I could be writing about kayaking on Puget Sound. I could be writing about dealing with moldy straw bales and musty barns. I maybe even could be writing about potlucks and sunsets on rocky beaches as seals played in the waves. And of course, there's the goat skin that will be needing some explanation...
Instead, I need to take some time to tell you all about something amazing. Three friends of mine from the Farm where I used to live are running a marathon this October. They're leading a relay and raising money for the Farm, and along the way, working to raise awareness for mental illness and the lives it touches.
Living at the Farm for three and a half years gave me an invaluable opportunity to learn how mental illness affects so many lives. And it also brought me into contact with countless amazing people: people of compassion, of courage, of hope. One of the greatest things I learned from living and working there was how important community is in combatting the effects of mental illness as well as the stigma and ignorance surrounding it. I learned how much we need all of the people in the communities in which we surround ourselves and how far we can carry each other through difficulties.
I'm truly inspired by their passion for this run and the cause they're supporting. Please take some time to learn about my friends' project. If you feel so moved, they (and the whole community) would appreciate any financial generosity you could afford. Even taking a moment to learn about mental illness and those who work to help live with it is worth the time. Help fight the stigma!
http://run4gouldfarm.blogspot.com
www.firstgiving.com/run4gouldfarm
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
kismet and health care, island style
I’m always on the lookout for signs from God, the Universe, Destiny, whatever you want to call it. Mostly, I look for cues to what my next big move should be: where should I live or what work should I do? Sometimes, I manage to remind myself of the little omens and gifts of generosity that land in my path.
The Universe gave me two things today: a trumpet and a tetanus shot.
My wonderful hosts are on an excruciatingly kind but misguided mission to get me to stay here indefinitely. I don’t know what they’re thinking; I work slowly, I eat a lot, and I take a long time in the shower. And I smell funny. However, they believe that if I join a small Latin band I’ll just spontaneously sink roots on Lopez, so they introduced me to a brass player here who happens to be forming one. And today, Al walked in the door with a Conn, on loan for free, from the school. My own horn (affectionately named The Beast), also on loan from my very generous and talented cuz JT, is in PA right now, still enjoying an extended respite from four arduous years of college. But the trumpet seems to follow me around, showing up at the Hacienda Buena Suerte in Spain even, and my lips are beginning to itch...
Ok, so the Universe itself didn’t give me the tetanus shot. A very kind nurse did. Four weeks on a construction sight dealing with power tools and llama excrement hadn’t landed me in the emergency room, but a leisurely day in the garden left me with a gouge from a rusty nail on the back of my heel. After being told over the phone that I could be squeezed in at the end of the day, or the end of the week, I biked my insurance-free self over to the clinic for a tetanus booster.
The nurse was very pleasant after my hour wait, and gently explained all the things that could go wrong after receiving the vaccine. But of course, it’s much better than my diaphragm contracting and my slowly dying of asphyxiation, isn’t it? *Smile* She even made me photocopies of info on the disease and vaccine to take home and ponder with my mommy and daddy. Did you know that all adults should get a tetanus booster every ten years? And that adults who get the shot frequently tend to experience the side-effects of soreness and swelling even more severely than the rest of us? Frankly, I can’t imagine walking into a doctor’s office and asking to be punched in the arm more than once every ten years. But to each his own, I suppose.
After all was said and done, the nurse asked me about my insurance plan. I sheepishly had to reply that I didn’t have one but she just beamed at me. “Well don’t worry; you get 20% off the cost if you can pay the bill today!” So out I walked, armed with this pleasant fact.
“So the vaccine will be $44,” the receptionist said.
“Is that after the 20% discount I get for paying out-right?” I asked.
The woman looked concerned and I was afraid there would be more paperwork or even an investigation into my possibly-fraudulent claim to have no insurance. “Well, we’re not going to give you the discount today, but we’re going to waive the ‘New Patient’ fee. It’s just a charge because you haven’t visited the clinic before.”
I didn’t want to argue, afraid that if I pushed too hard, some miscalculation would give me 20% off the vaccine, but have me paying the likely-to-be-nominal new patient fee twice, so I agreed but asked oh-so-politely what the ‘New Patient’ fee usually is.
“Um, let me see. That would be about... $80. Yes, $80.”
Thank Jesus for traveling karma and connections in small communities.
The Universe gave me two things today: a trumpet and a tetanus shot.
My wonderful hosts are on an excruciatingly kind but misguided mission to get me to stay here indefinitely. I don’t know what they’re thinking; I work slowly, I eat a lot, and I take a long time in the shower. And I smell funny. However, they believe that if I join a small Latin band I’ll just spontaneously sink roots on Lopez, so they introduced me to a brass player here who happens to be forming one. And today, Al walked in the door with a Conn, on loan for free, from the school. My own horn (affectionately named The Beast), also on loan from my very generous and talented cuz JT, is in PA right now, still enjoying an extended respite from four arduous years of college. But the trumpet seems to follow me around, showing up at the Hacienda Buena Suerte in Spain even, and my lips are beginning to itch...
Ok, so the Universe itself didn’t give me the tetanus shot. A very kind nurse did. Four weeks on a construction sight dealing with power tools and llama excrement hadn’t landed me in the emergency room, but a leisurely day in the garden left me with a gouge from a rusty nail on the back of my heel. After being told over the phone that I could be squeezed in at the end of the day, or the end of the week, I biked my insurance-free self over to the clinic for a tetanus booster.
The nurse was very pleasant after my hour wait, and gently explained all the things that could go wrong after receiving the vaccine. But of course, it’s much better than my diaphragm contracting and my slowly dying of asphyxiation, isn’t it? *Smile* She even made me photocopies of info on the disease and vaccine to take home and ponder with my mommy and daddy. Did you know that all adults should get a tetanus booster every ten years? And that adults who get the shot frequently tend to experience the side-effects of soreness and swelling even more severely than the rest of us? Frankly, I can’t imagine walking into a doctor’s office and asking to be punched in the arm more than once every ten years. But to each his own, I suppose.
After all was said and done, the nurse asked me about my insurance plan. I sheepishly had to reply that I didn’t have one but she just beamed at me. “Well don’t worry; you get 20% off the cost if you can pay the bill today!” So out I walked, armed with this pleasant fact.
“So the vaccine will be $44,” the receptionist said.
“Is that after the 20% discount I get for paying out-right?” I asked.
The woman looked concerned and I was afraid there would be more paperwork or even an investigation into my possibly-fraudulent claim to have no insurance. “Well, we’re not going to give you the discount today, but we’re going to waive the ‘New Patient’ fee. It’s just a charge because you haven’t visited the clinic before.”
I didn’t want to argue, afraid that if I pushed too hard, some miscalculation would give me 20% off the vaccine, but have me paying the likely-to-be-nominal new patient fee twice, so I agreed but asked oh-so-politely what the ‘New Patient’ fee usually is.
“Um, let me see. That would be about... $80. Yes, $80.”
Thank Jesus for traveling karma and connections in small communities.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)