iPhilip 30

 

On March 27th of this year, the iPhilip 30 made an appearance.  This particular iPhilip was to be the greatest yet.  But, as is often the case, life got in the way.  Here is iPhilip's story in his own words:

"My 30th year of life began with the loss of my emotional support kitty, Zoe.  She was just 11-years old.  I decided that I didn't want to wait to adopt another cat.  So I eventually adopted a beautiful tortoise hair cat that I named Zadie.  She hated me for a long time, which, obviously, didn't provide me with the emotional support I needed.  Months later, she is my little shadow and loves to be petted.

"Back in April, while I was in the process of adopting Zadie, a difficult decision arose (unrelated to Zadie's adoption).  I could make it easy by continuing to do what I was already doing; but in so doing, I would be causing myself more and more anxiety.  Or, I could make the more difficult, but correct choice, which is what I did.  I made the more difficult choice, knowing that my life would be miserable for awhile.  I knew people would hate me for the choice I made.  I knew my life would temporarily become a living hell.  But I made the choice anyways.  What I didn't know was that my social media and blog would be stalked.  I didn't expect failed attempts to have me taken down at every turn.  I began regretting the choice I made, even though I knew it was the right one.

"I began seeing a therapist.  She has been wonderful for me and has helped me through a lot.  But I still have a long way to go.  Even nearly half a year later, I am struggling with the decision I made.  If given the chance to do it over again, I would still make the same choice, even though I question it almost every day.  Doing the right thing isn't always easy.

"Just last week, I was in a dark place, a darker place than I had ever been in before.  I slowly got out of it using the techniques my therapist gave me.  I'm still not at 100%.  It may be a while until I'm there again.  But I'm trying."

When asked to describe himself, iPhilip 30 said that he is "big-hearted, but broken."  He remains hopeful and is continuing to look for ways to improve himself.  He is doing a lot of self-care activities and putting down boundaries.  We at iPhilip are certain that things will only get better.

An Open Letter

 

Dear friends,

I, along with millions of others, have had the Olympics on my mind and on my TV for the past week or so.  The news of Simone Biles opting to stop her participation was huge news this week.  She decided to put her mental health before her fame.  I've seen many different responses to the news.  A lot of love and encouragement, but also a lot of shaming and hate.  I've seen comments on social media from people I know and love.  So here is my open letter to those friends.

For those of you who are shaming Simone Biles for quitting, let me be the first to apologize.  I'm sorry that I, your friend, struggle with mental illness.  I'm sorry that I worry every day about what my future holds, or if I even have a future.  I'm sorry I can be such a Debbie Downer at times.  I'm sorry I'm too afraid at times to act 'normal'.  I'm sorry if I ever made you feel ashamed to call me a friend.

For my friends who are showing love and support towards Simone, I now know who I can turn to in times of trouble.

I, too, have had to make difficult decisions in the past.  Do I keep pressing forward in an emotionally draining environment?  Or do I quit to take care of myself?  I do my best to weigh the pros and cons.  If I can't see myself continuing on and being happy, I'll admit that I give up.  It's never an easy choice, but it's a choice that sometimes needs to be made.  I may give up on a lot of things, but I refuse to give up on myself.

I love each and every one of my friends.  I hope they all know that I can be a listening ear and/or a shoulder to cry on if they need one.  Life gets tough, but you can make it through.  Just make the right choice, even if it's the difficult one.

Your friend and ally, 

Philip 

Narcissism: A Short Story

   

    Way up in the Scottish Highlands of ancient times, a dragon couple had just established their territory.  Breeding season was only months away, so this couple needed to turn their territory into a home fit for hatchlings.  The male dragon, Aillig, and his female counterpart, Grear, were deeply in love.  You see, dragons were one of the few creatures that mated for life.  Once a bond is made, it becomes nearly impossible to break.

    Aillig and Grear constructed a beautiful nest of stone, in which Grear laid three eggs.

    "I have never been so happy in all my life," Grear told Aillig one day.  "I can't wait to meet our hatchlings."

    On the day the eggs hatched, Aillig was away hunting for food.  He arrived back to the nest to meet his two sons, Torin and Calder, and his daughter, Vanora.  A surge of pride filled Aillig's breast as he beheld his handsome hatchlings.  "This calls for some special gifts," he said to Grear.  Aillig left the nest for a brief period.  When he returned, Grear could see a glint of precious metal shining from Aillig's mouth.  Aillig gifted his three hatchlings with pure gold that he had come across while hunting.

