#i have hospital debt and i’m living paycheck to paycheck

[ddaengju]

currently daydreaming about living in manhattan again. about how my free time could be spent wandering around window shopping or reading at a park. finding cute cafés and bookstores. just really absorbing the sounds of the city finally feeling content.

#i’ve got to start playing the lottery or something because that is the only way achieving my dream of living in nyc is going to be possible #i’m so fucking sick and tired of living in delaware. of feeling stuck and tied down to this place #i am so exhausted of living this life #i don’t even care if i have to work several jobs in the city. living there is my only dream #i want to make it happen but the only way is to become rich #i’m never going to be able to afford living there with the way my life is going right now. #i have hospital debt and i’m living paycheck to paycheck #idk what the fuck i’m doing with my life and there’s nothing i can do to change it. #no amount of budgeting is going to make affording a place in manhattan possible #and that’s heartbreaking. i’m so so dissatisfied with myself. with my every day life #i can’t stand this anymore #i hate it here. i hate the person i am here. #i can’t stand the thought that my life will only ever be visiting the city #mahattan is the only place i’ve ever truly felt at home #a place where i truly belong

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 26

Hannibal, Will and y/n host a dinner to put an end to everything

@dovahdokren @deadman-inc-bikeshop @lov3vivian @wisesandwichshark @scpdragon

Trigger warnings: PTSD, violence

"Hannibal, baby," You called down from the wine cellar. "Which one pairs best with the paella?"

"A Spanish white!" Will interjected.

You rolled your eyes, then looked at his shelf full of Spanish whites. "Thanks, Hannibal."

"You're the sommelier, [F/N]." Will shouted back. "Go with your gut!"

"Verdejo it is." You said to yourself, grabbing the high-shouldered bottle from the shelf.

You returned from the cellar and headed to the dining room, where Will was dutifully setting the table.

"Well aren't you the perfect little homemaker?" You commented, making sure he caught you eyeing his backside.

Will playfully snatched the wine from your hands. "We can't all be the breadwinners, can we, Ms. Restaurant Owner?"

You laughed, looking around at your triple-income house and accepting a kiss from your Will. You put your hands on his shoulders and broke the kiss.

"You know Hannibal isn't going to let you attend one of his famous dinner parties in a flannel, right?" You warned him, lips hovering a few inches from his face.

"Two guests is not a dinner party." Will corrected you. "I figured you'd know this after six months but, baby, Hannibal is always overdressed for everything."

"Better overdressed than the other way around, my treasure." Hannibal said, standing in the threshold. "Why don't you go slip in to that suit I bought you?"

Will threw his hands up. "Do you two just live to gang up on me? You know I can buy my own clothes, right?"

You scoffed. "Babe, you spent your last paycheck almost entirely at Bass Pro Shops-"

"And then we spent the day workshopping new seafood dishes for the restaurant with the fish I caught." Will shrugged. "You don’t get to benefit from it then complain."

You put up your hands in surrender. "Fair enough."

"So I don't make an ordeal out of this in front of guests," Hannibal said, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out two small drawstring bags and gave one to each of you. "Happy six months, my darlings."

"Six month anniversary presents?" Will laughed. "What are we, high school students?"

"Do you not want it?" Hannibal raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't say that." He mumbled.

You opened the bag and slid the contents into your hand. A beautiful solid white ring with ornate carvings tumbled out.

"It's beautiful." You smiled, sliding it on to your finger. "What is it?"

"A ring, my indulgence." Hannibal chuckled.

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Sure, but what is it made of?"

He hesitated for a moment. "Ivory."

"Should I be concerned that you somehow know both of our ring sizes?" Will asked, admiring how his fit perfectly on his finger. 

“I think you mean ‘thank you, Hannibal’.” You corrected him. “Even if it is a little uncanny.”

The doorbell rang. Hannibal threw a dish towel over his shoulder and pointed to Will.

"Go change." He ordered. "I will not have my guests seeing you in such an unsightly state."

"It's Jack and [F/N]'s friend." Will protested.

"Sure, I'll get the door." You said. "Gee, thanks [F/N], that would be so helpful!"

You opened the door with a smile.

"Agent Crawford!" You greeted, shaking his hand.

"Oh, please." He laughed. "Call me Jack."

"And this must be Bella." You said, offering his wife your hand. "Jack has told me all about you."

"So you're the infamous [F/N] [L/N]?" Bella accepted with a smile. "It's so nice to meet you."

Jack removed his hat and coat, then handed you a bag. "For you."

"You shouldn't have." You said, knowing immediately that it was wine. Then you pulled it out of the bag. Your eyes went wide and your jaw hung open.

"Holy shit you really shouldn't have." You repeated.

Jack shrugged and smiled smugly. "I pulled some strings in evidence. Figured you might want it."

You threw your arms around his neck, keeping a tight grip on the 1907 Heidsieck Monopole.

"Hey, do I get a hug?" Said another voice.

Charissa waved to you from the porch.

"Holy shit, hey!" You opened your arms. Charissa jumped into your embrace and squeezed you. She'd always hugged you tighter after seeing you half-alive in a hospital bed with your seldom-seen lovers at your bedside.

"Jack, this is my friend Charissa Rodriquez." You introduced. "She was the one who sent you the address."

"So you're 'tip', huh?" Jack's face lit up. "The FBI owes you a debt of gratitude, Ms. Rodriquez."

"Tip?" You said, looking at both Jack and Charissa.

"The address we received came from an obvious burner email." Jack explained. "We thought it was from Chase, so we arrived with a ton of backup anticipating an attack. Turns out we needed it."

Charissa shrugged. "I thought you could never be too careful."

"Well, intentional or not," Jack said. "You helped us a lot."

"You're Charissa Rodriquez?" Will said from the staircase. He wore a grey suit with a dark blue dress shirt that fit him scarily well considering he hadn't even tried it on.

"Enchanté, monsieur." Charissa said, eyeing him up with a hungry smile. "You must be Will."

"Down, girl." You crossed your arms. Your tone was playful, but had a slight threatening bite. "He's all mine."

"Not all yours." Hannibal corrected, entering the scene to finally greet his guests. "Agent Crawford, Bella, Ms. Rodriquez, welcome."

"Wow." Charissa said, dumbfounded. "I feel like I'm meeting a celebrity."

"Oh, surely the rumors unraveled after the old place went out of business." Hannibal answered. "There are far more interesting things to talk about than myself."

"Very few, but they do exist." Jack commented.

Charissa folded her arms. "Like the bartender who stood up to a psychotic cult leader and found two wonderful boyfriends to take care of her?"

"I've heard that one!" You added. "I hear she bought the restaurant for next to nothing after it became a stigmatized property."

Carissa narrowed her eyes at you. "I still cannot believe you told him."

You shrugged. "I think it all worked out."

Hannibal gathered everyone around the table and tasked you with pouring the wine.

"Surely you know why I've invited you here tonight." He asked, taking a seat at the head. "The high courts have ruled Chase's death a suicide."

"Cheers to that." Will said, raising his glass.

"Nobody actually believes it was a suicide." Jack clarified, trying not to look at you too obviously. "But the jury didn't want to dignify him with a proper homicide ruling."

Charissa glared at you, not trying to not be obvious. "Only one person at the table knows for sure."

You shook your head. "I hit my head really hard, the details are just not there."

"But [F/N]'s DNA was on the gun." Bella added.

"But not her fingerprints." Jack said. "It was saliva. We think he tried to choke her with his fingers before reaching for the gun."

"Did you ever find that finger?" Charissa said like it was nothing.

Jack, who was more interested in the paella than the conversation, shook his head. "Never."

Your eyes widened. You left the finger with the gun, you were sure of it.

"Must we discuss the gory details over dinner?" Will said, sensing your discomfort.

Charissa rested her chin in her hands. "Would you rather talk about your three-person couple?"

"I distinctly remember spitting the finger out." You insisted.

"We found so many pieces of bone in that room," Jack continued. "It's genuinely of far less concern than the dynamite lining the walls and bunker full of cocaine, stolen medical supplies and baby coffins."

"And the stained glass window made of human skin." You added.

"You know a case is fucked when a lost finger is of the least concern." Charissa commented.

"The important thing is that it's over." Will said. "He's dead and [F/N] is alive."

Bella smiled at you. "God really is looking out for you, [F/N]."

You forced a smile, telling yourself that Bella had the best intentions. But her good intentions revived Chase's voice in your head, which was a voice you'd spent the last six months trying to forget. You tightened your grip on your utensils to relieve some tension, but it didn’t work.

The table went quiet, waiting for Bella to realize her mistake. Will put his hand over yours and looked into your eyes. He mouthed the word 'breathe' and some similar affirmations.

Hannibal raised his head, knowing the light casting shadows on his face intimidated people. "Ms. Bella, we generally don't talk religion here."

She covered her mouth with her fingertips. "I'm so sorry, [F/N], I just meant-"

You put your hand up. "Please, just don't."

"The important thing is that [F/N] recovered forty missing women and reunited them with their families." Will said. "And there was no divine presence involved in that."

You smiled softly. "I'll drink to that."

"And you'll also be happy to know that the woman who assisted him in luring all those girls into the cult," Jack added. "She's looking at twenty-five to life without parole."

"What about the babies?" Bella piped up. "Weren't there, like, at least twelve newborns?"

"That's where the department of family and child services took over." Jack answered. "Whether the biological mothers kept them or put them up for adoption is out of our hands, but I do know each child was thoroughly examined and are all up to date on their shots."

"Seriously, though." Charissa interjected. "How do you misplace an entire finger?"

"It's one of the easier appendages to misplace." Hannibal answered, speaking with experience. "I heard it wasn't just the one that you couldn't find."

Jack looked up from his plate, confused. "Now how did you know about that?"

"The man took a 12 gauge bullet directly to the hand, Jack." Hannibal said with a small chuckle. "It's more likely you find no fingers than any at all."

"The bones will turn up somewhere." Jack said, resignedly. 

He just happened to say the word “bones” as you were glancing at your ring. 

You smiled a little too wide. “They just might.”  

#hannibal lecter #hannibal x you #hannibal x reader #hannibal nbc #the sommelier #will graham #will graham x reader #will graham x you #hannibal x you x will #hannigram x reader #hannibal x reader x will

[rothjuje]

Met with our realtor here. The plan is to list early April and close early May. She’s going to come do a walk through in February to let us know if there’s anything to work on before they come take pictures mid March. We’re going to ask for a 30 day rent back in the listing and she says if the market stays this hot it shouldn’t be an issue.

I am ecstatic to move, really truly, I think about it constantly. But I’m also apparently sad because I had emotional whiplash after our meeting and started to cry. Justin was like, “is crying your response to every emotion?” Umm yep. Yep it is. So happy to leave, so so happy to say goodbye to Texas. So heartbroken to leave our frozen babies and all the memories and friends we’ve made.

I had some more emotional whiplash this morning. Was talking to my sister’s BFF (my close friend that moved here with us) about Halloween and she started to plan next year’s. I had to quietly remind her that we won’t be here and Oy. Just about shattered my heart. My kids are going to lose their auntie and their honorary grandma across the street.

I try not to think about it, but the truth is we don’t know anybody out there. I have a close friend about 6 hours away and Justin has some relatives I don’t remember meeting. It was so hard to move here and we both had close friends that came with.

I’m excited, really I am. But I’m also scared and emotional.

Sigh.

Anyway. We got officially pre-approved up there for an insane amount. Could easily afford a house in CA amount.

It’s crazy to think about. When we first moved here in 2014, we were too broke to afford furniture. For two weeks our only furniture was an air mattress. Yes we had his relocation package (10k but most of it was spent on a pod, the road trips over, the plane flights, and first and last months’ rent).

