Worry-wartEdness

I've had medical coverage for as long as I can remember. There might have been a point in my childhood where I was temporarily uncovered, but I can't recall a time in my life where I couldn't simply make a doctor's appointment and pay a co-pay, or get a dental cleaning and checkup on a regular basis.

Since I am currently self-/un-/fun-employed, I do not have medical insurance. Presumably if I blow out my knee or break my nose or get a particularly bad haircut (which, in my book, mainly consists of losing a chunk of scalp and/or ear) I will have to pay for it out of pocket. Or out of credit. Or out of thin air.

Fortunately--and I know I'm jinxing it even by typing this--I haven't needed medical insurance just yet. Potter my cat has, but fortunately he's recovering nicely and has enough strength to scratch me and my couch up with renewed vigor. It makes sense that I don't need a lot of medical care at this point... I am (relatively) young and (relatively) fit and rarely stray from my apartment during the daylight hours.

In fact, from a health perspective I'm better than I've been in a while. Because I can sleep at the drop of a hat and/or whenever I feel bored or the least bit unwell, I've managed to go my entire funemployment period without a single significant bout of cold-, flu-, or Lupus-like symptoms.

Surrounded (virtually) as I am by people who have been fighting off these afflictions (not Lupus, of course; most people know that it's the "quicksand of afflictions" and is best handled by just relaxing and waiting for someone to throw you a vine) I feel a bit bad, but my advice to "quit your job!" is rarely taken.

In any case, in spite of the fact that I feel healthy and in spite of the fact that I rarely will need, statistically, a doctor, my lack of medical insurance has impacted small things in my life.

I'm more aware, now, of when I cut open a plastic-wrapped frozen pizza, for example. While I'm sure slicing my arm open with a knife is no fun whether one has medical insurance or not, I am even more careful now to cut away from myself to avoid the financial pinch that a physical slice would cause.

Another example is my right shoulder. While I'm not sure exactly when and where I first tweaked it (my suspicion is playing Tennis and Bowling on the Wii at Buddy One's place some months back), I occasionally have mini-panics about it suddenly being rendered inoperable... I don't even know why it pops and grinds when I do certain things with it, and I'm not sure how or why it would be rendered inoperable, but still I worry. It still works just fine--I can lift weights, raise the roof and motion to hookers without pain--and if I avoid sleeping on my right side all night it doesn't even cause me discomfort, but still I would hate to have to go under the knife to be able to continue to raise the roof.

Because anyone who knows me knows that without a roof being raised on a regular basis, my life is just not the same.

Other crazy flashes of concern I have include:

• Paper cuts getting infected
• Me falling down the stairs at Ozzie's
• My cell phone taking out my eyeball
• A comet hitting me while I'm showering
• Neck damage from having to kiss someone's butt to get a job

And the list goes on.

If I were always this way, I'd think there was something wrong with me. Or, rather, something wrong with me in addition to the long list that has become apparent to me and those around me in the last few years. I blame my neuroticism, though, on my lack of medical insurance.

This blog isn't a complaint, however. I'm much improved as a frozen pizza opener now due to my increased diligence and thinking about the odds of a comet striking my apartment gives me something to do to pass the time.