You have to give her credit.  Sometimes Momma tries to cut spending on herself (on select items) and sometimes she even tries to do good for others.  Somehow, though, things always come back to “bite” her . . .

The Drug Dilemma

Recently Momma switched insurance companies and she thought this would be a perfect opportunity to cut costs.  She had enrolled in, well, let’s just call it the Big Government benefit she had been waiting for her entire life.  She was looking forward to what she thought would be free healthcare!  She soon learned however that healthcare was not the bargain, nor as simple as, she thought it would be.

When it came to selecting a cost plan to partner with Big Government’s benefit, she was going to be selective.  No wasted premiums was her motto.  Therefore, when Big Insurance asked if she wanted an Rx plan on her policy, she said emphatically NO!  She wasn’t about to pay for a plan she would not use.  In her mind, she is still in her 20s and doesn’t use medication (none of those unsightly pill organizers with the giant letters for her!).  Plus, Big Insurance was charging about $50 extra per month for the drug plan – money that could well be spent elsewhere – on clothing for example (see below).

Her new austerity plan worked for about a week.  Then she discovered there was a prescription she needed after all.  (I’m thinking – hoping – some sort of mood stabilizer.)

When she went to pick up the pills, Momma had a rude awakening.  The pharmacist handed her a little white bag and announced, “that will be $416.00.”  Gripping the counter, Momma croaked, “There must be some mistake” (the same reaction she has when her credit card is being declined.)  There was no mistake, however – she just didn’t have drug coverage anymore.  Who knew drugs were so expensive?

On the way home, Momma did the math in her head and decided maybe the Rx thing was the way to go after all.  She was just praying that she wouldn’t have to pay a penalty – a consequence she previously chose to ignore – for adding it after her initial enrollment.  She also hoped it was still the open enrollment period.  Why did this insurance stuff have to be so complicated?  In the back of her mind of course she was already blaming Obama Care.

Resigning herself to the fact that she had made a mistake, Momma dialed Big Insurance back up.  When she finally got through to a human being, she had to do the whole enrollment process again which took the better part of the morning.  After a few torturous moments on the phone with Momma – and wanting to end the call I’m sure – the representative inquired of Momma, “Do you know how to use the Internet, dear?”

The fact that Big Insurance’s representative was lumping Momma into a category of elderly people that may not even know how to use the Internet was almost more than she could bear.  She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.  She stuck with it, though, not wanting to hang up and have to start the hellish process all over again.  (At this point, I rewarded her with a face lick!)

The Closet Catastrophe

The drug matter put to bed for the moment, Momma turned to another project she hated -cleaning out her closet.

She knew it was necessary because her closet was jammed with stuff she never wore.  She also rationalized that if she got rid of some old stuff, she would be justified in getting some new items – applying her own backwards version of the rule mandating that if one bought something new, they must get rid of something old.  And Momma had a plan for the disposal of the old clothing – she would give it to Goodwill (“It’s time to give back, Lina.”)

Filled with warm feelings of, well, goodwill, Momma hurriedly pulled things off hangers, out of drawers and off shelves and stuffed them into shopping bags.  She wanted to get this done and get it done fast – like ripping the band-aid off quickly!

The day after Momma’s frenzied purging, she went to put on her favorite pair of jeans.  The only problem was that they were no longer in her closet.  Realizing instantly what had happened, she howled, “No, Lina, no!”

How could she get them back?  Would Goodwill allow her to go through the bags she dropped off the day before?  Would they even still be there?  Would she have to buy back her own jeans if she found them?

Getting no good answers over the phone, Momma showed up bright and early to shop for her jeans at Goodwill (really could things get any worse, she thought??)  To no avail as it turned out – Momma never got her jeans back (another face lick from me).  Luckily, she has some space for new ones in her closet.

Me shopping for a pill organizer and jeans

Lina, Momma’s Rock

Woofda!