We lived paycheck to paycheck until after the wedding. It’s so weird that in less than a decade we’re here financially. I guess it makes sense though. We started with 9k of student loan and credit card debt. We both had car payments. Justin was making half of what he’s making now.

In 2018 we spent every penny we had on a down payment for our house. In 2019 we spent every penny we had on IVF and an embryo transfer. In 2020 we spent every penny we had on hospital and NICU bills. We’ve managed to save since then and I think we’ll be okay out there, even with the higher cost of living. We are so lucky (and very privileged).

[ernestsinclairs]

How Rich Are You?? - OH Edition

Welcome to the MONEY Series, where I draw up how rich everybody is. Here, I estimate how rich all the OH LIs are because literally everyone likes cash, not just me. 

Ethan: Okay, he’s the only exception to this rule because he’s been in this doctor game for far longer than any of us. I thought he would be drowning in that fat doctor’s paycheck but nope! He only takes a $1 salary to help the 

hospital and lives off investments. Now the bad news is that you aren’t going to reap that paycheck. The good news is however, is that he has BANK. It’s mentioned that his apartment is in a pricey neighborhood and he has a good car and obviously lives well. To have enough return on investments (profit) to live that well in such an expensive city, Ethan has to have a pretty hefty investment portfolio. I did some research on Boston housing prices and the apartments that look like his in the book costs about $9500/month. Based on that and his other expenses, I then calculated how much money he has invested using the standard rate of return for portfolios. Ladies and gentlemen, Ethan Jonah Ramsey has around $2.25 million in assets.

Probably Owns: Rents a banging penthouse style apartment in Boston, a really nice car (as mentioned in OH), and a really cute dog. I wouldn’t be surprised if he has a vacation home -- not a mansion in the Hamptons but more of a rugged cabin in some random mountain where he can “be free” and “achieve peak grumpiness”.

Bryce: I’m not going to sugar coat it -- Bryce is broke af. It’s my theory he grow up more low income and he also mentioned wanting to get away form his parents for college. From that, we can guess he didn’t use daddy’s money for college. By my estimate, Bryce entered Stanford in 2011. Stanford’s policy back then was that if your family made less than $60k, everything from tuition to room and board is free. Therefore, Bryce probably skated through. HOWEVER, Stanford Med is expensive and we know Bryce is in debt because he commented on it in the book. Taking loans, grants, aid, and his bartending work in consideration, Bryce is probably $150k in the hole. But he is a surgeon and he mentions liking Kyra’s lung surgery and boasting about holding a human heart. If he goes into cardiothoracic surgery (heart and lung), that’s a median salary of $469k.

Probably Owns: His swagger, underlying family issues, and a dying liver from too much college tequila.

Jackie: Jackie, like Bryce, is pretty broke. Luckily, she went to Harvard which is the richest school in the nation. Their policy back in 2011 when she entered was that you only pay 10% of your income towards tuition even if your family was wealthier (and I do think Jackie’s family was richer than Bryce’s). Med school is where the headache begins though. Looking at tuition rates and living costs, Jackie’s probably $175k in debt. Now, let’s say Jackie goes for a super competitive medical fellowship so she can be a cardiologist or something (which is totally a thing she would do). That’s a median wage of $438k in Boston. Ka-ching!

Probably Owns: A mountain of overpriced textbooks, her dignity, and plenty of roasts for Bryce.

Rafael: So this beautiful boy went to the local community college which is DEFINITELY cheaper than eight years at a private college and medical school. I’m pretty sure he has little, if not no debt as he’s surely paid it off with the help of grants and financial aid at this point. However, he’s definitely not wealthy as the average EMT salary in Boston is $31k. Also, this boy is too nice to leave his family behind and I’m certain that he’s caring for his grandma financially. Maybe he has like . . . $1k in savings but that’s it for my beautiful EMT boy.

Probably Owns: The clothes on his back and his grandmother’s undying love and affection.

Kyra and Aurora: Okay, here’s where everything gets a little murky. I have very few clues on these two. The only substantive thing I can say is that Aurora is definitely around Jackie’s level of debt and for Kyra, I can’t say. I might figure out more as OH2 goes on, and I’ll probably update then. 

Probably Owns: Being their own, fantastic characters even if they get shafted by PB sometimes. 

#open heart #oh #open heart 2 #oh2 #bryce lahela #ethan ramsey #rafael aveiro #jackie varma #bryce lahela x mc #ethan ramsey x mc

[aleatoryalarmalligator]

Okay, so let me take this back to a week or two ago.

I owe one of my roommates 1200 dollars. My rent is 800 bills included. I make ten dollars over what counts for me getting no food stamps of financial assistance. I kept going to this job, because i was hoping that an opening would soon happen for me to get a job that i had before the closure of the other location. The explanation of this, in order to make it remotely interesting, would be a story in and of itself and would take too long.

I have had a rough go of it. I fell back into an eating disorder this winter, i went to home feeling sick and cold and heartbroken. Every night. I was completely isolated, i never went to anyone's house, i stopped even seeing a future for myself. the best days i had were ones where i would walk around the mall and stare at clothing i couldn't afford. Because the guy i was in love with randomly flipped on me one morning and told me to leave. I felt completely used, and gross about myself, and i just stopped eating. My bus home always took an hour and a half, i was shaking starving and so fucking poor that even if i wanted to eat more i couldn't afford it. I wanted to cry on the bus after work every night, but i forced myself to choke it down. I listened to last podcast on the left constantly to entertain myself. I texted him even though he had hurt me, and he ran back and apologized after, but somehow it was never the same. I'm not even mad. It just wasn't the same.

Anyway, i snapped about three weeks ago. I woke up, did my budget, and realize the reason i was having such a hard time was that i was literally not making enough money. Everything was about suppression and reduction of needs, to the point where i had very few enjoyments, and i was becoming so lonely i was becoming neurotic. And the more neurotic and lonely i became, i feel like the less people would want to hang out with me. After awhile, any attention i got from this guy was better than nothing. If i didn't have someone that paid some attention to me i was losing my will to even get up in the morning. Because what is the point of getting up for nothing, to do another day that makes you sad, with no purpose or friends? I felt like i was withering away, and nobody would even notice when i was finally just gone. I mean, maybe that is for the best, but i don't know. I feel like the initial love i poured into coming to this city has become dark and uncertain, and i miss the early days a lot. I feel like i am always chasing a feeling, that i am whatever chemical combination is hitting my neurotransmitters.

I made the decision to find a better job, realizing I wasn't going to get out of this mess unless i had money to at least rid myself of the basic and constant fear of not having enough. I'm tired of being in debt. So, i kinda did that. I ended up getting offered this job, and i just let myself run around with my money moreso, for the last few weeks with the mindset that i would have at least seven hundred more a month. I stopped dieting (unfortunately gaining back some weight). It's not that i don't need to diet, but i need something to distract myself if i am going to run around shaking with hunger all the time. I can't live on self hatred, at least not for too long.

Then, the covid 19 virus just started spreading, and at first it was nothing, but then i kind of turned into this thing where sickly people are going down in numbers.  And now nobody is going to hire me because all restaurants are closed and the economy fell apart and everyone is pretty scared, i got laid off from the place i work at now, which i feel like it's not even going to reopen at this point. Thousands of workers in the city just like me now have no way to pay their rent, meanwhile the hospitals will likely continue to fill with patients, and grocery stores are half empty, and this is just a small taste of what the future likely holds. So even when this virus comes and goes and does it's damage, i think things like this are just going to keep happening. And rich people will be fine, but poor people won't be. I mean, funny memes aside. Our entire economic system and healthcare system and so many things are going to collapse in my lifetime, it seems futile to even try to make it now. I know that sounds really pesimistic.

The last few weeks i have been meeting him in secret, but he's not really cuddly like before, and he seems like he wants me to be gone when he's done with me, and he dotes on his other friends and I just feel very taken for granted and when we are with our friends who aren't supposed to know, i just don't feel like someone he's that excited to be around. And he seems to engage in conversation, but with me he just kind of talks over me to imply i am dumb, and i get tired of that. Honestly, there is nothing endearing about it. It's insulting and tiring and i am so deeply worried about the world around me, that even my own heartbreak seems like nothing. I am genuinely very scared about the state of the world, and even an idea relationship would not save me from this. Like, yeah, i feel really used and hurt, but also we are losing animal species and the ocean is polluted and there is a pandemic, and overpopulation in certain areas of the world that are going to be swallowed by global warming. Sometimes this train of thought takes me into an entire three sixty because i wonder if it isn't just best to enjoy every person and experience for what it is because my life might not give me that much to look forward to in the future, and there is only so much i can do to fix the world or the people in it. Do i really want to put my foot down and tell him i don't want to see him anymore, when he's the only person i have, and i know too that he struggles with addiction?

Furthermore, my brother panicked and lost his mind and went on attack towards my sister who he was living with, and now he's moving back with my abusive parents. That's a whole story in and of itself. And that is that. I won't be seeing him anymore. He was so scared about economic and societal collapse. And then my workplace wrote me and said they don't have money to even give me my last paycheck, and i am lucky that my old dad is working overtime at the factory to send me money. Honestly, i was panicked before, but now i just feel resigned and afraid. It helps that there is no way i can get evicted right now, but at this point i just have a bad feeling that things are just going to keep getting worse.

I feel like poor people are being spread too thin, and it's going to eventually create a sense of rage. It's been happening for a long time. They just keep cutting programs, or making it harder to afford rent, or go to school. For instance, i have a friend who is an ambulance driver. He makes twelve dollars an hour, he's literally scraped up dead children off the side of the road, but he doesn't get free healthcare. If he ends up on the other end of his ambulance van he's fucked. It's stuff like this that is unbelievable. You'd think someone with his job of all people would be more than entitled to free healthcare, not that we all don't, but like, it might come with some benefits given he works in the industry and the level of seriousness his job entails. But there aren't any. And truly, he doesn't even make as much hourly as someone who works in a restaurant. It's nonsense. And it's accepted. And we need ambulance drivers.

Anyway, there is a lot that branches off. I don't know what direction i should go in, the mental health aspect of myself, or my family dynamics, the economy, the healthcare industry, my personal strifes, my conflicting relationship stuff, or what the future holds. All i can say is i feel terribly alone and terribly scared and it's hard to articulate it or feel grounded in myself at all. Sometimes it's like a numbness that tells you to keep pushing forward because it's the routine and it's supposed to lead to somewhere, right? I feel like in the last year, i am learning how to put my foot down and say no. I am learning to love people and know i am not loved back, and not even care anymore. I am also exhausted. When i am not around people, i fall asleep. A mysterious exhaustion i have never had before has taken over and i really just want to sleep for days and days straight, and some little part of me just wonders if it wouldn't be better if i didn't wake up again. I am not suicidal, but what's the point?

And I guess lastly, who am I to even complain? So many people have had it worse and now everyone is falling apart and struggling around me, so I am nothing special. It’s just hard to know what to do right now. There seems to be no distraction from the nothingness of it all.

[dracoskullonmain]

The moment i realized my own mother was a failure of a human.

