happy happy happy
First off, I officially love our insurance company. I could be using this moment to be angry at them, and at my HR manager, and at my therapist, for none of them knowing and/or mentioning to me in the FIRST place that if I had a medical diagnosis for depression then my visits would be treated as a regular office visit, with a mere $15 co-pay per week. I could be angry, but I'm not, because if I'd called THEM in the first place rather than talking directly to my HR manager, and if I'd asked about what the insurance covered rather than asking them about how to send in receipts, then I would have known in the first place. And since I was depressed and pretty incapable of handling things at that point, I'm definitely not blaming myself. Which is a long, roundabout way of saying that I feeling like I just got a present and I am a happy girl.
I've been paying $100/week for therapy, and submitted a big ol' claim for six weeks' worth. Having not seen the money sent back my direction, I checked the website to see what was going on with my claim, and discovered that they'd sent the check to my therapist. Hrmph, I said, and called them to ask what the hell went wrong and what I was supposed to do now. After they got my information and I spent a long, grumpy time on hold, they popped back with the information that since I was medically diagnosed with depression, this counted as a medical office visit in terms of insurance. And that in the future, once they talk with my therapist and get the whole thing straightened out about how this will work on her end, I'll just have to pay the $15 co-pay every week.
I tell you, writing a check for $15 is much different than writing a check for $100. I am so relieved right now, it's like I'm floating. My mental health will not bankrupt us. We will be able to afford Christmas. I no longer have to feel like I must hurry up and get fixed as soon as is fucking possible, so that we wouldn't be dealing with that kind of expense. $60/month is doable. $200/month is not.Dude, $15/week is what we spend on BEER, man. This is much, much, much better.
In other news, the bonuses that we both got have killed off the credit card debt that we've been piling up-- most of it was still from the wedding and honeymoon, but still-- and we'll be able to clear the decks there and stop having to send piles of money to the stupid credit card companies every pay period. YAY. There was enough left over to buy my Hub a new Playstation game, which he loves very much, and have us a date tonight to go to the movies. Ahhhhhh.
Seriously, getting rid of the credit cards and shucking the mental health down to a manageable amount means that I'm going to be able to deal with the budget this weekend without holding my head in horror. Mental note: next year I am in no way going to put this shit off. I can excuse my actions this year because, well, I've been mentally unbalanced, but... gah.
My Hub has declared that he wants to lose a few pounds. Which is good, because my non-hardcore efforts to stabilize my weight (whilst stabilizing my braaaain) have meant that our food intake has been questionable for a few months now; I haven't been devoting my every breath to figuring out meals and recipes and to cooking. He's tired of it and wants healthy stuff again. He is apparently going to be stepping up and taking charge on the food front, and we are going to be eating healthy again. I am so grateful for this that I could just pop.
The way he phrased it cracked me up. (Which is noteworthy in and of itself, because my initial reaction before would have been to assume responsibility and blame myself.) He said, in a very woe-is-me Eeyore voice, "It was a lot easier for me to [maintain weight] when you were all mentally unstable about it. I just had to go along for the ride. Damn your newfound mental stability!" That's my boy. Serious kudos to him for recognizing what was going on and stepping up.
What's funny here is that he wouldn't have gotten used to healthy eating if I hadn't been crazy hardcore about it for the first year and a half or so. And if I hadn't had a bit of a collapse when I got depressed, he wouldn't have had these weeks of relative freedom. I think it's the contrast that's really driven him to this; he felt all bloaty last night after too much pizza. Poor boy.
My current plan goes something like this: my Hub will be in charge of meals, and I am going to release my brain from that. I am going to get a few different DVDs for wacky cardio entertainment, because I really need to shake things up and I am, I must admit, tired of what I'm currently doing. Just because my dad and my sister run for all of their cardio doesn't mean I have to. I'd like to dance. I've got two DVDs coming in from Amazon.com, but they won't ship for another few weeks. In the meantime, I'm going to pick up some other DVDs at the store down the street.
Some mornings I'll probably want to jog, still. Or maybe my Hub will end up using the treadmill. No worries, either way. I am not going to make this a source of stress.
More momentarily; a topic got away from me and requested a whole post of its own.
I've been paying $100/week for therapy, and submitted a big ol' claim for six weeks' worth. Having not seen the money sent back my direction, I checked the website to see what was going on with my claim, and discovered that they'd sent the check to my therapist. Hrmph, I said, and called them to ask what the hell went wrong and what I was supposed to do now. After they got my information and I spent a long, grumpy time on hold, they popped back with the information that since I was medically diagnosed with depression, this counted as a medical office visit in terms of insurance. And that in the future, once they talk with my therapist and get the whole thing straightened out about how this will work on her end, I'll just have to pay the $15 co-pay every week.
I tell you, writing a check for $15 is much different than writing a check for $100. I am so relieved right now, it's like I'm floating. My mental health will not bankrupt us. We will be able to afford Christmas. I no longer have to feel like I must hurry up and get fixed as soon as is fucking possible, so that we wouldn't be dealing with that kind of expense. $60/month is doable. $200/month is not.Dude, $15/week is what we spend on BEER, man. This is much, much, much better.
In other news, the bonuses that we both got have killed off the credit card debt that we've been piling up-- most of it was still from the wedding and honeymoon, but still-- and we'll be able to clear the decks there and stop having to send piles of money to the stupid credit card companies every pay period. YAY. There was enough left over to buy my Hub a new Playstation game, which he loves very much, and have us a date tonight to go to the movies. Ahhhhhh.
Seriously, getting rid of the credit cards and shucking the mental health down to a manageable amount means that I'm going to be able to deal with the budget this weekend without holding my head in horror. Mental note: next year I am in no way going to put this shit off. I can excuse my actions this year because, well, I've been mentally unbalanced, but... gah.
My Hub has declared that he wants to lose a few pounds. Which is good, because my non-hardcore efforts to stabilize my weight (whilst stabilizing my braaaain) have meant that our food intake has been questionable for a few months now; I haven't been devoting my every breath to figuring out meals and recipes and to cooking. He's tired of it and wants healthy stuff again. He is apparently going to be stepping up and taking charge on the food front, and we are going to be eating healthy again. I am so grateful for this that I could just pop.
The way he phrased it cracked me up. (Which is noteworthy in and of itself, because my initial reaction before would have been to assume responsibility and blame myself.) He said, in a very woe-is-me Eeyore voice, "It was a lot easier for me to [maintain weight] when you were all mentally unstable about it. I just had to go along for the ride. Damn your newfound mental stability!" That's my boy. Serious kudos to him for recognizing what was going on and stepping up.
What's funny here is that he wouldn't have gotten used to healthy eating if I hadn't been crazy hardcore about it for the first year and a half or so. And if I hadn't had a bit of a collapse when I got depressed, he wouldn't have had these weeks of relative freedom. I think it's the contrast that's really driven him to this; he felt all bloaty last night after too much pizza. Poor boy.
My current plan goes something like this: my Hub will be in charge of meals, and I am going to release my brain from that. I am going to get a few different DVDs for wacky cardio entertainment, because I really need to shake things up and I am, I must admit, tired of what I'm currently doing. Just because my dad and my sister run for all of their cardio doesn't mean I have to. I'd like to dance. I've got two DVDs coming in from Amazon.com, but they won't ship for another few weeks. In the meantime, I'm going to pick up some other DVDs at the store down the street.
Some mornings I'll probably want to jog, still. Or maybe my Hub will end up using the treadmill. No worries, either way. I am not going to make this a source of stress.
More momentarily; a topic got away from me and requested a whole post of its own.
posted by Meg at
9:16 AM
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