Get Health Insurance or... Die?

Probably not quite literally, but I think the fines are enough to give someone a heart attack. Fines can add up $912.00 a year -- that's $912.00 I can't afford to pay. With gas prices going in the direction that they are, I could really use that money to fill my tank; for one month. So obviously, I should probably get health insurance. Simple no?

Not exactly.

I had no idea how expensive this stuff actually was. The cheapest rate I could find was through BlueCross for $215.00 a month. That's $2,580.00 a year of coverage that doesn't offer very much. Not to mention, more likely than not, I won't be using the coverage either. Thank God, I don't have any serious health issues (knock on wood). It's almost tempting to just pay the fines and fore-go buying insurance.

Never-the-less, I did my research and started looking up plans. As I continued to look through, doubts began to fill my mind. You know what I'm talking about... The "what if" factor kicks in.

Well, what if I need to go to the doctor? And what if an emergency happens? So you start looking at bigger, more costly plans. Before you know it, you're second guessing yourself into $400.00 a month plans because you're so worried that you may contract the bubonic plague with a mild UTI and need immediate coverage.

I bet you're all wondering why I don't just acquire insurance through my employer. As yes, a job should provide this kind of thing, yeah?

No.

Part-time employees currently do not have this option at my new job. Don't get me wrong, I love my new job and am so incredibly happy that they value my degree and the knowledge I posses through it. This could possibly be the one and only down-fall to the entire job. It's fallen on my shoulders (hopefully not too hard, I don't have insurance -- bad joke I know, but it was screaming at me to be said) and now I need to do the research to find a suitable yet affordable insurance.

I don't remember signing up for this part of adulthood. I just wanted all the perks of being a college graduate. Always read the fine print... What a nasty trick.

So my search continues and in the meant time, I'd better go on carefully and make sure I don't break anything.

It's time for Jen with your local Bostonian news...

Locally in Long Beach, California... Okay, so it's not local, but this story is definitely worth a mention.

Girl Carries Secret Baby to Hospital, Still Attached

I'm not going to paste some article here, but I'll give you the brief synopsis of this fairytale. A high schooler took Home Ec to a new level this week -- it was either that or she didn't follow the directions. So a 17-year old girl got up one idle Tuesday to get ready for yet another day of being a misunderstood teen when after she hopped into the shower, a life changing event occured!

No, she did not get her first period. At 17 I'd be a little worried.

Rather, she goes into labor -- yes, labor -- and gives birth to some tiny evil spawn. To quote her, "I felt his head coming, so I sit down and pushed so he could come out." I know, I know... Her English makes me cringe too. Even better, she pushed so he could come out -- good thinking Sherlock.

Hold on now! It gets better! As we've all learned in school -- or at least some of us have -- babies are attached to their mothers by an umbilical chord. After this teenage girl becomes a mommy, she picks up her offspring, wraps it up and with the chord still attached she walks -- walks -- to the hospital. Can you imagine?? Lets forget the fact that she gave birth; minor detail at this juncture. Instead, lets think about this walking to the hospital bit. Baby in hands. Placenta in tow. Umbilical chord attached. Really think about that last part. Attached. This chord is stemming from the infant's soon-to-be bellybutton (possibly an outtie at this point) and is feeding right back up into her yoohoo then she walked to the damn hospital. I have no words for this other than... Trojans. A million reasons and 46 chromosomes why to spend the ten bucks and slip one on.

Wait for it... Now I know what you're thinking, why didn't she just call 911? Well, her phone was disconnected. I guess this bright young child prodigy didn't know that even when your home phone is on the fritz due to possible lack of bill payment (I hate it when that happens) that you can still call the emergency hot line 911. So why didn't she use a neighbor's phone? I'll let her field this question for you... She did not want to wake the neighbors because it was so early. I wish she lived next door to me. At least I know she'll be considerate enough to have a baby and not bother me in the morning in her time of distress. Who said the youth of America didn't show respect??

So why didn't her mother help out? Here lies the twist in our little Disney story... The girl didn't tell her mother because she was afraid she'd get kicked out of the house. This makes me wonder... Did her mother not notice her daughter was gaining weight or was this girl round enough where a weight gain went undetected all this time? Now that baby is here however, grandma had to show face and said she would help her daughter take care of the new bundle of joy. Something tells me that when they got home, doors closed where no one could hear or see them, grandma let her daughter know exactly how she felt.