[Warning: the following is a rant.] so, i’m mostly screaming this to the void of tumblr, but i need to get this off of my chest. I realized over the past week that my mother, the woman who gave birth to me, is an utter failure as a mother, a daughter, and a human being. Background: I come from a toxic home. The main culprit is my biological father Charles. He’s everything that is toxic masculinity rolled into one trashbag and given a massive paycheck. Since i was born, i have lived in fear of him. He put holes in walls with fists and feet, smashed tables, chairs, lights, and couches with bare hands. He can and has hurled engine blocks across the garage, smashed a window with a digger, thrown a crowbar down the hall, and taken a belt to my ass so much that i couldn’t sleep for three nights.  And he used his strength in conjunction with his financial wealth to rule the house with an iron fist. It was his house, his rules, his internet, his this and that and blah blah blah. Everything was his even if you bought it with your own money. Once, he decided it was a suitable punishment for not paying attention to take my Nintendo SP, a gift from my recently deceased great grand mother, and throw it into the wall to smash it to pieces. 

i can recite a list of incidents that could fill up a 50 page book just from memory, which is sad since i have memory issues, and have forgotten even more. But on Sunday, i learned a new truth about my family: My mother is an accomplice to all his actions.  It never fully dawned on me until she called me, mid day, to inform me that a week earlier my elderly grandmother had gotten into an argument with my dad, and became so desperate to get out that she got in her electric scooter (she cant walk anymore) and try to drive away. if she hadn’t gotten stuck in a ditch just outside, she would be missing today because my father would have watched her leave without a care in the world. Unfortunately, in getting out of the ditch thanks to the local police and fire department, she tried to drive up the driveway unattended since my father wouldn’t come down to help her as he was too angry with her. She fell into another ditch, gashing her leg wide open. She has been in the hospital for a few days now, with a nasty infection in the muscle tissue of her leg and foot.  and my mother, the woman who raised me, who gave birth to me, who’s job it was to protect me from the moment i came into this world, had the fucking audacity to try to paint it as my grandmother’s fault. Why? because my grandma yelled at my grandpa.  See, he has a rapid form of Dementia, which at this point has left him a husk of his former self. for the longest time he was the one who took care of grandma. It came on quickly, and robbed him. Now he cannot function, and Grandma needs someone besides my asshole of a father to do things for her cause she’s got a decaying spine and severe arthritis. So without a family beyond me and a cousin to confide in, and no support network to speak of, she lashes out sometimes. she needs help. What’s he do? Decides to yell at her for yelling at grandpa. And he gets mean. He’ll attack any vulnerability he can find to win. He’s savage, and he’s attacking an old woman verbally. He also locked her out of the house when she left! So ya. She’s sitting there, telling me it’s grandma’s fault she’s practically dead, with a horrible infection that could go Sepsis at any time and weak kidneys that cant fight that off.  I know my grandma. i cared for her on my own for a year. i listened to the bullshit everyone had about her. And she tries to claim she’s doing her best. And that’s when it hit me. She’s not going after my dad for yelling at my grandma and driving her out of the house... She’s going after my grandma. She chose her fucking deadbeat, abusive, manipulative, volatile husband over her own fucking mother, who she PROMISED to care for.  And she thinks, in some twisted way, that i will side with her on it. She didn’t even have the fucking guts to tell me WHEN IT HAPPENED.  She’s allowed my dad to abuse my grandma verbally... And she allowed him to abuse me. my brother. my sister. Thats why we all left when we had the chance. My sister got knocked up by a guy she barely knew at 16 and took the chance to bail on my mom and dad, because she knew mom couldn’t protect her. Mom’s promises are empty hollow lies because she doesn’t have the guts to stand up to my dad. My brother tried to leave at 24, planning for years until he had enough friends in on a plan to move out together. the only reason he moved back in was because his dead beat girlfriend (now ex-wife because she decided after literally 11 months of marriage that she didn’t love him!) was bleeding cash all over the place and left him poor.  And me? When my friend i didn’t very well like invited me to move in with him in new york, i fucking took it. It was only because the other two roommates bailed on us and i wasn’t able to cover their fucking debts after i lost my job due to illness that i moved back to my parents. At which point when the offer to care for my grandma came up, i fucking threw myself at the chance.  It was because we all knew that house was unsafe so long as Charles lives in it, and we all knew deep down my mom’s promises that he will change and her constant “he’s made such improvements” were the ramblings of an abuse victim who’s so delusional that she honestly believes it’s better to live in a house where getting beaten, threatened, yelled at, and having personal belongings at constant risk of being destroyed then to live poor but safe.  Six years ago i ran away from home. I ended up trapped at a local library, hiding from a storm because i couldn’t take my father’s abuse anymore. She came to me there, and begged me to return home. She promised me that if he ever shouted or threatened or hurt me again, she’d divorce him on the spot. She lied to me.  I endured five years of additional abuse on-top of my already long list. i could make entire classes of childcare or social communications students turn white with just a few stories of what he did to me. My therapist asked me why i never called child protective services on him as a kid, and it occurred to me because i was taught by media and other families at the time that being abused like that was fine.  And now he’s abusing my grandma. He’s threatening her life. And my mom just sits there and lets him. She does nothing but justify in her own twisted mind that incurring his wrath is somehow our own fault for not keeping out of his way, as if it was possible to know what was in and out of his fucking way. And as i write this, i realize the real reason i’m upset with her. She is an abuse victim like the rest of us, and deserves some understanding... But that ends when you let others get abused by them. She knows he’s cruel. she knows he’s unhinged. she knows he’s volatile and savage. And she WILLINGLY brought my grandmother into that home, putting her in danger after lying to her about the house.  And for that, i cant forgive her. I will never forgive her. She let him hurt everyone, and just sat there. She couldn’t even run away. Right now, he’s jobless because of covid19. she has a job with the local police as dispatch. She has the power in their relationship for once. And she lets him have control.

I’m tired and full of hatred. How can a mother let this happen to her family? Why? i will never respect her again. I will never listen to her again. And when she grows old and needs help like my grandma does, i will not sully my life to accommodate her when she couldn’t be bothered to protect her kids or parents from him. ... how sad is this? At least for now, i feel a bit better. If you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading. I’m gonna go play some games and not spiral anymore. goodnight everyone!

#Dracoskull speaks #rant #Abusive parenting

[lovelyirony]

55. “Just smile. I really need you to smile right now.” Tony and Sharon

Sharon is known for being the cousin that mediates most family drama. She’s the one who calms down the arguments that are from heated political debates, drags grandpa away before he can make a comment about the newest girlfriend introduced. 

She’s the mediator, always there with a kind smile and a positive attitude. 

So Tony’s a little surprised when she joins SHIELD, even though she takes classes for dance, language, and marksmanship. He’s always thought of SHIELD as a super-secret agency filled with stoic people and Aunt Peggy, who takes everything seriously and makes a super bad sweet potato casserole that no one eats and they all take turns throwing it away when Sharon distracts her. 

Sharon’s always good at distraction. Tony knows this, has known it since he was twelve and she was nine and she managed to get the last of the pie that he had served himself. 

But she could never keep a secret from him, and she knows that. She doesn’t even try to hide it when she comes to his apartment because she still lives close to her parents and she can’t bear them to see the stitches in her thigh. 

“Mission gone wrong,” she says, voice harsher. 

“Where at?” Tony asks. 

“Just local. A couple of bad guys in the wrong part of town.” 

“Too close to politics?” 

“Got it in one.” 

Tony’s silent because he’s not sure what else to say. 

“How can I help?” he asks finally. 

“Don’t ask,” Sharon warns, smiling. “It’s all fine.” 

“You can say that when you need to get Aunt Josie out of the kitchen when she tries to take over cooking the turkey, not about a secret mission,” Tony says. “Because you have stitches in your thigh and you came to me, who is the Bad Cousin Example for the next two or so generations.” 

Sharon smiles. 

“And what, am I suppose to pretend you don’t make jokes and make the uncles mad at you to distract from the other cousins that we all know would get it worse?” 

"Yes,” Tony says, “you’re supposed to do exactly that. Except not pretend, because I don’t do that out of kindness. I do it because if I have to hear one more damn speech from one of our uncles about ‘the good old days’ I’m going to go feral,” Tony remarks. 

Sharon smiles and asks for a beer. 

“You’re a baby, barely over twenty-one,” Tony teases, handing her a beer anyway. “But tell me how you beat the bad guys.” 

-

She doesn’t always give specifics with her missions. He’s not expecting her to. But she comes home and she still smiles and he loves that about her. 

It’s when he comes home with the taste of sand and blood in his mouth and a defined legacy when she smiles gently and asks whether or not they have time to stop for a burger. 

“The shittiest burger imaginable,” Tony says. “Because I’m not going to your fancy place. To Burger King.” 

“The hospital!” Pepper yells. “Oh my god Happy, don’t you dare...” 

“I’m the one who has to sign your paychecks,” Tony says. “Burger King.” 

Sharon gets caught up in something soon after Iron Man is born. He can’t keep a secret from her, but she can keep a secret from SHIELD. He’s depending on that. 

And it’s when he gets palladium poisoning and she knows. She’s listened to enough rants about his inventing to know that palladium is dangerous with exposure ratings. 

She does not smile. Her lips tremble and her eyes are wide as she crawls closer. 

“Please smile for me,” Tony asks, eyes watering. “Please.” 

“How can I?” Sharon whispers. “How can I smile when I know you’re dying?” 

They sit in silence for a few moments. Tony looks out at a skyline that he’s quite sure he doesn’t have too much longer to see every night. 

“Let us help,” Sharon adds quietly. 

“And have me owe your company? You guys don’t do anything without a motive,” Tony says. 

“I’ll owe them, not you.” 

“Fury’s not that stupid,” Tony adds. Sharon looks to him. “I’m not totally clueless. Keep your enemies close and all that.” 

“You saying SHIELD is your enemy?” 

“No, I’m just saying they’re not on my Christmas mailing list for a reason,” Tony retorts. “I don’t care. They’ll have us both owing debts and cashing in at the most inopportune times.” 

“You’re dying.” 

“And I can manage,” Tony says harshly. “God knows there are other people who can take over my job, my life. And maybe...maybe this is how it’s meant to be.” 

“It’s not,” Sharon says, scowling. “Because you’re Tony, who refuses to eat the gravy every year out of spite because Aunt Angie told you that one day you’d like it and you want to see how long you can go with disliking it and not trying it in front of her. You make robots that are sad when they can’t press an elevator button and then you make sure they can. No one else here is like you, so quit that and start fucking looking. You find different angles, so stop looking at the same ones and start the big picture of your life.” 

The Stark Expo. Because of course his old man is still schooling him in some aspects. It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth until the coconut and metal hit. 

But Sharon smiles, and then he forgets how to do anything but smile back and promise to not make her sit at the kids table for Christmas if she can go. 

“Deal,” Sharon says, grinning. “But you have to bring a home-cooked item and make everyone try it.” 

“I can cook,” Tony says defensively. “I just don’t keep track of time very well and thus am banned from using family heirlooms.” 

“And using stovetops at different houses,” Sharon giggles. “I’ll see you soon. Go kick ass and don’t sass Nick. You know how he hates it.” 

“I’m gonna,” Tony responds. “Tell Natasha that the long curls aren’t a good look.” 

“I definitely won’t.” 

#sharon and tony: a duo #sharon carter #tony stark #sharon and tony are the ultimate cousins who are the closest and bond a lot #loveyirony writes #pepper potts #iron man #agent 13

[rkmuse]

The Republicans...Oh God...You Don’t Want Socialism!

The Republican chant is that Socialism is to be feared. There are also Democrats who reject the idea of Socialism. Are you aware that we already have Socialism in the USA, but it exists only for the wealthiest, and that includes our Congress and Government employees. Most of the members in Congress have become some or the healthiest and wealthiest in our country based on how long they’ve been in office. They’re multi-millionaires and billionaires which has become the norm.

Congress obstructed the Constitution and voted collectively to govern themselves. They give themselves extravagant benefits, raises, and if they get in trouble Congress judges them and not a court of law such as what the majority of the people are judged by. They have a great salary for the time they put in, The best health insurance, their travel is paid for, retirement funds, they take lobbying money, and so many more benefits that include even schooling for their children. When they get ready to retire, many times their children end up running, and it becomes a family business of sorts, and it’s difficult to remove someone who has been in Congress for 40 or more years. They are touts to the lobbiest for huge banks and corporations who count on them to vote a certain way, and their paid well for doing just that. Both parties in Congress are violating what is written in the Constitution. That needs to be on the list of what needs to be changed. The Founders anticipated greed and constructed it as such.

