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March 20, 2003 ~ Resignation
Thursday.
A snapshot of how I was feeling follows:
Dear Estimable Judges of the "Be a Grown-Up" game,
Okay. You win. I lose. I'll turn in my game piece now. It was fun playing, but you finally got me.
You see, I can't afford thousands and thousands of dollars in dental bills for my husband right now. I know that the work that he needs done is critical, that he will have even worse, downright severe problems down the road if he doesn't have this done, the dentist made that very clear, but I'm pretty much at a loss as to how we are going to do this. I think that the place where I went wrong was when I assumed that now that I finally got us some insurance, we were in the clear. I didn't realize that it would only cover up to $1000 in dental work per year. Nice dice roll there; I totally didn't see that coming. Especially when this is going to cost $2,500 for each of the four problem teeth. (And I don't even want to get into the additional problems that are not quite so expensive, but will still cost money that we don't have). So, for the pressing matters, $9,000 that we are supposed to pay out of pocket. Well crap. Who would have known that the upkeep of a single human mouth can cost six times as much as our car, and more than the total rent of our house for an entire year? Not me, obviously.
Now, I know that you're not terribly sympathetic, but we were already having a hell of a time getting by as it was, what with Morgan unemployed, losing clients, and all. Even if we put this on a payment plan, we'd have to stop buying groceries and stop paying several of our utility bills every month in order to pay this. This put on top of everything else really did me in.
I was already sick with concern over this war. You knew how I felt about that. And now it is started, and is playing out in the background.
I was also feeling sad and powerless about my grandmother's declining health. I was the only person who ever visited her when she moved into that low-income housing complex. She's eating in homeless shelters, for pity's sake. She just turned 75. And now health problems that she can't go to a doctor about because she's uninsured and broke? Give a woman a break, why don't you? I think she's getting tired of your game, too. She changed my life, and now, when she could really use my presence, I'm 3,000 miles away. And I can't do a damn thing about it.
And, apparently, according to said grandmother, my dad lost his job. He's probably going to be homeless again, if he can't find anything right away.
And my old friend and ex-fiancée, Kris, is embarking on a new and promising romance and a journey toward fatherhood (November!). He's happy about that. But he and his new fiancée have next to no money, no jobs, and no health insurance. I pray that they each get one of the jobs that they are furiously applying for and that their applications to the Oregon Health Plan go through. I also pray that they have a very happy and meaningful life together, and that they are parents to a very healthy baby come November. But it sure would help if you'd cut them some slack.
All of my friends are losing their jobs, the economy is in the toilet, my country... ugh, I don't even want to talk about that.
I'm tired, dead tired. Many of the people whom I care about are falling apart too, and I want terribly to help them, but I have no energy left after fighting my own battles. I'm sick of spending weeks of just eating one meal a day. I'm sick of trying to mend underwear (damn near impossible, cheap crappy fabric it's made of) because I just can't afford the seven bucks that it would take to get a new pack. I'm sick of driving around in an unsafe vehicle because we can't afford the repairs. I'm sick of worrying that I may have to give up my website, the last luxury that I have, because $10 a month in hosting, while a good deal, is a bit much. I'm sick of eating potatoes and dried beans and not much else. I daydream about going into a bookstore and buying a book, because it's not going to happen anytime soon. I'm sick of watching Morgan squint at things because he's needed new glasses for years and years. I'm sick of still, even though I now have insurance, not going to a doctor just because I can't pay the freaking co-pay. Well, also because I'm a little fearful that if we go, they'll throw me some expensive bad news like the dentist just did when we went to her out of necessity.
I can't take any more. I'm through. I can't deal with this blow, it's just too big.
Anyway, you just threw your winning dice roll. I can't take any more. I lose. My game piece is enclosed. Please reconsider your policies, because, frankly, they are a bit too harsh.
Sincerely,
Melissa Ray Davis
Former Grown-Up
PS ~ Also, the previous game that I participated in, "Being a Child," had some really crappy flaws too. See previous letter.
A snapshot of how I am now feeling follows:
Lio, my conversations with you this week have been a major highlight of each day. Thank you for persistently knowing where I'm coming from, giving support, and renewing my hope. You pulled me out of the above attitude today, and I am far more thankful than I think that I can possibly express. Thank you for looking for solutions and finding them. Thank you for offering all that you have to give. Thank you for pulling out my optimism, my resourcefulness, and my faith. You have convinced me to fight this thing, to look under the rocks that only another person who has been here before would know to look under. Thank you, in short, for being you.
A., thank you for sending me so many very kind words that came on just the right day. No bills in the mail today, but an awesome card chock full of love. My friend, you have beautiful timing.
Thank you, sunlight, for coming out this afternoon, and thank you, Noah the neighbor cat, for basking in it to your little heart's content, stretching out on the pavement and just rolling around all over, basking in that light. You made me happy and warm just looking at you.
Grouse, thank you for all of the concern and warmth that you've been sending my way. And thank you for reminding me that, while it's hard for my readers to read about bad news, it's even harder for them to sit there wondering if I'm okay when I haven't updated. On top of that, thank you for becoming such a great friend. Thank you for showing me, honestly and kindly, a different side of things.
Thank you, little seed sprouts, for sprouting and giving me something growing to watch and to care for.
I may have written the resignation letter, but I didn't send it. I'm back in the game.
Plan of attack: First of all, we are going to, by necessity, put this off as long as we possibly can. I'm going to try to find a dental school in the area, so that we can pursue both a second opinion, and, hopefully, a much cheaper surgery. We have gone ahead with the treatment for Morgan's gum disease, so that we can catch that before it gets worse. We're also going to have his two cavities filled, before they get bigger. The major problem is four baby teeth that Morgan never lost when he was younger, that now have to be removed and, according to this dentist, have really freaking expensive false teeth implants put in their place. We are going to try to spread the treatment of each tooth out over four years, if at all possible, so that the insurance will pay for more like $4000 instead of just $1000. We are going to look into just how terrible it would be for him to just have a gap in his teeth where those baby teeth were. This dentist claimed that such would be a fate worse than death, but we're skeptical. We are going to put the removal of his wisdom teeth off indefinitely. I am probably going to cancel my appointment with the dentist. I know that that is probably putting off the inevitable, but well, groceries are more important to me at this point than my teeth. Maybe that's a bit shortsighted, but it's the truth.
We're leaving tomorrow for Boone, for a weekend's stay with an old friend of Morgan's. I'll be checking email, but not updating. We need the break. I just want to thank everyone who reads this, for caring, for leaving me notes, for sending me emails. All of you have added so much meaning and depth to my life.
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