    "It's beautiful," said Grear.  "But what is the purpose?"

    "To remind us of the day our lives changed forever," was Aillig's reply.

    As the years went by, the hatchlings slowly grew into majestic beasts.  Every year, Aillig would bring back gold to celebrate his offspring.  A pile had been formed in the center of the nest for all to see.  When the time came for the hatchlings' first hunting trip, Aillig was nowhere to be found.  Grear took the young dragons out by herself.  She taught them how to draw in and catch a red deer.  After Torin, Calder, and Vanora had each caught their own deer, they returned back to the nest.  Aillig was waiting for them.

    "To commemorate your first hunt," Aillig said, "I have brought each of you a gold figurine I found in a nearby village."  He passed out the figures.  A wolf for Torin, an eagle for Calder, and a bear for Vanora.  The three excited dragons thanked their father and went off to celebrate on their own.

    "Where were you today?" asked Grear.  "You missed the first hunt."

    "I knew you had it under control," was Aillig's reply.  "I went off to get gifts."

    "That was very thoughtful," said Grear, "but don't forget that the greatest gift is spending time with your offspring."

    "Come with me next time," said Aillig, seeming to ignore Grear's words.  "The village is a wonderful place.  The smells of cooked meat.  The sounds of singing and laughter.  And the gold.  You never know what you will find."

    "That does sound wonderful," Grear said.

    Many more years passed.  Aillig continued his tradition of treasure hunting.  He soon began going off multiple times a year.  The pile of treasures was moved down to a crag under the nest, still in full sight.  Although the young dragons told him they had enough treasure, Aillig continued to hunt for more, keeping most of his findings for himself.

    Early in the morning of the young dragons' Sending Away, Aillig went off to find the biggest treasures he could.  Sending one's offspring out into the world to find their own ways was the most important of dragon traditions.  Aillig needed to find something extra special for this day, no matter how long it took.  He returned late into the night with a large gold framed mirror.  This was the most perfect gift Aillig had ever brought home.  

    As the nest came into sight, Aillig noticed that Grear was waiting there for him, by herself.  "Where are the offspring?" he asked.

    "I sent them away," Grear answered angrily.  "They are moving on with their lives now."

    "You didn't wait for me?" asked Aillig, smoke curling from his nostrils.

    Grear frowned.  "I was unsure when you would return.  There have been times when you were gone for days."

    "I needed the perfect gift," Aillig growled.

    "The offspring don't care about your gifts," Grear snarled.  "They have told you multiple times.  You seem not to hear anything but your own greed."

    "I did this for them, not for myself."  Aillig glared at Grear.  "I care deeply about our offspring."

    "You have a strange way of showing it."  Grear turned her back on Aillig.  "I am going to sleep now.  I am leaving in the morning.  I need a respite from your avarice."  Grear left Aillig alone with his thoughts.

    Why does she not understand that everything I do is for my family? Aillig wondered.  She won't actually leave me...will she?

    This is when Aillig's already crumbling mind completely snapped.  "She can't be allowed to leave," he said to himself.

    The next morning, an earsplitting, woeful roar filled the air.  "What have you done?" Grear screamed at Aillig.  She looked back towards her tail.  Her once beautiful wings had been shredded.  Dried blood crusted the large tears in the wing membrane.  Pieces of flesh littered the nest floor.

    "I couldn't let you leave," was Aillig's reply.  "We need each other.  We are bound for life.  I couldn't let you follow through with your selfish need for 'respite'."

    "Your actions have proven that bonds can be broken," Grear cried, the pain beginning to settle in.  "You are the selfish one.  Everything you have ever done was for your own gain."

    "Everything I did was for our family."  Aillig was beginning to get angry again.

    "I can't...," Grear huffed.  "I can't talk...Too much pain."

    "Of course you can't talk," Aillig snapped.  "You never talk when it comes to my feelings.  It's always about you.  I've had enough!"  With that, Aillig pushed Grear over the edge of the nest.  He listened for the thud, shuddering when it finally came.

    "She's gone now," he muttered to himself.  "She can't hurt me anymore."