What a happy family. You can hardly keep the smile off the girl's face.
And her mother looks so proud...

The doctor was kind enough to call this teenager "clever" for her "quick thinking". I apologize, but if this is any example of quick thinking amongst our teens today, I fear even more for the future. Doc Perez -- not Perez Hilton -- went on to say that "she knew what to do". You are so right Dr Perez! She's a regular Ben Franklin, the way she sit down and pushed in the shower then wrapped the still attached baby then walked to the hospital. In the words of the immortal Wile E. Coyote... Suuuper Geeenius.



Keep your eye out for this girl to be on the next Maury 100% sure that five different men are the father.


For an unbiased opinion, here is the CNN rendition of the story:

http://www.cnn.com/2008/US/05/04/teen.birth.ap/index.html

If I were to call your best friend and ask them to give me three adjectives to describe you, what would they be?

On Wednesday I had my job interview and the very minute I woke up that morning, I was absolutely sick to my stomach about it. Nervous does not even begin to explain how I really felt before that interview. Granted, I have been through these before, but this feeling never seems to fade with each one.

It's funny... I get a cheap thrill out of fast, upside down coasters and scary horror flicks. And I mean the rated R kind, not those PG-13's. You know what I'm talking about, PG-13 gives you those dim witted folk who all seem to take a wrong turn, their car breaks down, cellphone dies, end up shacking up in a desolate area (probably a whopping 20 miles away from civilization -- say it isn't so!!) in a creepy motel where the owner is "mysteriously" killing the guests and no one can seem to figure out how to get out of the situation when the solution is right in front of them. All the while you're thinking, they deserved to die anyway.

However, if you put me in front of a group of people or put me through an interview, I could very well lose what I ate the night before.

This interview was different. Now I'm sure most people would say that about a job they see that they'll really like or after they've landed the job of their dreams. For serious. This interview was different. Something told me that the interview would go smashingly when the interviewee said, "I'm going to tell you right now -- I really like you, so I am going to be a little biased in this interview."

Come again?

We basically sat there and talked, it wasn't much of an interview to say the least. Our conversations were about what got me interested in Athletic Training and why I wanted to work in a Physical Therapy setting; how she could convince me to become a Physical Therapist instead and what to expect in Athletic Training. Finally, we got down to the gut of the interview...

If I were to call your boss and asked them to give me three adjectives to describe you, what would they be?

I gave the generic answer. Reliable, trustworthy, hardworking. Her second question must have sold her on my 2 question interview...

If I were to call your best friend and ask the same question, what would they say?

Not so generic. I think I laughed when I heard the question because I could picture my best friend giving her answer. The first adjectives that came to mind, crazy... Laid back... Funny. My future boss just smiled and looked genuinely happy!! I didn't know a crazy person would garner such a reaction... Usually crazy might turn an employer off. Not this one. Her answer to my answer??

I am so relieved that you said that.



You don't know how many people I've interviewed who've said that their best friend would give the same answer as their boss.

Ah. Thank you for clarifying that. For a minute you made me think that a crazy person had a shot at a real life.

Needless to say, she really did like me. She thought I would fit in perfectly and by her description of the atmosphere, I should fit right in -- my new boss seems to think so! I hope that this is the beginning of being well on my way to Athletic Training... Knock on wood.

The First Time is Always the Hardest

Just as the About Me says, I am a not-so-recent graduate of Bridgewater State. The college, not the prison -- although if you knew me in person, you'd question whether it was actually the school or not. On this upcoming first anniversary of my graduation, I've decided to tap back into my three classes away from having a minor in writing skills and start a blog about the speed bumps I face. I'm not a serious person by any means of the word -- so this blog won't contain much of that. Instead, it's all about the winding path I'm taking as an early twenty-something attempting everything there is to get myself into graduate school in order to achieve the almighty Masters degree; describing it all in a way that only I know how -- quit wit, dry humor, some stupidity, sarcasm, and a dabble of seriousness. After all, graduate school and being a responsible adult is a serious business... Who let me get this far in life thinking I could be responsible?? Shame on them!

