A surprising and unwelcome part of my birthday celebration was my chipped molar. It's been more than a week and there's no pain, so I'm going to wait until January to get it looked at. Why work fruitlessly toward my deductible this late in the year, only to have the meter reset on January 1?
I realize I'm lucky to not be in pain, to have the chip in a barely visible spot, and to have dental insurance at all.
My friend from the Keys called to tell me how happy he was with the progress of his wrongful dismissal claim. But he was distracted by vodka -- partly because a cocktail is part of his after-work routine, mostly because he was in pain. He, too, has a broken tooth. But he can't afford to get it fixed because he doesn't have dental insurance. So he's going to self medicate and eventually get something done, but not the root canal/crown he predicts would set him back $1,400 he doesn't have. (I don't know what they cost, since I have the insurance, which I'm suddenly more grateful for.)
These are the thoughts and observations of me — a woman of a certain age. (Oh, my, God, I'm 65!) I'm single. I'm successful enough (independent, self supporting). I live just outside Chicago, the best city in the world. I'm an aunt and a friend. I feel that voices like mine are rather underrepresented online or in print. So here I am. If my musings resonate with you, please visit my blog again sometime.
I had insurance but it still set me back about that much. Partly because my insurance stunk. I hate teeth.
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