Lately I have felt like I have been drowning in a sea of paperwork. There’s the selling the house paperwork and the renting the apartment paperwork. There’s the Matt starting school paperwork (and of course the financial aid paperwork that goes along with that). The DEA and NPI paperwork that allows me to practice as a CPNP in NC has left us practically broke, but that is offset by the scholarships that have resulted from the aforementioned financial aid paperwork (yeah Matt!).
But hands down, the worst of all has been the health insurance paperwork.
One of the not-so-lovely aspects of only working part-time while Matt is in seminary is that in mere weeks, we will no longer have the option of being covered under a large company’s insurance plan. This is something that I have very much taken for granted until this point, as there was relatively little thought that went into picking from the options offered by Matt’s employer. Better yet, I never even felt like we were paying for anything, since the cost was simply docked from his paychecks. Well, finding our own health insurance has been a huge wakeup call. Fortunately, the Southern Baptist Convention has a health insurance program in which seminary students are eligible for great rates. Otherwise, we’d be up a creek.
Decent price aside, I never would have imagined how challenging it would be to actually comprehend the plans enough to settle on one and sign on the dotted line. As we belabored this decision, I actually did turn to Matt and asked, “What do stupid people do??” Now, that might seem a bit curt, but my question remains. We are pretty well educated individuals- not to mention the fact that I am a health care provider. Yet, I was left feeling pretty moronic trying to decipher which health insurance plan would be best. Oh, and don’t get me started on the dental HMO we almost signed up for. Come to find out, the best possible dentist we would have been eligible to see was located in a SEARS! I don’t mean to be a snob, but I just find it hard to imagine getting my mouth drilled into while looking out into an expanse of Hannah Montana t-shirts and Craftsman tools. No thank you.
Fortunately, Target had just the sort of lifesaver I needed as I continued to drown. A cute new black file folder now holds all of the paperwork that could ever be shoved in my face. Out of sight, out of mind… right?