It’s now the 5th of September, and I’ve slept really well for the past five nights. I’m no longer panicked while driving that some crazy fool will sideswipe us and send us to the emergency room. I’m now a normal panicky mom — rather than the guilt-ridden, uber panicky, over-protective mom I’ve been for the past month — whenever my kids go through the front door to do things like ride their bike to a friend’s house, or walk the dogs on the beach.
What changed? Health insurance. For reasons that don’t really matter to this rant, we spent the month of August in the USA without coverage. And it hung over me every single day, like a meat cleaver suspended mid air, ready to pulverize its target.
I’m a cancer survivor (otherwise known as a pre-existing condition in the medical world). I’m also the provider and mother and anchor for my kids. And I’m one of the lucky ones. Like I said, I’ve got health insurance now.
Obamacare isn’t perfect. But we’ve got to start somewhere. For one month — one with 31 days, all of which I counted with precision — I understood the nagging, debilitating fear that looms large in the mind of a parent charged with caring for her kids. I understood the misguided rationale that says “I can’t deal with this today. Maybe we’ll be okay.”
In just a few weeks, America’s uninsured can begin shopping for subsidized insurance. In January, maybe a few more moms will sleep through the night, as I have these last five nights, and know that at least now, medical coverage is a check-box they’ve covered.
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