Phlegmbocious!

There's been a lot of talk about phlegm and mucous in our household this past week.  My oldest child even sent me a picture via iPhone of a yellow-brown blob on a background of white Kleenex with the question, "Is that bad I coughed that up?"  If I had known the content of that text message, my finger wouldn't have been able to hit DELETE fast enough.  She's been trying to show me the contents of her tissues for several days.  But I couldn't do it as I'm lately feeling a decidedly strong repugnance toward both ear wax (which my son is constantly trying to shove into my line of sight, waving the yellow-coated Q-tips in my face as I trip over myself backing up) and chunks of phlegm and mucous which originate in any body which is not mine.  (Don't those two words just GO together like an old married couple?  "Ladies and gentlemen, on the eve of their Golden anniversary, help me welcome Mr. and Mrs. Mucous-Phlegm!" )  Oh, my response to the content of the picture was that as long as it wasn't from her lungs and she didn't continue to experience such tissue content throughout the day, it was most likely morning activity dislodging stagnant sinus gunk.  She's fine and ready for her surgery tomorrow, though she will have an enormous cold sore keeping her company during the exploratory procedure.  The thing should apply for its own zip code!

There are three out of five of us recovering, not all of us successfully, from a funky upper respiratory virus that started in Ashley's head before she so graciously shared it with her mom and dad.  When it arrived at my sinus cavities, the virus apparently liked what it saw and decided to move on down into my lungs.  Hoping to have a repeat of the Mucinex-D commercials where the mucous family gets swept up, out and away by the very powerful medicine, I've been popping the stuff in a timely fashion since Friday.  My lungs, evidently, have not SEEN those particular advertisements.  Or -- here's a shocker -- there is not total truth in advertising. 

Anyhoo, I say all of this not because it's unique for a family to spread the viral joy this time of year.  Nope.  In fact, for the first four years of my Tennessee stint, bacterial bronchitis could be counted upon sometime after Thanksgiving but before Christmas.  The increase in amount of severity of my hacking, coupled with the bitter tasting,textural, gross, yellow and green (yellow IS the color of infection, it seems!) chunks accompanying the productive morning coughing tell me that waiting it out ain't gonna work.  Thus, I must once again exercise our new insurance policy.  And THAT is the issue at hand here.

My family has been fortunate to have excellent insurance coverage for quite some time.  City jobs and employment with large corporations allow for more generous policies with co-pays and 80% to 90% surgical coverage with low deductibles and no HSA or HRA or cafeteria programs.  If one of us was afflicted with say, a possible appendicitis attack like the one my son experienced Wednesday last, I'd not spend as much time worried over the ER bill at 2:30AM as I spent feeling concern for my boy.  The outbreak of warts on both of my thumbs --  outside of plantar warts as a teen and young adult, nary a wart has invaded by skin -- would have been addressed over the summer.  But instead, I've joined the ranks of the insured who are glad to pay for monthly coverage and receive discounted services, but must put forth a significantly larger portion of their monthly pie toward doctor visits and the myriad other medical needs which tend to pop up in unexpected ways.

Now, I wholeheartedly advocate treating colds and flu and the like at home in lieu of kneejerk calls for appointments with busy doctors who often send folks home with orders to rest, drink fluids and administer OTC drugs as needed because what they have is a miserable but common virus which must run its course.  What I don't support is putting off necessary treatment because the stress of paying the bill outweighs the physical discomfort that is signalling bronchitis or asthma or more serious problems.  What I REALLY don't like is the knowledge that as expensive as our small-company insurance is to our bottom line, there exists a disproportionate number of businesses who can't offer comprehensive policies of any kind.  There are individuals and families who don't get seen and thus miss diagnosing diabetes or endometriosis or some such.  And on the other side, not all but a decent percentage of people with government-funded coverage, ring up the ambulance and drag out the specialists at the drop of a cough.  Not to mention folks who jack up insurance costs by receiving treatment and meds for an underlying condition but refuse to make the life changes to improve the condition and thus reduce those insurance costs.  Because WHO bears the trickle-down charges created to absorb the abuse?  People like my neighbor who works full-time outside the home before picking up her three young boys for a comparable workload outside of her paid employment.  People diagnosed with cancer who can't afford the cutting edge treatments and thus must accept older, less effective protocols which, while working, don't offer the hope of additional months and years for the cancer-ridden host.  Mothers who are forced to hope their wheezing young one will improve with acetaminophen and heat compresses when it's clear that waiting it out isn't working.  Elderly men and women unable to afford a basic standard of care for their age-related ailments.  In this country, these examples are very real . . . and it just isn't right!

If you wouldn't mind, I'd love to hear from you.  I know that my readers have their own stories bearing witness to this national crisis of ours.  Let your voice be heard. 

I'm waiting.