    Over the decades, Aillig fought off many a foe.  Humans seeking the treasure they could see from miles away.  Other dragons attempting to rob him of his territory.  Aillig eventually hid his treasure in a cave near his nest.  He would spend hours looking at the mirror.  He never looked at his reflection, only the gold frame around the mirror.  Upon leaving the cave one day, Aillig noticed movement near the nest.

    "Calder?" he said.  "Is that you?"

    "Hello father," Calder said.  "I've come to see how you were doing.  I heard about mother's fall so many years ago.  I would have come sooner, but I had my own offspring to take care of."

    "I am doing well," Aillig responded.  "I am happy here by myself.  I have everything I need."

    "I'm glad to hear that," said Calder.  "I also came to ask if you would join me in my nest.  I've seen how difficult life can get for the elderly."

    "Life isn't difficult at all," Aillig said with a small snarl.  "I said I am fine."

    "I just thought I would offer."

    "Because you think I am like the other elderly dragons?  I can take care of myself."

    "I understand.  I thought maybe-"

    "I don't need anything," Aillig growled.  "I am capable of taking care of myself.  I am happy on my own."

    Calder hesitated.  "You don't seem happy, father."

    Aillig let out a roar, a wave of smoke exiting his mouth.  "Who are you to tell me if I am happy or not?  You, who left me alone.  After all I did for you and your siblings, you left without a goodbye."

    "We waited hours for your return, father," Calder said, tears forming in his eyes.  "You left us wondering when you would return.  We all agreed that we had to go.  Mother gave us a beautiful sending away."

    "Don't speak to me about your mother," Aillig growled.  "She never loved me.  I want no more to do with her."  

    Calder let out a sob.  "I can't do this, father.  I must go.  Goodbye."  Aillig turned his back as Calder flew away.

    Aillig continued to live alone.  Other dragons were finally successful in taking over Aillig's nest.  Taking pity on an elderly dragon, they allowed Aillig to reside in his cave of treasures, where he eventually passed into the next realm.  All alone, with nothing but his reflection in his prized gold framed mirror.

Child Abuse: When to Report

 

Working with children can get frustrating.  Loving a child is the best thing in the world.  The grey area in between the frustration and love can get confusing.

Growing up, I always thought child abuse was physical.  I thought that the extent of child abuse was bodily harm to a child.  Then I learned about sexual abuse.  And neglect.  And psychological abuse.  There are so many ways children can be put in danger.

The best known form of abuse is physical abuse.  Physical abuse can be hitting, kicking, biting, restraining, and any other physically harmful actions.  If it leaves a mark that lasts for hours, it's abuse.  Some signs to look for are marks (red marks, scratches, bruises, etc.) especially on the face.  If you are a parent that spanks, just make sure you know the line between discipline and abuse.

Sexual abuse is a scary thing.  When an adult rapes, fondles, or does sexually stimulating activities with a child, this counts as sexual abuse.  Some signs to look for are if a child has advanced knowledge of sexual behavior, regressive behaviors (bed wetting, thumb sucking, etc.), decrease in self-esteem, and difficulty sleeping alone at night.

Neglect is the most common form of abuse.  Neglect can be as simple as leaving a child unsupervised, or not providing adequate food or clothing for the child.  Many families are reported for living in unsafe, unclean houses.  Some signs to look for are if a child tends to wear the same clothes everyday, is always hungry, is always unclean, or, like with physical abuse, is often covered in scratches or bruises.

The last type of abuse is psychological abuse.  Psychological abuse can go two ways: excessive attention and verbal discipline (screaming, name calling, cursing, etc.), or inadequate attention (ignoring emotional needs).  Children who have been psychologically abused may be persistently scared or withdrawn.  Some kids might be verbally abusive to other kids.

I have worked with many kids over the years and seen the signs of neglect and psychological abuse.  I've had to report parents.  It's not easy.  I care about every single child I've ever worked with, and it breaks my heart to see kids live in unfit conditions.  It breaks my heart even more to have to report the conditions, in fear that the child may be sent away.  Ultimately, though, the children's safety should be the priority.

If you suspect someone of abusing children, find out who you need to call.  Call the police in extreme cases.  If the child is not in immediate danger, the best thing to do is call your state's child abuse hotline, which you can find online.

