenses, she didn't have enough money to pay for a plot — and without the life insurance money, neither do we.

 

I'll spare the details of dealing with government-based life insurance (Mom was a Federal Government retiree). The funeral home has been as helpful as possible (which is actually very helpful, especially in terms of compassion and empathy), but the end result is that we are dealing with businesses, and at the end of the day, they need to report a profit (or at the very least, the lack of a loss).

 

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