Spooky Tales: That Time When I Didn't Have Insurance

A little over a month ago, I quit a job that I'd had for the last seven seven years.  And in the process, I gave up the insurance plan that I'd have for about that same amount of time. 

I had officially transferred into the the bleak and horrifying world of the...

UNINSURED.**

Image from Scoopnext via Huffington Post

Just Us for For Now

"Is there a word for adults when they aren't parents?"

Steppa laughs.  "Folks with other things to do?"

"Like what things?"

"Jobs, I guess.  Friends. Trips.  Hobbies."

--from "Room"

Today, I confessed an embarrassing concern I'd had to a friend.  

After my miscarriage, I'd worried that Ben and I would grow bored with each other if, down the line, it ended up being just the two of us...forever. I told her I know that's ridiculous but almost a year ago (can you believe it) I had a thought one day-- that if Ben and I didn't have children, we'd have nothing to talk about from that point on.  I think I was concerned about this because having kids was just the next step in our plan, and we'd spent so long talking about it that it seemed unlikely that we'd ever find anything worthwhile to do, or talk about, again.

Many people, mostly parents actually, have assured me that this is an INSANE worry to have.  



Five Years Max

I think it's time for a little kidney update. So, here goes.

My transplant nephrologist recently told me that I'm probably only going to have my dad's kidney for another two years.  That would put its transplant life at just five years.

Trust me. I know that's not a long time.  We all hear and read stories of people having their kidney transplants for 10, 20, even 30 years.  Well, this is the story of the girl who only had her transplant for five years.  

I really wished, hoped, and at one time I prayed, that I would get to be in the first group, regaling others with the success story of my kidney transplant. But five years is not a success story.  It's more like a failure. 

Homeowning: The Pros & Cons

Last Spring we asked my friend to help us find a house.  Three months, a few screaming matches, and four rejected offers later we found our humble abode.  It was a little further away from our ideal location. But it cost less, has more space, and has better renovations than some of the other places we considered. It also doesn't hurt that we live ten minutes away from my favorite store.  Wegmans. Yes.  My favorite store is a grocery store because I am hungry...all the time.

Around July 22, Ben and I celebrated the one-year anniversary of us closing on our first home.  Around this time last year, we sat in a room for about two hours signing our names over and over again, sometimes reading the fine print, and then I handed over a check with what seemed like a billion zeros written down for our down payment. 

Now that we've had a mortgage for a year, I've decided that home owning is...a nice idea.  But it's not the BEST idea.  Here are my pros and cons, with a few of Ben's mixed in.

When I Talk About My Miscarriage

A list of some things that happened when I've talked about my miscarriage:

A female relative sends a message to me about her miscarriage.

Another female relative sends a message about her miscarriage.

Another female relative sends me a message about her miscarriage.

A colleague tells me about her miscarriages.  

A colleague tells me about his friend's stillbirth.

An aunt tells me about her miscarriage.  

Another aunt tells me about her miscarriage, but also her stillbirth.

A colleague and his wife take me to lunch to share the story of their son's stillbirth.

A friend tells me about her relative who had a miscarriage.

My nurse at my kidney doctor's office cries with me while telling me about her miscarriage.

The same colleague and his wife share with me everything they went through following their son's death.  

My kidney doctor tells me about his and his wife's miscarriage. 

The neighbor with whom I started walking to the commuter train in the morning tells me that he and his wife suffered miscarriage.  

A colleague tells me about her miscarriage.

The security guard at my office tells me about her miscarriage.