Operation: Childspeak pt. 5

 

Forget everything you know about your child.  They are now a brand new individual.  New emotions, new interests, new fears.  The teenage years are a struggle.  Parents the world over have difficulty figuring out who these strangers are in their home.  The best way to get to know anyone is to listen.  Listen to understand.  Your teen is going to say hurtful things at times, or things you disagree with.  Just listen.  Once they have finished expressing themselves, hopefully in a calm manner, you can put in your two cents.

Something important to remember is that the young man or woman sitting before you is no longer your sweet little snuggle bug.  They're not going to crawl on your lap and cry when they're scared or worried about something.  Instead, they might act out.  They might argue.  There is a good chance that their anger is masking something deeper, such as depression or anxiety.  On the inside, they probably do want to crawl up on your lap and cry.  They just want to be loved and listened to.  It's honestly as simple as that.

This doesn't mean you should be their best friend.  You are still an authority figure.  But by genuinely listening, there is a better chance of your teen being willing to open up to you.

I have told a couple teens I've worked with that it is okay to respectfully tell their parent to just listen and not speak.  I did this as a teen.  There were things that I needed to express to my mom and I knew she would interrupt me at times.  So I gently, and very cautiously, asked her to please just listen.  I would tell her when I was done speaking.  We had some really good conversations this way.

"But won't that make my kid think they are in charge?"  No.  As long as they are respectful about asking you to listen.  It is your job as a parent to take care of your children.  Listening can open up a lot of doors.  It did for my mom and I, and it's also opened a lot of doors with one the teens I work with.  We have 'therapy' sessions every Friday after school in which he dumps his feelings and worries on me.  I then talk him through steps he can take to get rid or lessen these feelings he's having.  We've got a long way to go, but I feel that we are slowly making progress.  All because I listen before I respond.

I know this is asking a lot of you, but please try it out.  Just listen.  A lot of teens simply need to get things off their chests.  I'd rather have a teen dump their feelings on my than get into dangerous and unhealthy situations.  This obviously isn't going to solve all of your adolescent woes, but it's a good and important start.  Please, just listen.

Mannying Defined

 

In a little under two months, I'll have been working as a manny for four years.  And what an amazing four years it has been!  I have worked with six different families (plus a handful of 'as needed' families) and have donned many different hats.  All of these hats fit under the manny umbrella that I love to show off.  Let's take a look at these hats.

Hat #1: Disciplinarian

Growing up, I remember watching the show Supernanny in which nanny Jo Frost helps families with struggling children find peace through discipline and behaviorism.  I loved how she found fun, seemingly simple ways to help parents promote good behavior in their homes.  It's something I wanted to try my hand at.  In my four years as a manny, I have researched and developed multiple different behavioral charts and activities to help the kids I work with.  Some kids did really well with the ideas I came up with.  There are others that I'm still trying to figure out.  The brainstorming and creativity is almost therapeutic for me.  

Hat #2: Taxi Driver

This one is pretty self explanatory.  I have driven kids to and from school, sports, parties, work, appointments, and shopping trips.  I have mastered the art of packing up trunks and backseats while still saving room for the 'passengers'.  And some of the best, most meaningful conversations have happened while in the car. 

Hat #3: Tutor

Something I've been doing a lot of, especially since the pandemic started, is tutoring.  I had to quickly learn how to use the many various online learning formats the different school districts use.  Keeping the kids focused is the biggest part of the job.  I help out when needed.  I don't give answers, though.  If a child asks me a question, I ask follow up questions so they can come to the answer themselves.

Hat #4: Chef

I have always loved to cook, and nothing is more fun than cooking with kids.  One of my families really enjoys smoothies, so we have come up with some delicious smoothies (banana-coconut is amazing!).  I encourage the kids to help with lunch or dinner.  Cooking is an important thing to learn.  It's also very satisfying eating something you helped make.

Hat #5: Maid

I have been blessed with families who don't need a maid.  That doesn't stop me from doing minor chores such as the dishes or folding laundry.  One of my favorite memories is folding laundry with one of my families while watching Jim Carrey in The Mask.  Chores should be fun!  I've tied rags to kids' feet and had them 'skate' across the hardwood floor in soapy water.  They loved that!  I also try to make cleaning up toys fun.  I've had cleaning races to see who can pick up the most toys.  I've played toy basketball where I hold a basket or bin and have the kids toss the toys to me.  The room gets cleaner and (usually) everyone is smiling. 