 Large corporations reap even more benefits, they often pay no taxes, and they are the recipients of huge tax breaks from the President. Trump just gifted all his friends, and himself, a huge tax break. When the stimulus came out, huge corporations took the money first, and little was left for small businesses. The very small businesses got nothing and many went out of business. One fat cat was in debt way before the virus. A private airline company Trump knew. He got 10 million from the stimulus and saved his business. The rich have always had a form of socialism and that goes for the President on down to state and city government workers. When they retire from Congress they are mostly all multi millionaires with huge retirement funds, healthcare, and they can take their (pittance) Social Security as well if they paid into it. There is no justice for everybody that harms nobody. When it comes to healthcare that is a right not a privilege. Of course they don’t want the majority of the people to have what they have. They would argue that it would be too costly. After all....they may suffer. Right. The Taxpayers are paying for their own expenses, and constantly fighting for equality through decent healthcare etc. Prescriptions and Big Pharma are a separate issue. 

Trump and the Republicans want to take away Social Security, Medicare, and not cover pre-existing conditions, and that will really only affect the majority of the people. Any Government official is fine. Isn’t it odd that politicians will only talk about the majority of the people getting Obamacare which they say is so good, but it’s not as good as the healthcare that Congress has, and that the taxpayer pays for. Why doesn’t the Congress also have Obamacare? Why do they get more sophisticated plans and pay nothing, or very little?

Social Security is not a gift from the government. People work all their lives and pay into it. Around 66 they can retire, and get a set amount. On occasion, the government will give you a minuscule raise while raising the price of the Medicare that is automatically taken out of your Social Security check. I know what my mother had, and how it worked. Her raise was minuscule when she got one which wasn’t that often. The government has borrowed from the Social Security fund over the decades, and probably never paid it back. It’s your money that was taken out of your paycheck every week when you worked toward your social security and your Medicare. When you retire, the government takes out of your pension a charge for Medicare.  Medicare only pays for 80% and you’re responsible for the remaining 20%. Most people end up taking out GAP insurance (which they pay for themselves) to cover the 20%. That is getting to a big chunk out of just a Social Security check. Trump went into the hospital, had the best care possible, and didn’t pay anything. Why is one human life more important than another whether he’s the President or not.  Everyone in our government has better healthcare then the majority of the people who actually pay for and the quality isn’t the same. So the rich get richer and the poor get poorer. 

We can do better. We have to do better. Congress has to stop governing themselves, and be responsible to the same laws as the people when they break the law. Right now, if a member of Congress does something wrong they’re judged by their piers in the Congress, and they may get a slap on the wrist but no jail time. An example, is Martha Stewart.She was charged with insider trading years ago. She went to prison for 1 year. Right after that, Bill Frist (Senator) did the same thing, only he was judged by the Senate, he got a slap on the wrist and eventually resigned. Fair? I don’t think so.  Congress - The House and Senate, is in violation of the Constitution. The Constitution advocates term limits. You serve a term, and you go back into the pubic arena. Someone else serves a term and then goes back into the public arena etc. etc. Congress turned their positions into a full lifetime career where they keep getting elected and raise money from people who want to keep them in there, so they can count on your vote. Campaign finance. The Republicans got the SCOTUS to open the floodgates to super pacs, and unlimited amounts that corporations and the wealthiest can dump into an election. Then candidates are beholding to the people who donate such vast amounts of money and they vote the way the huge donners want them to vote. If this sounds crooked, it’s because it is.

I’m waiting for people to demand the same healthcare as the Congress has which I’m sure includes dental, vision, everything...and maybe even plastic surgery (lol - forget I said that one) but maybe it does. It’s a Cadillac plan. No person running for office will ever suggest the people get the same healthcare as they get even though you the taxpayer pays for theirs.  

We have so many changes that need to be made and Joe Biden is going to have to be the one to step up to the plate and begin instigating them. But...the people have to organize and demand it. The government won’t just do it. If it’s up to them it will always be inferior. Crumbs not the whole cookie. I do know people that aren’t happy with Obamacare. option 1 - Either the majority of the people need to have the same healthcare as our Congress, or option 2 - Congress needs to take Obamacare, the same healthcare as the majority of the people. I’m sure if the Congress had option 2, they’d work like heck to get option 1 for everyone if they were treated equal to the majority that they are supposed to represent.

#rkmuse

[ixeliema]

Please help/share if you can!

I know times are really hard right now, especially financially, but if you have a spare few dollars or got a bigger paycheck than usual and you won’t miss it, there’s someone out there who really could use your help. If nothing else, please share this link and story around! Amanda Reece deserves to have a roof over their head, and to live a painless life. They’re not yet to half of their goal!

AS OF NOV 18TH 2020 I will be homeless because I havent been able to pay for my place in 3 months because of my disability being cancelled. I have no family, no friends, no one who is financially equip to take in someone as sick as I am full time. I have hospital visits either every week or every other week, I'm still taking new medications here and there and nothing is helping me improve in any aspect of my health. I've been homeless 3 times this year alone, I'm terrified of it happening again because my health does decrease more and more with any stress and of course exposure to elements. I need help. Facing the stress ive had to fleeing abuse these last few months has taken a toll on my health signifigantly. I have 3 diseases and require methotrexate 10mg injections which are over 90.00- once every week. The cost of the injections and just to live a painless and normal life is something only a rich person could afford. On top of that, I'm not covered AT ALL by MSP and I'm in 30,000 medical debt which means I have no choice but to cover my own medical expenses.

https://gf.me/u/y5gugt

#signalboost #help #help wanted #helping hand #gofundme

[prioressead]

Hey, I’m really struggling right now. Like really really struggling, as in I’m not surviving paycheck to paycheck. I am over $10,000 in debt (not including school loans) and my mom rekindled her relationship with my abusive stepfather, and will be leaving me pretty much homeless in about a month.

I work 40hrs p/week at my regular job, I dogsit when I can, I DoorDash 10+ hours on the weekends, and I am selling most of my belongings (seeing as I won’t have a place to live in a month, might as well make some money.)

If you could help in any way, I would more than appreciate it. And if not I more than understand.

Would really appreciate if y’all could share this around. I am so sorry to even post this, and to ask for this. I feel embarrassed. And I am absolutely beyond terrified.

#gofundme #go fund me #donations #please help #crisis #mental health crisis #mental health help #mentally ill #hospital bills #debt #crippling debt #hospital #degenerativediscdisease #ddd #degenerative disc disease #student loans #emergency #emergency funding #crowd sourcing #crowdsourcing #lgbt #lesbian #homelessness #homeless #silicon valley #bay area #south bay area #south bay #california #san jose

[mindmusicspirit]

Sick, tired and broke...

While it took the coronavirus to get people to genuinely realise this : our healthcare system is trash when it truly doesn’t have to be.

That technically feels like the end of my Ted talk, but I’ll go into some slightly repetitive data about it, because what I ultimately discovered is that this healthcare system is costing the most financially and humanely for Millenials.

Let’s start out with 2019 when 137 million Americans faced financial hardship due to medical costs. Scary part is, regardless of age, high healthcare bills are the number one reason people would consider taking money out of their retirement accounts or filing for bankruptcy, while 66.5% of all personal bankruptcies are tied to medical issues. ( CNBC).

According to the NYTimes, Americans borrowed $88 billion in 2018 in order to pay for their healthcare. If we’re borrowing $88 billion to pay for healthcare, imagine the profit that these healthcare companies are enjoying!

Why is healthcare so expensive? The best answer I could find is due to a “free” market and lack of regulation by our government as well as a lack of transparency when it comes to medical billing. According to Public Health Policy Professor Marty Makary of John Hopkins, the healthcare marketplace is “irrational”-- though I prefer the term uncontrolled-- where price gouging has become the norm. Heart surgery at one hospital may cost $44,000 while the same surgery will cost $500K at another facility, and the kicker here is, despite the disparity in price, there is no marked difference between the quality of care in the different facilities (CNBC).

As for lack of transparency for medical billing, I can personally attest to that ( though clearly I’m not a unique case). Last year I was hospitalized at Tulane University Medical for Diabetic Ketoacidosis, brought on by food poisoning, and I received 3 seperate bills for that one stay. One bill was about $350, the second bill was for $2200 , and the third bill was for $14.99 with no thorough explanation about what I was being billed for ( no general explanation provided either). The bills were just medical coding with no legend of what the coding represented, leaving me angry and confused. How does one hospital stay, at one facility come with 3 seperate bills? Sad thing is, I had health insurance, and seeing as health insurance comes with deductibles and out of pocket limits, I figured those hospital bills hit that, at the very least. Apparently it did not for reasons not even the health insurance reps could explain to me. How do I spend $2500 out of pocket, when my limit is $1500, and you’re telling me that that $2500 doesn't count toward my out of pocket? A clear lack of transparency in not just medical billing, but health insurance as well.

The general high cost of medical care is another reason we’re just out here remaining sick and in debt: The average hospital stay in the US costs about $5220 per day, whereas in Australia where the nation's wealth is comparable to the US, it’s about $765 per day. It is not even hospital stays that are the initial causes/starting causes of medical debt either: 65% of medical debt started out with either diagnostic testing or a doctor’s visit followed by Lab fees, ER visits, drug prescription costs and outpatient services (SingleCare.com). Why would something/someone whose job it is to cure or heal you be what brings you into debt? Even more so, why does something as primary and preliminary such as diagnostic testing or seeing the doctor be the main cause of medical debt? We’re in debt before we can even know what’s ailing us? Drug prescriptions are no different either. About a month and a half ago I lost insulin vials and needed to get replacement vials from the pharmacy: I’ve never actually lost insulin before in my twenty years as a diabetic, so you think that my pristine record would count for something. It didn't. Health insurance was not going to cover it, and the cost of one vial was going to be $900. Keep in mind, one vial will last me about two weeks. Maybe three if I make sure to not eat. $900 is more than my half of rent to put that cost into perspective relative to my monthly bills, and it was only going to last me half the month. If prescription costs are that drastic, I can only imagine the average cost of the diagnostic or doctors visit that affect the 65% that fall into debt because of it.

In addition to costing us financially, high medical care and medical costs affect our quality of life and ability to accumulate wealth, especially Millennials. According to a 2016 study published by Health Affairs, Millennials carry the most medical debt in the US as well as incur it more frequently: the article focused more on the fact that the debt starts at the age of 27 once the medical care/insurance for young adults under their parents insurance ends at age 26. The age group that ended up accumulating the most debt was also age 27 ( PBS.org) The Millenial age group also accounts for 35% of the overall population, so that could be another reason why we hold the most medical debt as well ( Single Care).

Quality of life is also affected in that Americans are foregoing medical treatment or medical visits due to cost. In fact, 21% of Americans had to do that in 2016 alone. That is 21% of people not getting the necessary healing treatment they need, or living in the dark of what’s ailing them.

32% have postponed medical care due to cost. When I hear “postpone”, I assume that the only reason they end up getting medical care is because their ailment got worse or to a point where they couldn’t avoid not getting the medical care that they needed.

40% of adults ages 18-64 have relied on at home remedies or over the counter drugs instead of going to the doctor due to medical cost ( Singlecare.org)

I have fallen into all 3 categories: In fact, once , in order to avoid a hospital visit, I treated my own onset of ketoacidosis. For those of you not sure what that entails, it basically includes taking my insulin through my veins as opposed to subcutaneously ( injecting my arm or stomach) while avoiding any liquids or food, including water for at least 24 hours. The reason you have to do that is because your body’s acid level is falling to a dangerous level so it won’t react to insulin being delivered into your fat stores or beneath the skin: It has to be delivered directly to your bloodstream to have an effect. This acidity level will also cause your blood sugar to rise to dangerous levels, and potentially even lead to a heart attack if not treated in a timely manner.The low acidity level is also why the body won’t tolerate any food or liquid, as it tries to purge every possible foreigner from the body in order to normalize its pH level. Imagine not being able to drink water without violently vomiting it up. So there I was at home, a young twenty year old, injecting insulin into my veins, every hour for at least twenty four hours, until my body was on the mend again. I had to be my own doctor in order to avoid a $2k-$3k plus bill that I knew I couldn’t afford. Was it risky? Yes. But, I was forced to be concerned not only for my life but for my financial well being simultaneously. Sad fact of the matter is, I’m confident that I’m not the only type 1 diabetic with a story like that, and I’m not the first to have to weigh my life versus my finances.

