A different lens

In therapy terms, we often try to look at experiences, thoughts, etc., through different "lenses." Kind of like looking at things from a different perspective, a different point of view.

I had a training late last week at Children's hospital. While the training provided some profound learning, my presence in the hospital provided a profound experience seeing things through a different lens.

As a kid, I spent my fair share of time in Children's hospital. In addition to the auto-immune disease I had, about which I have previously blogged, I had several surgeries for a malformed hip, one that required that I stay in the hospital for 2 weeks recovering. So, I know the place well, from a kid's perspective. Walking into Children's, or any hospital, for that matter, brings back a lot of memories, good and bad.

What I didn't understand, until last week, was the experience of walking into a kid's hospital as a parent. I wasn't there for any medical reason- just a training related to work. But as I went to the cafeteria for lunch, I could not ignore the kids in wagons, pulling IV poles, in hospital gowns. The feeling I had in my gut is hard to explain.

Sick. I felt sick. Because I know how much I love Kinnie, how much I want to protect her, how there is nothing more important in my world than her well-being. And, I know that these kids' parents feel the same. And they must feel so helpless, watching their kids fight serious illness. I wanted to cry for them. And, I admire them. I can only imagine the strength it requires to be there for your kid through such a thing.

We have been blessed, in Kinnie's first 8 and a half months. Beside several colds, she has been healthy and happy. I'll admit there are times when I have had the "what if" thought. And just imagining any illness, injury, could bring me to my knees.

I stop those thoughts, though. If I get stuck in worry and fear, I cannot be present. And each moment that I am present with my daughter is magic. I am grateful for every one.

Health insurance

I wonder if it isn't quite appropriate to use my "Mamacita" blog to vent my feelings about social issues. Ultimately, I suppose that my views on issues are a part of being a Mama.

So, here's the thing. In Mexico, because I was employed, I had access to "public" heath care. Meaning, I could obtain care, any care, free. The clinics were a bit rundown, and I think the wait for certain testing could be long. But, it was free. Brian and I opted to use a private doctor for my prenatal care, which cost $550 MX per visit- about $40 US- including a full exam and ultrasound. That wasn't a copay. That was the cost of the appointment. My doctor was located in a new, state-of-the-art, hospital.

Our plan to return to the States for Kinnie's birth presented a lot of concern about how we would pay for it. We knew I would probably have a c-section. If we stayed in Mexico, it would have cost about $1000 US if we had it done by the private doctor- it would have been free if we used the public system. After working for pesos for almost a year, we did not have the money to pay the tens of thousands out of pocket that a c-section would cost in the States.

I researched options. I discovered that I may qualify for Medicaid, and when we got home, we applied. I was approved. It was such a relief. I knew that whatever care I needed, and any care Kinnie needed, would be covered.

I was aware of the stigma. When I would walk into the doctor's office, or to get a prescription, I felt myself wanting to discuss my insurance in a whisper. What do you think when you see someone who is using Medicaid? I never had anyone judge me openly, but am aware of the judgments often made. Ultimately, I decided to carry my head high. I had paid into the system, and was truly in need of the care offered through the government. And it covered everything. I paid nothing out of pocket for Kinnie's birth.

Now that Brian and I are gainfully employed, we have "real" health insurance. I went to the pharmacy yesterday to pick up my thyroid medication. I have had hypothyroidism for several years. It's no big deal, and has been stable since I was diagnosed with the daily use of medication.

Because of the stability of my condition, my doctor has prescribed 90 days of medication for each refill. When I was using Medicaid, this presented no problem. However, when I picked up my script yesterday, I was informed that my new insurance would only pay for 30 days at a time. The copay for the 30 days would be $8. The pharmacy had filled the 90 days, and for the sake of ease, I asked if I could just pay out of pocket for the 90 days. The cost, without using my insurance, was $26. So, If I go back every 30 days, and pay just my copay, I'll save $2 over 3 months. Hardly worth the gas.

It gets worse. We were sorting through our mail last night, and found a letter from our new insurance company. Mind you, this is a major insurance company in Colorado. The letter indicated that if we have any prescriptions for which we want a 90 day supply, we must first fill a 30 day supply 2 times through the insurance company's mail-order system, and then we can begin to obtain 90 day prescriptions through the same mail-order process. And, they'll only charge us 2 copays for the 90 day script.

What?!?! Who makes these rules??? Why in the world does it need to be so complicated? Seriously? I just can't believe it. Clearly, there needs to be a change. If my doctor believes it's okay for me to have a 90 day supply, because my condition has been stable for years, why should I have to play games with the insurance company to obtain that prescription?

I hope for an improvement to our system. It is ridiculous. To think that this is the process one has to go through in order to obtain a simple, inexpensive medication. What would it be like if we needed something for a much for significant condition? Perhaps when Kinnie is grown, we will have had the ability to simplify. I hope.

Cold season

Kinnie has a cold. This is her third or fourth in her life. Seems like a lot to me, since she's been here for only eight months. This, I think, is the worst so far. Of course, I have probably thought that of each as it has come along. In the infancy of my life as a mother, there is nothing worse than knowing my baby doesn't feel well, and having little to offer for comfort. We were up a couple times last night, which hasn't happened for almost 6 months.

I, too, have a cold. I think I got it from Kinnie- probably when she was "kissing" my nose the first day of her cold. I find myself wondering where she picked it up. I know, babies get sick. Especially babies in any kind of daycare setting.

For me, it begs the question of how sanitary is enough, without going overboard. I think my overall feeling is a bit old-fashioned. I don't have a fancy cover for the shopping cart. She sits in it as I did as a kid, often trying to mouth the metal. If we're out, and she gets irritated, I often hand her my keys, upon which she chews. She has chewed on my cell phone, and the dogs have kissed her on the face- sometimes even catching her open mouth. I don't feel panicked when a stranger touches her hands in saying hello.

You see, I don't want Kinnie to grow up in a bubble, thinking of the dangers that things pose prior to experiencing them. It is not that I don't care. Quite the opposite, in fact. I feel a fierce sense of protection over my child. And, as she grows, I will teach her when there are true dangers present. But, a little dirt? A few germs? I guess I wonder if I panic about these things now, what will I have left when it's time to really panic?

Pick your battles. That's what I think. Now, somebody promise to remind me, when Kinnie is a teenager, that this was my perspective...