Hat #6: Therapist

I have worked with many different families, as I mentioned.  With all the kids I've worked with, there were sure to be troubled kids.  I worked with a lot of kids with anger issues, which is no walk in the park, let me tell you.  But these kids do seem to be the most willing to talk and express their feelings.  They also seem to have the biggest hearts.  I try my best to understand what they are feeling and help them through their confusing and difficult emotions.  Most of the time, they just need someone to listen to them.

Hat #7: Nurse

While working with young children, it is inevitable that someone is eventually going to get hurt or sick.  I have cleaned and bandaged minor wounds.  I have checked for concussions.  I have taken temperatures.  And I have simply kept sick kids company.  I've also taught myself some reflexology to help with headaches, stuffy/runny noses, and coughs.  This is probably my least glamorous hat, as it has been vomited on, peed on, and bled on.  But a good scrubbing always removes the stains.

Hat #8: Friend

I'm sure your mom or dad at least once told you, "I'm your parent, not your best friend".  That doesn't apply to me.  I can be strict.  I can use fair discipline.  But the first thing I do is try to be friends with the kids I'm working with.  It can be a difficult balance, sometimes, but it's totally worth it.  I haven't gotten along with every child I worked with, but I did my best to show them the love they deserved.

I look forward to finishing up my college career while working with my families and perhaps adding more families into the mix.  I'm definitely interested to see what other hats I might put on under my manny umbrella.  There's always room for more.

Forever A 3rd Grader

The Day I Wrote A Personal Narrative

Being a 3rd grader is fun.  Being a 29-year old doing 3rd grade for the third time is not as much fun.  But it's 2020 and the mannying game has turned into a cyber schooling game.  Trying to cyber school a child with severe ADHD is honestly the most difficult thing I have ever had to do.  So to keep myself sane, I have decided to work alongside my little 3rd grader in some of his classes.  For example, he is making concentric circles in art class right now.  We have been having a blast working on those together.  This week, he is writing a personal narrative.  And that is what today's post is.  My personal narrative.

"Personal narratives should have dialogue and characters," the 3rd grade teacher told the class.

The characters in my personal narrative are both struggling through this school year.  My little 3rd grader is losing patience with school.  I am losing patience with the headaches this kid is giving me.  Anyone who knows me well knows I wouldn't trade my mannying gig for anything in the world.  I've begun to consider my options.

Thank goodness the boys physically go back to school in less than a month.  It's a hybrid situation, so they'll be working from home some days, and going in to school others, providing me with a much needed sanity break.

A personal narrative follows a sequence of events.  The kid and I are currently rocking out to some music while working on our circles.

A personal narrative should be either informative, entertaining, or used to persuade.  This is more of a thought dump.

A personal narrative needs a conclusion.

In conclusion, it's almost time for gym class.

The End

The Same Old Theme

One of my all time favorite songs is "Zombie" by The Cranberries.  The band members are natives of Ireland, which, when "Zombie" was written, was going through what is known as "The Troubles".

There was a lot of fighting and casualties during this time.  Some political offices were being targeted.  The song "Zombie" was written after two young boys were killed in a bombing.  The song is about all the unnecessary deaths and fighting that had been going.  "Zombie" even references the Irish revolution that started in 1916:  "It's the same old theme since 1916".

I never truly understood the meaning of this song until recently, when all the protests and riots started after George Floyd's death.  The part of the song that caught my attention was the reference to children and their mothers.  I thought of George Floyd calling out for his mama while he was being violently detained by the police officers.
It's easy to push aside the incidents when you see them on the news.  "It's not my family".  But when you put yourself in the shoes of the victims and their families, the incidents become much more real.
I hope that someday in the near future, I can listen to "Zombies" and think Wow, what a great song! instead of I can't believe this is still going on in my country today.  Until then, I will do my best to love and be kind to everyone.   

Here is the full song, for reference:

Another head hangs lowly

Child is slowly taken

And the violence, caused such silence

Who are we mistaken?