In order to pay for medical costs:

53% work out payment plans with their provider. That’s probably the best option, although it ends up being one more bill to add to the list at the end of the month. I’m still paying off that $2500 hospital bill I previously mentioned.

37% have had to borrow money from family or friends

34% have increased their credit card debt

70% say they cut back spending on food, clothing, or other basic household items.

41% say they took an extra job or worked more hours.

59% say they used up most or all of their savings.

35% say they have been unable to pay for basic necessities like food, heat, or housing. (Singlecare.org)

The statistics at the bottom are exceptionally high and staggering. 70% have to cut back on basic household items/comforts in order to pay medical bills: Is it really a succesful or efficient healthcare system if you have to choose between food or medicine?

In addition to our quality of life/quality of health being impacted, I mentioned our ability to accumulate wealth, which for Millenials have proven more difficult than prior generations: According to Caroline Ratcliffe, a senior fellow at the Urban Institute who studies asset building and poverty, wealth is stagnating for younger generations compared to their parents and grandparents. For people under 40 years old: their wealth has only inched up compared to their parents in the 1980’s, and many factors affect that: Credit cards ( see prior posted article on credit card debt), Student loans ( future article) and of course medical debt:

When one in six Americans have past due medical bills on their credit report, it affects their ability to secure a good interest rate on a home or auto loan. ( PBS.org) We’re constantly told how real estate is one of the best ways to accumulate wealth, yet these unnecessary and predatory forms of debt make it harder for us to do so. A lot of these past due bills average about $600(CNBC), but when most of us have credit card bills, monthly living expenses, student loans, and living paycheck to paycheck, how easy is it to pay $600, realistically?

The additional injury to injury ( because we’re long past insults to injury), is the fact that medical care is slated to become even more expensive. It’s expected to hit $6 trillion by year 2027, and it’s already 2020!

When individuals, the federal and state government, and private business seem to share an equal balance of overall medical expenditures ( be it through medicare, the cost of employee covered insurance etc etc), why then would medical costs go up?

It goes back to the beginning of the article, where we pointed out how unchecked the healthcare industry is. Despite the fancy words and round about explanations we may get from lobbyists and those in healthcare, in addition to being gaslit by them that rising costs are unavoidable, it most certainly is avoidable.

Don't forget, compared to other countries that have comparable wealth to us, everything is more expensive here in the US, and there doesn’t seem to be a disparity in the actual quality of care. For example, the total health spending per capita is 84.8% more expensive in the US than in Canada.

In America, they perform 322 C-sections for every 1000 live births, which average a cost of $16,000. In the UK, it’s 264 C-sections per 1000 live births with an average cost of $6k.

An MRI averages about $1115 in America, yet averages to about $215 in Australia. (Singlecare.com).

These countries are comparable in wealth to us, so is affordable and universal health care really that far fetched or radical of an idea in America? Especially when it’s driving such a staggering amount of people into debt? The answer is NO. Based on the medical cost and quality in other countries, not only is it possible, but easy to make it affordable and universal. There are so many different models that are currently working that we can choose from to emulate even.

Health insurance, healthcare and pharmaceutical companies need to be governed or regulated here in the US. Otherwise, the health care system is just another player in the systemic debt traps that seem to be set for the poorer masses, and it’s a problem that’s only projected to get worse, especially for Millenials. It’s grossly affecting our overall quality of life and ability to generate wealth. These statistics show that while the sick get sicker and entrapped by debt, the healthcare industry and those at the top will benefit the most financially from our plight. This current system is neither logical, nor sustainable for the masses, the greater good, or for the economy.

What ever happened to the Hippocratic oath to do no harm?

References:

137 Million Americans are struggling with medical debt. Here’s what to know if you need some relief.

https://www.cnbc.com/2019/11/10/americans-are-drowning-in-medical-debt-what-to-know-if-you-need-help.html

2020 Medical Debt Statistics

https://www.singlecare.com/blog/medical-debt-statistics/

Millennials rack up the most Medical Debt and most frequently.

https://www.pbs.org/newshour/health/millennials-rack-up-the-most-medical-debt-and-more-frequently

Americans borrowed $88 billion to pay for healthcare last year, survey finds

https://www.nytimes.com/2019/04/02/health/americans-health-care-debt-borrowing.html

Survey: 79

million Americans have problems with Medical Bills or debt.

https://www.commonwealthfund.org/publications/newsletter-article/survey-79-million-americans-have-problems-medical-bills-or-debt

#healthcare #stats #millenials #debt #lifestyle #finance

[bootyassnodt]

Nocturne - Our kind of love

An angsty, intimate, soft and vulnerable fic, featuring a very wounded Prosciutto, and fem!reader, from one of the first ideas I ever had about him, months ago. Potential trigger warning for blood and injuries. The music is Nocturne No.20 in C-sharp Minor, by Chopin

Your eyes were strained on the clock for god-knows how long. His voice was echoing in your head, as you were mentally replaying his reassuring way of saying goodbye for the millionth time. His usual, cold, cocksure promise of being home by 11 at latest, calling tonight’s hit a low-risk small job, before setting out in the night made your stomach knot to the verge of nausea. It was ten minutes past one and you already lost the sensation in your fingertips from continuously tapping on the kitchen table for the past two hours. 

You were cursing and scolding him mentally in the first hour, like an old wife, it was even comical, and if he could have heard it, you two would have had a good laugh over it. But as time passed, you felt smaller and smaller, your skin colder, your palms clammier, your throat more and more dry as the possibility of him never coming home crept into the back of your mind. It was always an option, he often reminded you despite your constant protest against the topic, this was part of dating a mafia man. A hitman, to be correct, and these times the reality bit into your heart a little harder than usual. Your lover, your partner, your sweet companion of years, the man whose arms around you were the closest thing to heaven on Earth, was killing people for a living. He was nothing more than a very professional murderer in an expensive suit, and he wouldn’t be the first to fall victim to his lifestyle. 

Half past one. He had never been out for this long without letting you know the reason behind it. Never broke a promise, never missed a date, never made you feel secondary in his life. Prosciutto was a good man, or at least good to you, and while you felt like you could kill him yourself for making you feel like this if he turns up alive, in your heart you were already bargaining with whatever god was up there, to bring him home to you safely, in one piece. 

Your mind barely registered the faint scratching coming from the front door, yet you shot up on your feet, only to fall back onto the chair, blacking out a little around the corners of your vision. The scratching became clearer, it was the sound of a key failing to find its way to the keyhole. Like those nights when you hastily tried to open the front door after making out in the taxi on the way home from clubbing all night, only to sloppily make drunken love on the couch and to fall asleep tangled into each other. This memory brought warmth into your heart and power to your limbs, so you hurried to the door with determination. It was him out there, no doubt about it, and a part of you truly hoped that he just went out for some drinks with his team after the job, and got hammered beyond the point of coming home on time. It was very unlikely, still, the most comforting option possible.

As you opened the door, Prosciutto basically fell on you with a tired grunt, his body like dead weight on your shoulders, but instead of the expected smell of alcohol, the heavy, metallic stench of blood filled your senses. As you tried to wrap your arm around his waist, you noticed the wide smear of dried blood on the white door, where he was probably leaning in the past minutes. Your hands were already getting sticky, and your face squirmed in horror when your reflection stared back at you in the mirror, with the off-red stains on your pajama shirt growing more prominent. You tried to lower yourself a bit so that you could match the gaze of your man, who was breathing heavily with his head hanging low.

- Prosciutto, is this your blood? - your voice was weaker than you hoped for.

- Some of it - he huffed, trying to straighten his stance. His right shoulder was unnaturally stiff, and as he tried to support his elbow with his left hand, he groaned loudly in pain, and leaned back onto you. - Okay, most of it.

- Jesus fuckin Christ, and what’s going on with your….

- Tesoro - he said firmly, looking into your eyes. - Bathroom. Now.

You carefully led him through your apartment, noting how his breath hitched at every step, indicating at least one broken rib. The pictures on the wall with that perfect, overjoyed couple looking back at you, seemed to be slightly judging this mess in the dim light. You tried to bite back your tears as you kicked the bathroom door open, and sat him down on the wide edge of your bathtub, carefully removing his shoes, socks and pants. At least his legs didn’t sustain any injuries, which was good news, but as you moved up to take off his jacket, Prosciutto instantly grabbed your wrist with his left hand, gritting his teeth in pain.

- Bring in the scissors from the kitchen - he growled, his voice being even deeper and raspier than usual. - You will need to cut the jacket off of me.

- Cut it off? But… - you looked all over the dark blue, well-tailored worsted wool piece, now fully soaked in blood, remembering the day he first came home in it with a beaming smile, looking like a movie star, ecstatic about his latest paycheck well spent. Tears welled up in your eyes. - This is your favourite....

- Babe - his expression softened, and he gently caressed your arm. - My right shoulder is dislocated, and I cannot put it back while wearing a jacket, and if I try to remove it with my arm sticking out in that angle, I’m afraid I will faint from the pain, or shit myself, or both. And we don’t want that, do we?

- It must be really bad if you are trying to be funny - you let out a dry laugh while wiping off your tears with the back of your hand. - I’ll be right back.

You placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, and tucked his disheveled fringe back behind his ear. The mixture of sweat and blood you could taste on your lips from his skin occupied your mind as you absent-mindedly raked through the drawer under the kitchen counter, looking for the biggest, stainless steel scissors you kept at home. It was more like a weapon and less like a tool, and you cannot remember if you or Prosciutto ever used it around the house before.

You knew all too well, how much Prosciutto loved to fix everything on his own, whether it was a dripping faucet, or a wound, or a ripped shirt, even after years of sharing his life with someone like you. Seeing him slumped at the exact same spot you left him, looking up to you with tired eyes, and a telltale expression of him fighting to hide the pain from you, was truly heartbreaking. You have never seen your man like this before, and you really thought you have seen everything from him. 

In the hopes of getting it sewn back one day, you started cutting the jacket along the seams, paying extra attention not to ruin the fabric itself, but the blood seeping out of it under your touch made this task more difficult than you hoped for. Freeing him from the heavy wool garment, you had to hold back your tears once more when you saw his graphite grey shirt also completely soaked in blood.

- The shirt too?

He nodded.

Putting a dislocated joint back in place was a way more arduous task than you have seen in the movies before, and you just did what Prosciutto said, as he seemed way too experienced in the matter. At that point, you didn’t even want to know, so you kept the questions to yourself. You put on some Chopin, as he asked, held his right hand firmly to his body from behind as he asked, closed your eyes as he asked, and kept yourself from vomiting when you heard the wet pop of the joint finding its place and felt your lover’s whole body twitch from the agonizing sensation against you. 

After taking a deep breath and acknowledging the good riddance of the tension, you ran the bath, and took the emergency kit out of the cabinet, sorting out the antiseptic, the gauze, the bandage and some adhesive plaster, before turning back to him.

- You of all people - you started while cleaning the blood off of his skin with a wet cloth. - How the hell did you manage to get this roughed up?

- Work, tesoro. You know how it is.

- Yes, I know, and this is not how it is! - you looked him straight in his ever glistening, bright blue eyes. - Prosciutto, what happened? 

- I got outnumbered - he shot his glance to the floor while exhaling sharply. - The intel was wrong, and I couldn’t use my stand. There were civilians, I had to go in.