Okay, just to annoy you, once again I am a graduate of Bridgewater State with a bachelors in Physical Education. Before you can make your assumption (and we all know that assuming makes you an ass. Get it? Assume. Don't roll your eyes now, I'm chock full of these. Get used to it.) this does not make me a gym teacher! However, my concentration is in Exercise Physiology which basically says I am a glorified personal trainer full of Jeopardy-like trivia about the human body and the effects exercise has on it. With that in mind, you might also assume that I run marathons, lift weights and shop at Whole Foods for wheat grass. I am so very far from that. Instead, I am borderline lazy, eat whatever I want (in moderation, this is my valiant attempt) and while I'm not exactly thin, I'm not exactly fat either. Lets call me a healthy plump.

This leads me to my next point. I didn't go to school to pursue a degree in Glorified Personal Training. More than anything, I wanted (and still want) a degree in Athletic Training -- and no, assume-rs, not a coach. Athletic Trainers are like EMTs, but for athletes. They handle everything from sports injury, to personal training, to healthy eating managements. In essence, they are everything in the fitness and nutrition world... For athletes. Athletic Trainers are also so pretentious that we need to capitalize the name of our profession, we do not hyphenate with the letters AT and we sure as hell will not tolerate anyone calling us trainers. We are in a league of our own -- it's a private club and unless you know the password, you're not allowed.

I think this is all show for the low pay we actually get. It's like the Napoleon complex or the one I like to use, the big truck syndrome. Men who drive a BIG truck are making up for the lack in size of their sha-na-na-na if you know what I mean.

For serious, is this truck really THAT necessary??

So Athletic Trainers like to make themselves bigger than they really seem to make up for the small yearly salary they actually make -- despite being the Gods and Goddesses of college and professional sports.

It's obviously a love of the job. If you love your job, you'll never work a day in your life.

I could go on and on about Athletic Training and prove to you how much of a nerd I really am for the subject, but this will slowly manifest itself into my blogs anyway. However, before I can actually BE an Athletic Trainer, I need to go back to school and get my Masters degree. This is where my life gets interesting...

Currently I work for a local hospital here in Massachusetts as the resident slave to a group of people who could bring you back from the dead, but could not tie their own shoelaces to save their own lives. Thus, they rely on me to do their bidding and beckon to their every call. They like to disregard the fact that I spent five years of college and learned a thing or two about a thing or two. All they know is that I can order supplies, make copies and clean the department kitchen. Funny how when I interviewed for the job I was told that I'd acquire lots of experience by helping out with patients. Well, it's kind of hard to gain experience when the patients have no relevant injuries to what I'll be working with nor is it plausible to gain experience when I am constantly being called to do silly tasks.

At the same time, I need to begin shadowing hours with various Athletic Trainers so I can get some real on the field experience before actually applying to graduate school. Not only that, Bridgewater State was wonderful enough to change their curriculum for Athletic Training... Which translates to, o hai... those classes you don't have you now need... kthnx On top of all of this, I still need to take the GREs and I would like to take a prep course to ensure that I get a good score.

What's holding me back from achieving any of this? Time. My job does not allow any room for flexibility and I suffer from claustrophobia (I recently realized that it's not just with small spaces either -- it's with real life situations as well). Seven days are not enough. Twenty-four hours are not enough. I need more days and more hours. Now I'm not a religious person but, called God about this issue; he wasn't there; I left a message.

With time lurking in places I cannot find, graduate school and the GREs loom over me constantly plaguing my fatigued mind to do what is best for me. What is best for me? Finding a new job that will benefit my needs and what is in my best interest to fulfill college experiences and requirements. Very recently and very quickly I had to learn to think for myself and not for everyone else. I had to sit down and have three people tell me not to worry about them but to worry about yourself.

I did some worrying and a little bit of searching. At the top of the pile I found a job that would greatly benefit what I want to do in graduate school and for the rest of my working years. I contemplated sending in my resume for days on end. Finally, one morning I finally submitted my resume.

I have an interview on Wednesday. I think this is God answering my phone call...