But you see, it's not me

It's not my family

In your head, in your head, they are fighting

With their tanks, and their bombs

And their bombs, and their guns

In your head, in your head they are crying

In your head, in your head

Zombie, zombie, zombie-ie-ie

What's in your head, in your head

Zombie, zombie, zombie-ie-ie, oh

Another mother's breaking

Heart is taking over

When the violence causes silence

We must be mistaken

It's the same old theme

Since nineteen-sixteen

In your head, in your head, they're still fighting

With their tanks, and their bombs

And their bombs, and their guns

In your head, in your head, they are dying

In your head, in your head

Zombie, zombie, zombie-ie-ie

What's in your head, in your head

Zombie, zombie, zombie-ie-ie

Overthinking Respect

When I was working at Pizza Hut, I had a lot of customers come in who were of the Hindu faith.  Although not required, a majority of the Hindus don't eat meat.  They believe in the sanctity of life for every creature.  These customers always emphasized that there should be no meat on their pizza.  On the rare occasion that a piece bacon somehow made its way in with the onions, these customers would ask for a remake.  They would not eat something that even touched a piece of meat.  

As irritating as this was, I just had to remind myself that I needed to respect these customers' beliefs.  I didn't want to make anyone feel uncomfortable.  And I certainly didn't want to make anyone feel like they had just committed a sin.

I eat meat.  Mostly chicken.  I don't believe that anything bad will happen if I consume that tiny piece of bacon hidden among the onions.  But the world doesn't revolve around me.  I do my best to remember the needs and concerns of the people around me.

Which brings me to wearing masks.  I hate having to wear a mask.  I hate breathing in the warm, moist air my mask provides.  And I hate trying to readjust my glasses every few minutes so they don't fog up.  But I am one of the many people who believes that wearing a mask can protect you and those around you.

I have some friends who believe they don't need to wear masks.  They think the Coronavirus is no worse than the flu.  I can't say if they're right or wrong.  I'm no doctor or scientist.  What I can say is that we need to respect the choices of the people around us.  Like me, many people in the country believe that wearing a mask can protect themselves and the people around them.  If you don't want to wear a mask for yourself, please at least wear a mask for everyone around you.  You can protest all you want.  You can go mask free when you are around others who feel the same as you do.  But if you need to go pick up a gallon of milk, put a mask on.  

During these crazy times, I can't think of anything more unkind than not wearing a mask in public.  Sure, you're showing that you don't believe wearing them changes anything.  But, perhaps unintentionally, you're also showing that you don't care about the people around you.  The world does not revolve around you.

I just want you to think about this.  Would you serve a vegetarian meat?  No, that's just rude.  Why is wearing a mask any different?

Grandpa Insurance

The last few months of applying for health insurance has been ridiculous.  To lay it out for you in a simple, easy-to-read fashion, I have condensed the past eight months into one conversation with a man I'm calling Grandpa Insurance.

Me (After submitting online insurance application):  Now I wait.

Grandpa Insurance:  I got your application!  Now I just need documents that prove you have a job, you paid your taxes, and you're an American citizen.  You have one month!

Me (Busy with three jobs):  I should probably print out those papers and get them sent in.

Grandpa Insurance:  Too late!  Request denied!

Me:  ...But it's only been two weeks.

Grandpa Insurance:  No, it's been 30 days.  Today's October 10th.

Me:  I submitted my application on September 26th.

Grandpa Insurance: ...Oops.  Well, I already threw out your last application.  Please apply again!

Me (About a month later):  Alright, application sent.

Grandpa Insurance:  I got your application!  Now I just need documents that prove you have a job, you paid your taxes, and you're an American citizen.  You have one month!

Me (Swamped with work again):  Gotta print out those papers!

Grandpa Insurance:  Too late!  Request denied!

Me:  Again!  You only waited two weeks again!

Grandpa Insurance:  Dagnabbit!  I gotta get this watched fixed.  At any rate, please fill out the application again!

Me (A few months later):  Ok, application is sent, and I have my papers ready to print!

Grandpa Insurance:  I got your application!  Now I just need documents that prove you have a job, you paid your taxes, you're an American citizen, you pay for gas, and you have previous medical bills.

Me:  What?!  More paperwork?  

Grandpa Insurance:  Don't shoot the messenger!

Me:  Ok, here's all the paperwork!

Grandpa Insurance:  Great!  Now we can get started!  Oh boy...I need two more pay stubs!

