When it Rains, It Pours

It’s been a crappy last couple of days…

Took my 7 year old to a new dentist in town a few days ago. He hated his old one. I can’t blame him for it. The guy is like a hundred years old. He has these thick, scary glasses and the personality of a rotten stump. If it were up to him, I’m sure he’d be using the old fashion torcher devices of days gone by.

We were pleasantly surprised with the new place. The receptionists were nice, the office was newly renovated and very modern. And they were great with kids! The dental hygienist explained every tool before she used them, and made it fun for him.

Then the dentist entered. She was very professional. As she began looking over his x-rays, a cold stone started sinking in my gut. She started point things out to the hygienist and started spouting off terms in her toothy jargon. She looked up, and told me to come here.

She gently peeled back my son’s lip and starting pointing things out. She explained that he was 2nd degree tongue tied. I was a little taken aback. I had not realized this was a real thing. I thought it was only a phrase people used when too many words tried to spew out of their mouths at once. But apparently is is a real affliction.
She began telling me how the tongue is what basically forms the jaw. So when your tongue is “tied” to the bottom of your mouth, the jaw can misform. It can cause dark circles under the eyes (which I had assumed was from his refusal to sleep), breathing issues, sleep issues, and most obviously eating issues. Things started to piece together in my mind. Could this be the reason for all of these little issues?

She then asked if he had problems latching as an infant, which he had. She informed me this is why. She said they could have made a few snips while he was still in the hospital and they would have healed by the end of the day.

That’s when I became angry. You mean to tell me that, first off, all of the horrible times I had trying to nurse were due to the oversight of the doctors and nurses at the hospital? And that every doctor and dentist that evaluated him for the last 7.5 years had overlooked this as well? What the hell kind of health system is this?

She explained that the correcting procedure was done by a laser, in office, with a small general anesthetic.  It would only take a few minutes, and would feel like you burnt your tongue on some hot pizza. Meanwhile, my son is lying there with her hands in his mouth cringing in fear. Lasers? Burning? Surgery? Noooo way, Jose! Not him!

She finishes up and moves along to her next patient. Our hygienist leads us to the check out counter and gets our bill together. I asked if she could give me a quote on the procedure. She clicked away and printed the quote. $4000! I looked again. Yep. Still $4000. WHAT?! (say it like your best Lil Jon impression) Ok. Hellooo, shit creek! Why, no, I don’t own a paddle. (Did I mention we don’t have insurance?)

Yeah. You read correctly. No insurance for us. Apparently, when the president said that his insurance was affordable, he didn’t have families like mine in mind. We make just too much for assistance,  but not enough to swing it on our own. Which would be $500+ a month with a $12.5k deductible and a 50% copay after deductible.

Basically, if we did forgo some things (like food, water, or heat), we just might, maybe, be able to afford it. But we wouldn’t be able to afford to go to a doctor, because every dime of the money we would use to go would be tied up in insurance we wouldn’t be able to use. Then, says our government, let’s add insult to injury and fine you people that can’t afford insurance.  Because that makes sense, right? Fine those that don’t have the money to comply. That will solve problems, right?

So, now we need to start a dental credit card to cover his procedure. But, they did say this included a mouthpiece that would be good until he is about 12. She said if we did not do this, he would probably need braces in a few years. So it is happening. Somehow or another.

Then, he brings home a letter from school today saying he needs to go have his eyes checked. So we get to do that now, too. I guss his doctor didn’t catch that either. Gotta love the timing!

From our poorhouse to yours,
-Misty

Welcome to my life

Hey!

You!

Yes, you! Welcome to my life. But don’t get your hopes up. It’s far from extraordinary. It’s pretty ordinary, in fact. But, it’s my life, ordinary or not, and I am allowing you a small door way into it. Just think Being John Malkovich, minus the literal small door, of course.

I, Misty, am a married 30 year old mother of one from a growing city in the south. I was born and raised here, and commonly refer to it as “the black hole,” since any who are lucky enough to leave eventually find themselves back one way or another. I won’t tell you which city, though. If you’re that interested, I’ll give you some hints. If you’re not interested, no worries, but you may want to skip the next three paragraphs…

We are the horse capital of the south (but what southern city doesn’t boast this, really?) We have Steeplechase, Polo tournaments, and are one of the top retirement communities in the nation. We are home to Palace Malace, the largest intercity forest, and some of the most stuck up and self righteous horse folk there are (who ironically are mostly from up north.)

Our county sheriff was mentioned in “High Times” magazine once. But not for what you may think. He happens to have a hilarious name that made his election campaign signs some of the most sought after and stolen around. “Mike Hunt for Sheriff!” Yes, Mike Hunt. Now say it again a little faster. See why he was so popular? No? Try again… Got it? (If so, mind in the gutter much? If not, come on, live a little!) Needless to say, he now uses his full name, Michael Hunt, in all materials.

Our state governor is just like any other crooked politician, with boobs. She is from one of our poorist counties and only seems to be worried about keeping the Boeing factory from unionizing. And jacking up our gas tax $.10 a gallon.

The Augusta National is about 40 minutes west across the river. We have had a few famous people too.  William “The Fridge” Perry hails from here. Both of his houses are here (one he lost to an ex-wife and his current one.) James Brown was arrested here (probably multiple times), but probably because he lived here, or it would have been somewhere else. One tends to get arrested often when they are on large amounts of drugs and doing whatever they please. Oh, and some of  Who’s Your Caddy was filmed here. Actually, we had to keep the restaurant I was working at open way late one night because they wanted to have a private party afterhours. Saw Andy Milonakis, Tony Cox, Jeffrey Jones, Andre 3000, and some other rappers and actors.

But I digress. Back to the introduction. Like I’ve mentioned previously, I’ve been married five years to the awesome Gavin, and mother seven years to Apollo. (If you are wondering, yes, I have changed our names, but they are directly related to our real names in each’s own, personal way.) And no, your math is not off. Well, at least for this equation. Gavin and I have lived together for almost 11 years now. We had our child three years in and married five years in. Don’t judge me.

Gavin and I are both employed full time. Gavin makes handmade tile from scratch (or in his case a box of raw clay.) He does everything from extruding, to cutting, glazing, baking, and packing. He’s lucky to have found such an artistic job, and he loves it (but wishes they would hire some help; he is the only employee!). I run a non-profit 501 (c) 3 call center for community resources. It is flexible, and I work mostly on my own, but I am spread pretty thin. (My position is actually 3 different full time positions consolidated into one to save money, which is definately not reflected on my paycheck.)

We are not religious, even though we live in the freaking bible belt. And no, we are not interested in conversion, thanks. I will no doubt talk about my views on religion throughout this blogging adventure. I am not out to offend anyone, or step on any toes, but I will express my opinion and how it makes me feel at the time. You can take it or leave it, but you are not going to change my mind. And I am not trying to change yours, so put down the hate mail and back away slowly. Remember these are my opinions, which I am free to express, and which you are free not to read if they bother you.

I believe that about covers all the basic introduction topics. This is my first blog ever, and hope it was at the very least humorous or made you smile at some point. I’ve been seeking a way to get my thoughts and feelings out without burning any bridges and bruising any relationships. This just may be the ticket, so long as there is some level of anonymity in place.

Thank you for reading and I hope to write to you again soon!

-Misty