Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Jeffrey and I are applying for life insurance policies as of late. Boy, when did we get to be such adults? Anyway, I've had the staggering fear that I would get turned down because ten and a half years ago, a neurologist diagnosed me with transverse mylitis, a rare neurological disease that causes my immune system to attack itself. In my case, it resulted in me temporarily losing my ability to walk (although three months, plus a year of gimping around is an eternity to a college sophomore, especially one who had just discovered a love of Shakespeare, rum runners, and a late night outing to Chevron on Four Corners). I spent a significant amount of time in the hospital and even more time in physical therapy. I can sum up the entire experience in the simplest of sentences: It sucked. Of course, insurance companies don't take too kindly to folks ailing from that sort of thing. Possibly the only reason I even have health insurance now results from my employment in the public sector. They give it to me because they have to. "Here, Mrs. Brown, because you chose to work for the state of Mississippi rather than fulfill your dream of composing the Great American Novel, we'll award you with this really crappy health insurance policy to which you'll never meet your deductible. Oh, and as the years pass, we'll take a little bit out of your paycheck each month because, really, let's face it. You already make SO much money as it is." So, health insurance, for all its crappiness, I'm covered. However, enter Jude, and Jeffrey and I find ourselves going a step further and planning for the God-I-hope-not event that one or both of us dies before Jude grows up. Let me tell you. You pretty much have to divulge your entire life to these people! I got asked, in this order: Do you have a history of heart disease/diabetes, Have you ever had a DUI, Are you currently on your menstrual cycle, Do you have HIV/AIDS? (And for those inquiring--"no" to all of the questions.) Then the bomb dropped. "Have you been diagnosed with any neurological disorder..." Well, there it is. "...In the last ten years?" Come again? And it turns out, no, I haven't! I was diagnosed ten AND A HALF years ago! I just made the cut! Anyway, we haven't been approved as of yet, but here's hoping we will. And if not, I just have to force myself not to die before Jude and any children after him finish college!