I knew exactly what I was going to write about today. Now I don’t remember. Something with the election? I think it was something about a common cognitive error people make while discussing the elections. The technical name for my cognitive error is being an idiot. I can write about something idiotic I did that is not funny and can have grave consequences. I really shouldn’t use my joking “idiot,” this has to do with my anxiety and procrastination.
I got call yesterday from Montefiore, where I get my infusions; I had one on Saturday. They were told that my insurance had been terminated. I don’t know specifically what mine cost, but they are usually thousands of dollars. I called my insurance company and found that I had missed my renewal. It was one of my unopened pieces of mail. I said I called my insurance company as if it were nothing. It wasn’t, for me that’s skydiving without a parachute. I had to approach it from different angles. Take my mind off it doing other things. Tell one of my best and most supportive friends I had to do it to give me accountability, meditate, then call. I have an appointment to go to their office and have it renewed on Thursday. I have to do it in person. The insurance won’t take effect until April. As I have doctor’s appointments before then and I don’t want to risk being uninsured I have to call Medicaid today and get emergency coverage for the rest of this month. I’m fighting off the catastrophizing. Consciously doing that and using the technical term helps. I’m making myself publicly accountable by writing this here. My heart is pounding. Here’s my plan, it helps to have a plan. I’m going to post this. Make a breakfast I love, poutineified grits ala Horvendile. I cook the grits in a beef broth, mix in the cheese curds near the end, then poach two eggs in it. I have never made it before. I’ll let you know how it goes. When I’m done with that I call the New York Department of Health and see what I have to do to get back on Medicaid. It’s happened before so I should be OK. I have to think about that not all the things that can go wrong. There are times I love being me. This is not one of them. Geronimo!
Wise Madness 