- And I guess you were expected to show up, too - he nodded, while you uncovered more and more wounds, the water down there in the bathtub turning red. - One more question, why didn’t you go to the hospital? Or whatever is that back-alley butchery is called where you guys go after getting injured… 

- That was… not an option - he really didn’t like to involve you too much with his job, but you looked at him with an interrogative gaze, and he let out a defeated sigh knowing that he cannot escape. - That is where the job was, actually. Riz got intel that the lead doctor went rogue, giving over medical and stand info to an American gang.

- So you were sent there to clean up.

- Exactly. It seemed easy, the plan was letting Grateful Dead in while I have a cigarette outside, then burning some papers, then picking up a nice amount of cash on my way home to you.

- But there were civilians. Patients? Let’s see... children of crooks in debt, placed there as a bait to distract you?

- That’s my clever girl, give me a kiss - he pulled your chin towards him, and you couldn’t help but smile against his lips. Prosciutto was there, he was alive, and you finally let yourself relax into his presence.

- So you went in - you continued while wringing the crimson cloth into the bathtub. - Wait, where is your pistol?

- At the HQ, I had to leave it there to be repaired. Don’t ask.

- You were at the HQ and they let you go looking like this? Who was there on duty? Formaggio? Melone? I’m going to flay them alive!

- Calm down, gattina - he snickered, but held his side as the pain from the broken rib jolted through his body. - If anyone was there, they were sleeping already, I just left my stuff on the table with a note. Okay, now let me get up, I need a cigarette.

- The fuck you need a cigarette. With your blood pressure, and this kind of blood loss - you placed your hands on your hips. - Also, they were in your jacket, probably drenched too - He huffed, and shook his head, with a smile spreading on his face.

- All right, let me take a look in the mirror then - he stood up, taking a thorough look at his many injuries, some bullet grazes, some bruises, some cuts, most of them still oozing blood. - Bring in some whisky and two glasses if you may. We are celebrating.

- Celebrating? - You chuckled in disbelief, locking your eyes with his through the mirror.

- Tonight we are taking our relationship to the next level - he said, examining a particularly deep cut on the backside of his ribs. He turned to face you. - Because tonight, my love, I am going to teach you how to stitch up a wound.

It took you a second of blinking at him with hollow eyes. That was just so out of character for him, the man with a longer skin routine than yours, and the man almost ridiculously peculiar about the state of every inch of his flawless body. You decided to chalk it up for the blood loss.

- You really want me to do this? - you grazed your fingertips over his arm. - It surely will leave a scar if you let a rookie like me near your skin.

- Look how deep and nasty it is. Also, I cannot reach it properly. And you know, I actually wouldn’t mind getting a scar from you, it would be a nice change to have one worthy of remembering. Will you be a good girl and do this one for me? - He stepped closer to you, his left hand caressing down the small of your back as he pressed his forehead against yours.

- How could I say no to you - you whispered, and held his face in your hands.

You knew he was bleeding and in a considerable amount of pain, but that didn’t seem to bother any of you, at least not for that one, placid moment. You studied his face as if you still couldn’t believe he finally came home to you after those excruciating hours of waiting, and Prosciutto, well, he was looking into your eyes as if he knew exactly what you were thinking about.

- One more thing, tesoro - he leaned close to your ear to break the silence at last, in a hushed tone. - I know I made you angry. You worried about me, and I bet you were eating yourself alive waiting for me. It’s alright if you are mad at me, but please, do not think I don’t know what is at risk. I know I fucked up tonight, but I will always come home to you, as long as I am able to.

The tears you choked back in the past hours now let themselves flow without a barrier, and you buried your face into the crook of his clavicle, shaking. There was no further need for words, you just stood there, melting into each other’s embrace, trying to protect that little, perfect, safe haven you had amidst the kind of world your love was thrown into. 

Finally, you broke the hug with some gentle pats on his hip, and for a split second you could have sworn that you saw Prosciutto wiping away some tears too. God, he was beautiful. Beautiful, but bleeding, a matter that needed immediate assistance from your end.

- All right carino, let me patch you up - you said in a cheerful tone, turning to the emergeny kit. - I put on that white satin bedding you love so much, and if you bleed through that, I’ll have to kill you in cold blood.

He let out a hearty laugh, as far his ribs let him.

- As you wish, my love.

#JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #Vento Aureo #la squadra esecuzioni #prosciutto #angst #established relationship #tw: blood #tw: injury #JJBA fanfiction #jjba writing

[prorevenge]

Psycho Ex gets my egoless revenge with a side of heavy-duty karma.

The following story occurred over the course of 13-8 years ago, and I apologize preemptively for the length, because it is a bit involved.

I was in a relationship for 9 years with a girl I met in college. We broke up on the cusp of my 29th birthday. While breakups and divorce are never trauma-free, this one was as close to that as I believe is humanly possible to get, there were no fights and minimal drama, and I moved to a new city to get a fresh start and be nearer my dad/stepmom/half sisters, as I'm close to them and it was nice to have family during this. Get an apartment, start over, everything's good. Then I meet "her."

Things with her seemed good at first. She was the polar opposite of my ex. She's quiet yet nice, had her life relatively together (my first wife was very unfocused and horrible with money), physically a complete contrast, wild in the bedroom--I thought I had hit the jackpot.

Anyhoo, I fall for her hard. We have a whirlwind romance, move in shortly, and we have this glamorous life where we make good money (she was a corporate accountant, I had a decent small business, we're pulling in 150K+ combined), renting a luxury apartment, one car paid and the other brand new, no kids. Things are great, except that we drink too much together and some other underlying issues I'm blind to at the time. We get soused one night and drive to Vegas, and get married on the strip after 6 months of dating and 9 of knowing each other. The ink is barely dry on my divorce papers from version 1.0, but no matter, I'm in love. My family likes her overall. Her family loves me. We adopt cats. We talk about trying to have a kid.

We upgrade our life and take on more debt, just as the housing bubble bursts and the economy tanks, she loses a couple jobs due to her inability to show up on Mondays, and I start losing clients as the ones I have start cutting their advertising budget (my field). Things start to get pinched, and she first starts complaining, then gets petulant, because now we can't spend the way we used to, the quarterly mini-vacations dry up, plus we're cooking at home instead of going out to eat 4x a week. We basically stop having sex a little more than a year into the relationship (didn't realize it then, because I was dumb and love-blind, but she cheated on me during this period).seRealizing what we're up against with our normal bills plus our credit cards, I go out and get a job bartending at a posh resort, the only other real skill I have at the time that's marketable. I get two other part time gigs to help make ends meet. She still complains, and throws me an ultimatum before I even start getting paychecks, laying the blame at my feet. I say fine, screw this then. Had we stuck it out even a few more months, things would have started to turn a financial corner. Instead, she goes full two-faced, mean-spirited bitch on me. The night we first fight, she "attempts suicide" by scratching her wrist with a leatherman, then calls 911, gets admitted to the hospital (I arrive home to cops telling me this), and has the security guard toss me when I show up to see if she's okay because she doesn't want to talk to me. I use the quotes because there was a small collection of firearms nearby I bought for her target shooting hobby which were untouched, so it was obviously just a ploy for attention.

We basically fight for the next week, I give her everything she wants, which includes leaving the house, signing over my new truck to her, and only taking stuff I brought into the relationship, basically enough to fill a small storage space. She's financially pinched so I sell my office furniture for cash and don't even touch the bank account, just take my biz money and one CC I got separate from her. I go to the Bay Area for a few months, financially struggle, don't get the job I was sure was on lock. During this time, I have this revelation one evening--I drink too much and that it's caused a load of problems in my life, so I quit, and I haven't touched a drop since.

Broke and realizing nothing I try is working, I come back to town, live with my dad for a month, find a roommate, then a shit retail job (my business has dropped from 7-8K per month at its height to now around 500/mo), I bike everywhere bc I can't afford a car, and my credit is toast partially due to her love of spending on plastic, so I'm facing bankruptcy. I'm 31, and this is really humbling, but whatever, I'm alive, have dealt with hardship before, this won't last forever. She has kept her house, declared personal BK on her debts, keeps her car, and has been dating a series of men starting a couple weeks after we split. While I never asked the details, apparently she's also reached out to a few of my friends and badmouthed me a bit. This would be mildly annoying, but add in two factors--she's dragging her feet on the divorce due to not having money to file, keeps up contact on the pretense of us needing to talk, but plays emotionally manipulative head games during the whole sequence ("I've realized I still love you, that's why you can make me cry so easily," and other bullshit Hallmark movie lines like this). Also, we live in a suburb that's smaller and tightly knit, so multiple places I go to like my church, the bookstore I frequent, and the coffee shop right by my place, she talks endless shit to people. Says I was a cheater and physically/emotionally abusive (complete crap, but whatever), I'm stalking her, I supposedly stole tens of thousands of dollars from her, the whole nine. Some people actually believe her, I even get threatened by a wannabe biker one night that's literally twice my age with violence, itself a funny story but not the point.

Finally, after some more bullshit and back and forth, she leaves town (more falsehoods around this, including her borrowing a bit of money she didn't end up paying back, and sticking me with a massive overage on our cell bill right before we split the account). My dumb, trusting heart hurts but I'm mostly relieved to see the last of her, realizing she's only nice to me when she wants something. She goes to NY to shack up with another guy, gets pregnant 15 minutes later. Finally sends me divorce paperwork. I sign it and send back quickly, all notarized docs, everything organized and flagged. She attempts to be "friends" and I want no part of this BS. I'm businesslike, she gets upset. She screws up filing, blames me. I say "whatever," straighten out the court issues. One week after the divorce is finalized, the kid is born. No word from her after that for two years, thank god. I get a new career, start advancing in it, and start dating a new woman that I'm still with 10 years later. Weirdly enough, they knew each other, and she didn't like her, partially because one of my ex's infidelity partners was her ex-husband, during a time they were exploring patching things up for the kids' sake (though there were multiple reasons for her distrust, apparently she always gave my wife an icky intuitive feeling).

So flash forward two years. I get a call from my current squeeze. She's just talked to a friend who was also a very brief roomie of "her" after our split. She's breaking up with the baby daddy. There's a custody fight. He's saying he doesn't know if it's his. Will I help her? Well, it's the right thing to do, so even though I don't trust or particularly like her, I say yes. I get the call, and a sob story. Most of it doesn't add up--he took the kid, but thinks it's actually mine, to prove paternity I'd need to come to NY and take a paternity test at one of their facilities, also he hit her, put a GPS tracker on her car, brother is a Russian mobster who threatened her, all very far-fetched. Needless to say, even without this fanciful tale, I generally assume if this woman is talking, it's a lie, so I'm suspicious. Her lawyer calls me, and seems like a clueless shmuck. I get a letter from him, very unprofessional and not even on a letterhead (every other legal doc I've seen has "from the law offices of blah blah" on it, but this is literally just off a laser printer), and says, verbatim "I, M___ K___, am the ex-husband of J___ K___, and was married to her from 6/07-8/09. I have no legal interest in the child." Super shady.

Not wanting to end up in a situation where I've allowed myself to be legally fucked over, I make my own lawyer consultation appointment. Before I can even go, the baby daddy finds me on Facebook and sends me a message. Between calls with him, his lawyer, and the impartial lawyer NY state appoints for the child's welfare, I get a very different story. He knows it's his, he had a paternity test done on the sly at birth because she had been promiscuous before they got together, and she was pregnant so quickly he was concerned. They broke up because she was drinking too much, he busted her with a bottle of vodka as she was driving with the kid in the car. She stood up in court, claimed I was actually the father, and she had no idea where to find me (he found me in 10 seconds online, I'm a tech guy with massive social media presence, a tech blog, multiple writing credits on publications, my frigging name as a domain, plus I've had the same cell phone number for 14 years). Also the other BS was just that, he's an IT guy for a university and his brother works for a carpet cleaning chain, plus just like in our relationship, he never hit or stalked her, etc.