Me:  ...Ok...um...here you go.

Grandpa Insurance:  You're eligible for food stamps!  But not Medicaid.  You need to go through Marketplace.  Please fill out the application again.

Me:  Seriously?

Grandpa Insurance:  Again, just the messenger!

Me:  Alright, here it is.

Grandpa Insurance:  Perfect!  Now I just need to know when you lost your past coverage.

Me:  Um, April 22nd of this year.

Grandpa Insurance:  What about it?

Me:  What about what?

Grandpa Insurance:  April 22nd of this year.

Me:  You asked for the date I lost my previous coverage.

Grandpa Insurance:  No I didn't.  Now you need to fill out the application again.

Me:  A fifth time?!

Grandpa Insurance:  Messenger!

Me:  Ok, ok, here it is.

Grandpa Insurance:  Perfect!  You are now ready to pick a plan!  Please be aware that because you make barely any money, you are not eligible for a tax credit.  You will need to pay full price for whichever plan you choose.  The cheapest plan we have is $230 a month with an $8,600 deductible.

Me:  An $8,600 deductible?!  What's even the point of having the insurance?

Grandpa Insurance:  After the deductible is met, we'll pay for everything!

Me:  Is there a plan that has a smaller deductible?

Grandpa Insurance:  How about $7,200?

Me:  No.

Grandpa Insurance:  Wait!  I found one with a $0 deductible!  But your whole month's income would go to paying for it.

Me:  Ok, give me some time to figure this out.

Grandpa Insurance:  You have until the end of June.

Me (To myself):  What am I gonna-

Grandpa Insurance:  Just kidding!  Have free health insurance!  Have food stamps!  Have help paying for past bills!

Me:  What?

Grandpa Insurance:  Didn't ya hear me, boy?  You're fully covered!  No cost!

Me:  So what was with all the red tape?!  That was super stressful!

Grandpa Insurance:  Like I said-

Me:  Yeah, yeah, you're just the messenger.

This is a light-hearted, humerous look at the long struggle it took me to get fully covered.  It plays out like a joke because, in reality, applying and getting coverage is a joke.  It shouldn't be so complicated to have your health needs met.  But that's just how the world is these days.  I'm super grateful to have finally been found eligible for full coverage, though!

First Hand Account

As mentioned a few posts ago, I have been experiencing symptoms that I've had two doctors say may be coming from a mass growing on my pituitary gland.  Since then, I have been working on getting better health insurance.  I was already covered, so I wasn't rushing.  Until I got a bill for some blood work I had done in January.  It was almost $500!  And I had another bill coming for blood work I had done beginning of March.  I got on my computer right away and applied for Medicaid.  They needed a bunch of paperwork, which I got to them as quickly as I could.  I got an email about two weeks later saying that I was not eligible for Medicaid.  The email directed me to a website and phone number for Marketplace, where I could shop around for health insurance based on my income.  There were no other directions other than to go to the website or call the number.

I tried the website first, to find absolutely no directions on what needed to be done.  So I called the number.  The lady I talked to filled out a new application with me and told me she needed a couple more papers from me and the date of when my prior coverage ended.  I called the number again today and spoke with someone different.  I told him I had the date my coverage ended, which just so happened to be today (I didn't get a letter from them or anything!).  The man I was talking to told me he didn't need a date, just the paperwork.  I asked a couple questions, confused and frustrated, and he recommended doing the application again.  So that's what we did.  In a matter of a month, I've applied for insurance three times.

Based on my income, the man on the phone was able to set me up with Marketplace.  I am finally ready to choose my coverage.  The man on the phone made sure to tell me, though, that because of my low income, I wasn't eligible for a tax credit and I'd have to pay full price for coverage.  The plans range between $230 and $570 a month.  There were a few reasonable options, until I took a closer look.  For $230 a months, I would have full coverage, meaning I wouldn't pay a thing, after an $8,600 deductible.

I still haven't picked a plan.  I'm going to sit down with my parents and have them help me out.

I am absolutely disgusted at all the red tape I had to go through just to find out that because I don't make a lot of money, health coverage is extra expensive for me.  I honestly wouldn't mind paying $230 a month for coverage.  It's the ridiculous $8,600 deductible I don't understand!  I wouldn't worry so much if I didn't have an MRI coming up.  And, depending on what the MRI shows, I may need to have surgery as well.  I can't pay for any of this!