So she, not knowing what I know, starts sending me text messages. I say "Filled out and on its way back to your lawyer," and toss it in the trash. I'm so tempted to send her some poetic message about how the truth is coming back to haunt her, but I resist, because I'm not doing this for her, but rather for the sake of their son and his father, so let's keep my ego out of it. I provide legal statements to all in the court. Tell them I know it's not possibly mine because I hadn't been with her since April 15 of '08, kid's birthday is in Sept of '09 (I remember the date because, due to taxes, I got fucked twice that day). Explain when she was in NY, which is the likely dates of conception, prove I was thousands of miles away on the west coast. Tell them to look through her social media, where she meticulously tagged herself and took tons of pictures of even their mundane locations. Provide a blood sample to a local lab. Tell them salacious details about her drinking and occasional drug use, including her abused prescriptions and a previous hospitalization where she was held for psych eval due to taking way too many pills.

Court comes, and she gets blindsided. Stack of depositions and a collection of statements from me were what sealed the deal, apparently, and the incredibly stupid game she was running is fully exposed. Gets no custody, no support, supervised visitation once a week. I run into her ex-roomie, upset, but instead of giving her attitude, I just calmly tell her the scam J__ was running, then let her "pull out of me" the truth about our split. She's flabbergasted, but also a horrible gossip, so it gets around town like wildfire. People I barely know, including the aforementioned biker, all come up to me and apologize for misjudging me. I'm years past the stage of having any morbid curiosity to check her social media, but every few months she pops up as a "suggested friend," and I notice bemusedly the number of mutual friends plummets from triple digits to eventually 3. Baby's father sends me a massive Amex gift card for Christmas, as much as I make in a week at the time. I call and tell him I don't know if I can accept it, I don't want him or anyone to think I did this for a reward. He virtually begs, saying "you helped save my family. This is nothing in comparison. Thank you." We break down crying on the phone, and eventually form an odd, distant friendship based on mutual respect for each other. I even had dinner with him a couple times when I had to go to NY for biz over the years, and I always buy, because the poor guy has done enough and gone through enough having to coparent with this train wreck.

To this day, she's apparently struggling to stay sober (alcohol and other substances), and has minimal involvement in her child's life due to her inability to show up when expected. Baby daddy tells me she's been in legal trouble, financial issues up the ass, and a string of boyfriends that never last more than a few months. I'm doing well, got married again three years ago, raised step-children, am reasonably financially successful, and rather like my life. Granted, a large part of this story is just karma in action, but I feel like I did the right thing, wasn't petty, and what I did do hit her where it hurts.

TL;DR: Ex-wife fucks my life, destroys me financially, tries to trash my reputation, then tries to use me as a scheme in her custody battle years later. I talk to the court directly, work with the baby daddy's lawyers, and get her exposed for the psycho, lying wench she is. She loses custody, struggles, and the good people live mostly happily ever after.

(source) (story by heymomo7)

#prorevenge #by heymomo7 #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #revenge story #last10

[phantomviola]

An update on my life (and it’s a long one)

Hey everyone. I wanted to do an update on the various things that have transpired in my life from late July until now. 

My aunt was diagnosed with acute leukemia. She had been anemic for a while now but slowly and surely, things took a toll on her physically. Tests were done and due to her past history (two bouts of breast cancer, one tumor that disappeared in her lung) she was a prime candidate for leukemia. It’s been an endless cycle of hospital stays, chemotherapy, trips to MD Anderson for consultations on stem cell treatment, etc. It’s been very tough to hear and see my aunt go through everything, despite her will to live being so strong it’s unreal and in a way inspiring. But to watch my uncle go through all of this has been so hard. I feel for him so much. I’m quite close to him (as I’ve always been close to all of my uncles - they are kind of like the silly brothers I never had) and he’s been struggling to keep it all together. He’s in jeopardy of possibly losing his job since he’s run out of all his sick days, vacation days, and so on. He is now on leave without pay and all the medical bills right now are just...FUCKING EXPENSIVE. Don’t really want to say the total bill right now but needless to say he will be in debt until he dies and after. I know he’s trying so hard to be strong and positive, but I worry so much about him. I hurt for him. I will admit my bond to my aunt is not super strong but because she’s married to my uncle, I know how much he loves her and for me that’s all I need to know. I don’t know what’s going to happen with her. This past weekend (23-24th) she was admitted in hospital again for pneumonia. She almost died. She’s now stabilized but they have to run tests on her heart since her left ventricle is not working well. I hope test results are not negative but man, I don’t know how much more her body can take. I just want her to make it through the holidays for everyone’s sake.

At the same time my aunt fell ill, my mother had a bad accident. In the midst of running around to help out my uncle during my aunt’s illness, she fell in our front driveway and fractured her left wrist which happens to be her dominant hand. That was one of the worst days of my life. I hope you all never have to experience seeing your loved one bleeding, in tons of pain. I was running around in a panic trying to get what I needed to get to the hospital. I waited around in small rooms all by myself wondering what the hell is going to happen to her during surgery. I kept blaming myself since I thought I distracted her when it happened. I hated not being in control of anything. It was just...the worst feeling ever. Since then, she’s had a second surgery to remove a large metal plate that was put in her wrist. She’s not in nearly as much pain as before, but a long and continuous road to recovery is on the horizon. I’ve already witnessed all of her physical therapy sessions after the first surgery, of which there have been a handful of sessions that have been so fucking awful to witness. My mother doesn’t cry for a lot of things, but to see her sob and scream due to the pain is something else. I’m hoping the next round of PT won’t be as awful but we’ll see. Our physical therapists have been awesome, though. 

With all of these things happening, I had decided to cut my workload down for the Fall 2019-Spring 2020 school year which has been hard on my bank account. There have been times when I’ve struggled to keep up on grading and get the energy and enthusiasm to go to classes, but in a way it’s been a good distraction. I don’t regret cutting my workload because there are more important things besides a bigger paycheck. I don’t want my students to suffer either if I’m not up to snuff. As it is, I wonder how my evaluations will look this term but anyway...the semester is almost over and I can say I survived it despite everything. I will do the same again in the spring and that’s fine. 

So if you’ve reached this point in the post, hooray! The main thing I wanted to stress on this Thanksgiving Day is please please please don’t take anything for granted. Love your family. Spend time with them. You really don’t know what will happen down the line. Be grateful for what you have. Remember what’s most important. Be there for each other in good times and bad. I know this year more than ever, I’m very grateful for my life and my family. Sounds bloody sappy, but it’s so true. So hug your loved ones. Tell them how much you care about them. Put differences aside for one day and enjoy the time you have together.

And lastly, I want to stress how much I love you all on here. Even if we don’t talk as much now or have never spoken to each other, I love you guys. Tumblr has been a refuge for me these past few months more than ever to escape and laugh or look at all the great artwork and gifs and memes, etc. So keep posting and sharing all your favorite things.

That’s my update/Thanksgiving address/TED talk everyone.

#times when mari's life really really sucks

[bountyofbeads]

The ‘follow-up appointment’

https://wapo.st/2z4uWXR

The ‘follow-up appointment’

'For many people in medical debt, it leads to a courtroom' (THIS SHOULDN'T BE HAPPENING IN AMERICA)

By Eli Saslow | Published August 17 at 5:41 PM ET | Washington Post | Posted August 18, 2019 9:18 AM ET |

POPLAR BLUFF, Mo. — The people being sued arrived at the courthouse carrying their hospital bills, and they followed signs upstairs to a small courtroom labeled “Debt and Collections.” A 68-year-old wheeled her portable oxygen tank toward the first row. A nurse’s aide came in wearing scrubs after working a night shift. A teenager with an injured leg stood near the back wall and leaned against crutches.

By 9 a.m., more than two-dozen people were crowded into the room for what has become the busiest legal docket in rural Butler County.

“Lots of medical cases again today,” the judge said, and then he called court into session for another weekly fight between a hospital and its patients, which neither side appears to be winning.

So far this year, Poplar Bluff Regional Medical Center has filed more than 1,100 lawsuits for unpaid bills in a rural corner of Southeast Missouri, where emergency medical care has become a standoff between hospitals and patients who are both going broke. Unpaid medical bills are the leading cause of personal debt and bankruptcy in the United States according to credit reports, and what’s happening in rural areas such as Butler County is a main reason why. Patients who visit rural emergency rooms in record numbers are defaulting on their bills at higher rates than ever before. Meanwhile, many of the nation’s 2,000 rural hospitals have begun to buckle under bad debt, with more than 100 closing in the past decade and hundreds more on the brink of insolvency as they fight to squeeze whatever money they’re owed from patients who don’t have it.

The result each week in Poplar Bluff, a town of 17,000, has become so routine that some people here derisively refer to it as the “follow-up appointment” — 19 lawsuits for unpaid hospital bills scheduled on this particular Wednesday, 34 more the following week, 22 the week after that. Case after case, a hospital that helps sustain its rural community is now also collecting payments that are bankrupting hundreds of its residents.

“Think of me as the referee,” the judge explained, as he called the first case. “It’s my job to be fair. I’m not going to be chugging for either side.”

On one side of the courtroom was a young lawyer representing the hospital, and he carried 19 case files that totaled more than $55,000 in money owed to Poplar Bluff Regional. Three nearby hospitals in Southeast Missouri had already closed for financial reasons in the past few years, leaving Poplar Bluff Regional as the last full-service hospital to care for five rural counties, treating more than 50,000 patients each year. It never turned away patients who needed emergency care, regardless of their ability to pay, and some people without insurance were offered free or discounted treatment. In the past few years, the hospitals’ total cost of uncompensated care had risen from about $60 million to $84 million. Its ownership company Community Health Systems, a struggling conglomerate of more than 100 rural and suburban hospitals, had begun selling off facilities as its stock price tanked from $50 per share in 2015 to less than $3 as the lawyer approached the judge to discuss the first case.

“We’re seeking fair payment for services we’ve provided. Nothing else,” he said.

Behind him in the courtroom were some of Poplar Bluff Regional’s patients — a population that was on average sicker, older, poorer and underinsured compared with the rest of the United States. More than 35 percent of people in Butler County have unpaid medical debt on their credit report, about double the national rate. Most of the 19 people on the morning docket had been treated in the emergency room and then failed to pay their bill for more than 60 days before receiving a summons to court. Many of them had insurance but still owed their co-pay or deductibles, which have tripled on average in the past decade across the United States. One patient owed more than $12,000 after being treated for a heart attack. Another was being sued for $286. If the hospital won a judgment, it had the right to garnish money from a patient’s paycheck or bank account or it could put a lien against a house.

“I’m hoping to negotiate a payment plan, but I can only afford $20 a month,” one patient told the court.

“I’m late for work, so if there’s someplace I can sign, I guess I’ll just sign,” said another patient, who owed more than $3,000 after spending six hours in the emergency room for chest pain.

“How am I supposed to pay $4,000 to see a doctor if I’m barely making $2,000 a month?” asked another.

One by one the patients came up to plead their cases until the judge called Gail Dudley, 31, who was sitting with her mother in the third row. She had gone to the emergency room at Poplar Bluff Regional in 2017 after passing out because of complications from Type 1 diabetes. The hospital had given her medication to stabilize her blood sugar, kept her overnight for observation, and then sent her home with a bill for $8,342, of which she was still responsible for about $3,000 after insurance. She’d tried to appease the hospital’s billing department by sending in an occasional check for $50, but with accumulating interest and penalty fees, the balance on her account had remained essentially the same for two years.

“I’m grateful for what they did for me, and I know I owe it, but I don’t have that kind of money,” she said.

The judge gestured in the direction of the hospital’s attorney and then looked at Dudley. “Would you like a chance to talk to this gentleman for a moment and see if you two can work something out?”

“Okay,” she said. “We might as well try.”

Matthew McCormick, 27, led Dudley into the hallway to begin the same negotiation he’d been having with dozens of hospital patients each week. On Thursdays he was listed as a hospital attorney for the court docket in Doniphan, population 1,997. Mondays it was Kirksville, Tuesdays were Bloomfield, and Wednesdays often brought him here, to a 95-year-old courthouse in Butler County, where he’d represented Poplar Bluff Regional on more than 450 billing cases so far in 2019.

“We’d like to find a way to work with you on this,” he told Dudley as they sat down together in the courtroom lobby. He reached out to shake her hand. He smiled and offered his business card. For the past year, he’d been working on behalf of the hospital as the newest attorney for a law firm called Faber and Brand, which promised to “use the judicial system to recover money owed.” McCormick’s cases hardly ever went to trial. More than 90 percent of the people being sued weren’t represented by an attorney and at least half failed to show up in court, resulting in default judgments in the hospital’s favor. The rest of the patients McCormick met came into court with little to offer in their own defense except for apologies and stories of poverty, poor health, unemployment and bad luck.

“I’m real sorry about this,” Dudley said. “If I’d been thinking straight, I would never have let them take me to the emergency room. I know I can’t afford that. I wish I could pay you all of it right now.”

“Let’s make this as easy as we can,” he told her. “Is there something you can pay? A little each month?”

“I don’t have anything extra,” she said, thinking about the paycheck she earned for a full-time job as a clerk at Goodwill, which totaled $736 every two weeks. After paying for rent and utilities on a subsidized three-bedroom apartment, groceries, and child care for her 6-year-old son and 3-year-old daughter, she sometimes ran out of money by the end of the month.

“How about $15 out of every paycheck?” she offered, even though she doubted she could afford it. When McCormick didn’t immediately respond, she revised her offer. “Thirty? How’s that?”

“Let’s say thirty,” McCormick said.

He had more patients waiting to negotiate, so he thanked Dudley and led her back into the courtroom to sign her judgment. It said she had agreed to a total claim of $3,021, plus $115 in court costs and 9 percent annual interest. She would send the hospital $60 each month until the balance was paid in full, and if she failed to make a payment the hospital could pursue garnishment of her wages.

“I’m glad you worked something out,” the judge said as he signed off on the agreement.

The court clerk handed Dudley a copy of the judgment, and once she was back outside the courtroom she took out her phone to run the math. If everything went right, and she somehow managed to save and pay $60 each month, she’d be sending checks to Poplar Bluff Regional for the next 5½ years.

In order to make 66 monthly payments, she had to somehow come up with the first, but her bank account was almost empty and payday was still a week away. Dudley left the courthouse, got into the car with her mother, then changed into a polo shirt for work. They drove away from the cobblestone streets of downtown and headed toward Goodwill.

“Could’ve been worse,” said her mother, Norma Garcia, 48. “Sixty isn’t so terrible.”

“It is if you don’t have it,” Dudley said. “Who do you know that’s sitting on an extra sixty each month?”

They drove past a dollar store, a payday lender and a fast-food restaurant advertising “full-time career opportunities” starting at $7.80 an hour.

“Maybe you can borrow it?” Garcia suggested.

“I don’t do credit cards or lenders,” Dudley said. “That’d just be another debt I couldn’t pay.”

“I meant from somebody.”

“Who?” Dudley asked. “Everyone we know is paying the hospital already.”

Their family had lived for three generations in Poplar Bluff’s predominantly black neighborhood just north of downtown, where according to credit records more than half of adults had debt in collections for unpaid auto loans, credit cards or medical bills. Dudley’s aunt had been sued twice by Poplar Bluff Regional and was forfeiting 15 percent of her paycheck to a court-ordered hospital garnishment. Her cousin was being sued for $1,200. Her sister owed $280.

But none of them had cycled through the emergency room as often as Dudley during the past several years. Her two pregnancies had complicated her diabetes, and she’d tried to save money by skimping on insulin. Instead of paying $50 every few months for a preventive medication, she had collapsed at work and been rushed to the emergency room, where she was sent home with thousands of dollars in now-unpaid bills. Poplar Bluff Regional was an ambitious rural hospital — a $173 million facility with a cancer center, a cardiac center, dozens of specialists and state-of-the-art surgical suites — and Dudley believed she was alive because of it. But during the past five years, the average amount that rural patients owed for hospital visits nationwide had doubled, and Dudley was earning $11 an hour at Goodwill as new hospital bills kept arriving in her mailbox.

She owed a $100 co-pay from another hospital visit in November 2018 that had already been sent to collections.

She owed $485 from another trip to the ER in April.

She owed $159 for lab tests, $85 for a doctor’s visit and now $60 for her first court-mandated payment, which was due at the end of the month.

“I’m trying to make peace with the fact that this debt could sit on me forever,” she said.

“Maybe I can help,” Garcia offered, even though she was on disability and avoiding her own billing notices from the hospital, seeking $365 in unpaid deductibles.

“It’s my bill to pay,” Dudley said. She’d been saving a little money for back-to-school supplies, and she said it was enough for her first month’s payment. “I’ll handle it,” she said. “There’s no other choice.”

There was one person in town who did believe patients had another choice, and over the past several years Daniel Moore had begun encouraging his clients to make it.

“Don’t pay one cent,” the lawyer had advised dozens of clients. “I don’t care how much the hospital says you owe. Fight them over it.”

Moore had been working for almost five decades as a self-described “old hillbilly lawyer” out of a converted house downtown. He specialized in criminal defense, with more than 400 cases pending all over the state, and he liked to align himself with the underdog. He’d been unable to afford a doctor himself while growing up on a farm with no running water, so when clients began coming to his office with bills from Poplar Bluff Regional that they could neither pay nor understand, he had agreed to take a look.

What Moore found in some of those itemized receipts didn’t make sense to him either: $75 for a surgical mask; $11.10 for each cleaning wipe; $23.62 for two standard ibuprofen pills; $592 for a strep throat culture; $838 for a pregnancy test. He searched through court records and discovered that the hospital was collecting hundreds of monthly garnishments from hourly employees at places like Quickstop, Earl’s Diner, Wendy’s, Instant Pawn and Alan’s Muffler.

He decided to represent several hospital patients free, and went to court against the hospital for a jury trial for the first time late in 2015. Moore’s client was a Poplar Bluff police officer with decent insurance, an Army veteran who went to the emergency room one afternoon because of chronic stomach problems. He’d been given a battery of tests in the ER, then treated with three IV medications before being discharged after three hours with a bill for $6,373. His insurance had paid some, but the hospital was suing him for co-pays totaling about $1,650, plus interest.

“The facts show that he came to the hospital and received treatment that alleviated his symptoms,” the hospital’s lawyer at the time told the jury. “He received three separate bills. He just didn’t pay the balance.”

“These charges are outrageous,” Moore told the jury. “He doesn’t owe the hospital anything.”

A billing manager from the hospital took the stand and said Poplar Bluff’s prices were in line with other hospitals in rural Missouri. She mentioned the high cost of providing care at rural hospitals, which must pay higher salaries in order to recruit doctors, nurses and specialists while also suffering more from federal cuts to Medicaid and Medicare compared with urban hospitals.

Moore began to question her about each charge on his client’s itemized receipt. Why, he asked, did it cost $800 to spend approximately 40 seconds with a doctor? Why was the hospital charging $211 for an oxygen sensor that was on sale for $16 at Walmart? Then Moore asked about three identical charges on the bill labeled “IV Push,” which each cost $365.

“An IV push, if I understand it, that’s the act of sticking the needle in that little port and then squeezing it,” Moore said. “Is that right?”

“Yes,” the billing manager said.

“So that takes maybe five seconds, right?”

“Yes.”

“So you, the hospital, think that act alone, not counting the drugs inside the IV, which cost thousands of dollars more — that act alone is worth $365.38?”

“Yes,” she said again.

“It makes me so mad,” Moore told the jury, in his closing argument. “If you’re content to let the hospital just crush people, then go on and give them their measly $1,650. But what you can do today is say, ‘Hey, we’re tired of this.’ How many times are we going to let working people take the shaft?”

“In reality, this is a simple bill,” the hospital’s lawyer countered. “All we’re asking for is his co-pay and his deductible. The hospital provided treatment. He still owes.”

The jury deliberated for less than an hour and then found in favor of Moore’s client, wiping away his hospital debts. But whatever sense of victory Moore felt was mitigated over the next months as Poplar Bluff Regional’s lawsuits continued to spread across the civil courts of Southeast Missouri, and he agreed to take on more free cases. “The hospital circuit,” Moore called it, which meant Mondays in Caruthersville, Tuesdays in West Plains and Wednesdays in Poplar Bluff.

On Thursdays it was Doniphan, a town of fewer than 2,000 people, where Poplar Bluff Regional had filed more than 300 lawsuits during the past several years. Moore drove past horse farms and timber plants, parking near an abandoned hospital. Ripley County Memorial had closed six months earlier, and there were locks on the doors and a sign taped above the ambulance bay.

“For Nearest Emergency Services, go 29 miles to Poplar Bluff Regional,” it said, and now several of those Poplar Bluff patients had been summoned right back to downtown Doniphan, to a red brick courthouse at the center of the town square.

They crowded next to each other on a wooden bench in the lobby, waving their hospital bills as fans against the late July heat while they waited for the courtroom to open and then entered one by one: a husband and wife who went for cancer treatments at Poplar Bluff Regional each week but couldn’t afford the co-pays. A community college student who owed more than $7,000 for treatment of a chronic heart condition. And then the judge, who had presided over hundreds of hospital cases during his career and also recused himself from one case a few years earlier, when the patient being sued was his wife.

“How are we all doing today?” he asked, as he looked down at a docket with 14 more cases between a hospital ownership company that couldn’t afford to keep losing money and patients who couldn’t afford to pay. Both sides were drowning in debt, fighting to stay above water, and pulling each other back down.

“It’s another full docket,” the judge said. “We might as well get started.”

Eli Saslow is a reporter at The

Washington Post. He won the 2014 Pulitzer Prize for Explanatory Reporting for his year-long series about food stamps in America. He was also a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize in Feature Writing in 2013, 2016 and 2017

#health care reform #public health #reproductive health #mental health #health #healthcare #us news #us politics #u.s. news #u.s. government #president donald trump #trump administration #trumpism #trump scandals #trumpsucks #trump news #president trump #2020 presidential election #2020 candidates #2020 election

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Please help out a broke college kid!😭

It pains me to do this. Anyone who knows me well can tell you that it kills my pride and I to ask for any kind of help. However, things have gotten to the point where I really don't know what else I can do.

Shortly before Christmas I was hospitalized for mental health reasons. (I'd really prefer not to go into detail about that) since being released I am doing much better, but my current financial situation is threatening to dismantle my improvement and healing. As it stands I currently owe $1,728.25 worth of medical fees that were due months ago. I get multiple calls daily from debt collectors. 

Unfortunately, I am a poor college student. I make about $500-$800 a month at my part time job and that all goes to basic living expenses like rent and groceries.  I'm barely surviving paycheck to paycheck and can't afford these bills on my own.

I wish my parents could help, but they're just as poor as I am. My mother overdrafted their account to lend me $50 so that I didn't starve this month. 

I just really need help to pay these bills. Having this debt looming over me is stressing me out so much I'm constantly afraid I'm going to end up hospitalized again and in even more debt. 

Seriously, anything you can do to help is greatly appreciated.

https://www.gofundme.com/f/medical-bills-for-broke-college-kid&rcid=r01-156472653347-a3ad9214f1094c1c&pc=ot_co_campmgmt_m

#please share #gofundme #mental health #mental illness #medical bills