You better believe that I'll be writing an email to my local congressman, senator, or whoever about this issue.  It just doesn't make any sense!  Taking care of one's self should not be a decision between paying for medical bills or paying for food and shelter.  I am blessed to be living with my parents who are always willing to help out financially.  But I see their struggles, too, and I don't want to have to rely on them.  I want cheaper, if not free, health care/coverage.  I want to live a long, happy life.  I don't want that to be dependent on my income.  It's just not fair!

Fiery Serpents 2020

Remember that one time that God sent fiery serpents among the children of Israel to get them to behave?  I don't, personally, but I do remember reading about it in the Old Testament.  Those who were bitten were offered a cure.  All they had to do was look at a brass serpent that Moses lifted up.  That small, simple act of faith in God cured many people.  But there were many others who suffered and died because they thought the cure was too simple to actually work.  They lacked the faith they needed to be healed.
We have a new fiery serpent among us today in the form of the Coronavirus.  While I'll admit that staying in or around the house 24/7 is not at all a simple act, wearing masks out in public is.  I was surprised to see how many people on Facebook are complaining about tyranny and being told that they must wear masks in order to get groceries.  People don't like being forced to do things.
The masks, in this case, are the brass serpent.  Wearing a mask in public, though a minor annoyance, is a simple act to protect yourself and others around you.  Whether you believe in the Coronavirus or not, wearing a mask is something simple you can do without complaining.
The main difference between Moses's brass serpent and today's brass serpent is the lack of prophetic authority.  By looking at the brass serpent Moses lifted up, you were showing faith in God through his prophet.  It's easier to question today's Moseses (government leaders, doctors, etc.) because people have so many differing opinions on said authorities.  Instead of trying to decide who to listen to, maybe you should decide for yourself.  Put yourself in other peoples' shoes.  Just because you don't believe masks will work doesn't mean they won't.  The people around you wearing masks seem to think they work, and they're wearing them for your protection, as well as their own.
The moral of the story is to think about what is being asked of you.  If it's something simple and harmless, with the best of intentions, just go with.  Wear the mask.  Look up at the brass serpent.

Isolation: A Short Story

A long time ago, my name was used to signify royalty.  Honor.  Protection.

Now it brings only fear.

I'll be forever grateful to the man who brought me here, to this cabin in the woods.  No one around for me to harm.  

I'm also sorry that he had to get hurt to help me.

I've been here for three weeks now.  Alone.  I gave up watching television, seeing my name in the headlines.  The number of people I've hurt.  I stay on the music stations, letting the beats and rhythms drown my thoughts.

Sleeping is difficult.  I lay awake most nights trying and failing to not think about my past.  I spent my whole life reaching out for someone to love me.  But among all the people I've encountered, I knew I was alone.  I knew I would always be alone.

So I ran.

I was fortunate to find this cabin.  All the furniture was covered in a thick layer of dust.  The kitchen was almost empty.  I've had to ration my meals.  I was thrilled when I found the cable box still worked.

I think I've made the best of things.  I'm feeling lighter than I have in a long time.  Music drowning my loneliness.  A game of solitaire on the table.  Even the bookshelf is still stocked with some reading material.  I'm keeping busy, distracting myself.  

I found seeds in one of the kitchen pantries.  A plot of soil in the back yard.  On sunny days, I go out and tend to my little garden.  The beans sprouted quickly.

Everything is fine.  I am fine.

I head back inside, my sprouts freshly watered, glistening in the sun.  A song comes on that I love.  The perfect amount of bass.  I turn it up, begin to dance.  I live for moments like this, where I can be free to be me.  Enjoy the music.  Enjoy life.  I close my eyes as I dance.

I don't see the headlights.  I don't hear the voices, the children's excited laughter.  I open my eyes in time to see the door handle turn.  I freeze, feeling a fear I haven't felt in days.  My chest tightens.  I think of the last people I saw.  The last people I hurt.  In Wuhan.  Milan.  Madrid.  New York.  I'm sorry.  I'm so sorry.

I see a face, the confusion in the eyes.

The intake of breath.

I'm sorry.  West Virginia, I'm so sorry.