Over a year has passed now that our family has had a lack in full time health care coverage. No biggie right? For some yes, for us, we are getting by. I am blessed each and every day that my children are happy “little fuckers” as my son would say and that we are not cursed by tragedy. Knocking on wood.
Last year in February was the last time the twins saw a doctor for their well child check ups. They would have seen a doc last summer had I not called the insurance company to find out whether we needed pre-authorization for Chad’s vasectomy only to find that our policy termed (cancelled by his employer) just two weeks prior.
Spank you. Spank you very much.
So I freaked out. Like any undiagnosed OCD control freak would do, I stewed. I Google’d. I stewed some more. Then I went to the Arizona DES site to look to see if by some far and I do mean FAR FUCKING fetched idea that we would qualify for discounted healthcare coverage. Because as you may or may not know we were railroaded right up the arse, with no lube, on a private care option to which they told us “No Spank you” because I have fake tata’s and The Chad had high blood pressure ONE day that he went to the doctor. BUT, that is a whole rant that I have posted about.
Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, to see if I qualify like all the other free loaders of the nation (right Left Wing whackadoodles!?). Sad, I do not. So what is a family to do with children who need immunizations since we so choose not to have our children infected with nasty illnesses which can cause irreparable damage or death. Stepping down from the box. What are we to do? Other than go a full year with no recent immunizations and all of the sudden remember that in order for the kids to attend preschool, they need UPDATED immunization records.
I conferred with my friend Google again and he sent me to a community site driven for people like me. And people like you. And all people.
I was so happy to see that a day (several actually) existed for a FREE clinic to take my children to so they may receive updated immunizations and vaccinations. WAHOO. Because really I am not going to pay some pompous ass physician who will charge me $80 per child just to walk in the fucking door and then charge me for the vaccinations on top of that which they charge $68 each. GET THE HELL OUT OF TOWN. Free is for me.
So I took my perky blond self and toted the twins to my old stomping ground in Chandler where I drove around my old neighborhood, reminisced, and thought…man…I am so glad we moved out of what is now the ghetto. Anyway, I arrived at the clinic and went in, to what appeared to be a ghost town and was greeted by a lovely woman who was ever so kind. She informed me of the pertinent information and that the vaccinations were available at two that afternoon.
A bit peeved that I drove ALL THE WAY down to the ghetto, but thankful nonetheless for community services. I was then greeted by another woman who then reiterated what the other woman just told me…again…ever so kind.
Until I saw that bitch later that afternoon.
I show up at two that afternoon with two cranky, over shopped, sleep lacking twins into a clinic that was now standing room only. Woman #2 who was kind earlier…now can suck a donkey ear. She looked at me, might as well have been smacking gum in her pie hole as we exchange words:
Her: “Can I help you?” (Tone clearly reeks of what the fuck do you want free loader)
Me: “I was here this morning about the vaccinations?” (are you really THAT busy that you cannot recall me from just FOUR hours ago)
Her: Huff “Fill these out. Bring them to ME. Fill in these bands, put them on the kids, make sure it has their date of birth….have a seat.”
Me: grabs load of papers and looks aimlessly for a pen as I try to recall whether I have stuffed any in my bag. I look over at  a table that has a couple for another health thingy and ask if I can borrow to which I receive this reply.
Her: “HERE….here is a pen.”
Me: “Thank you.”
I survey the what looks to be a small community room that they have converted into a make shift clinic for an ample area to rest my arse and my dynamically grouchy duo. I look around to see only a single chair open and think, um no…cannot corral nor wrangle gnomes with a single chair in the middle of cattle. So I opt for the cozy square on the linoleum floor where I squat Indian style with a gnome on each knee. Then SHE starts in again.
Her: “There is an EMPTY CHAIR up there. You can sit in it.”
Me: looking at her like she is a complete idjut…oh wait…she is…”Apparently the chair is taken and the floor will suffice for now. Thank you.”
Her: “Well…don’t trip anyone or let them trip on you.”
AS FUCKING IF!
Seriously? Okay lady, yes my goal here as the ONLY BLOND in a red shirt in a room full of people will make every effort to trip people as I sit off in a CORNER! The nerve. Really? “don’t trip anyone?” You know me…master tripper. Shit I never tripped on anything but my own feet, let alone trip anyone else. Bitch.
I stew, filling out paperwork, entertaining gnomes and then return the clipboard, paperwork, and pen to HER. She snags the pen as if I were to steal it…which I should have to prove a fucking point, thank her kindly for using it and then she never makes eye contact. Only speaks to me as if I were a third rate human being, to sit and wait until my name is called shortly.
So I sat. FOR. TWO. HOURS.
Until  finally the sharp looking men in casual attire, shorts, t-shirts, and winning smiles called
me into the locked room. Sounds frisky right? Nah, just your local firemen doing their community service, serving the public, like me, to insure adequate and up to date vaccinations. I could really get raunchy and say they tag teamed me…but they did in a fashion with needles into my children’s little arms. I even started to cry. I hate seeing them in pain.
But I left thinking I should have captured the moment in the waiting room on my phone. A Hodge-podge of people, some clearly needy, others in my predicament of tight budgets and no health insurance, and others who I wondered what they were doing with their Coach handbags, kids wearing $110 Nike Dunks, texting from the apparently NEWEST of new smart-phones. Granted I could be considered the same…you know with my Goodwill bought cords, a t-shirt that says VIVA Elvis on it that The Chad bought for me while he was in Memphis, my favorite Jambu shoes, and my Palm Pre Plus. All of which cost me $30 plus whatever the feds charge me on this years coming taxes.
But still. I am always curious about people’s stories of life, how we all end up in the same room with the same needs at the same time. Especially since we are all there for our children. Are our paths the same? Was I viewed as a free-loader? What is really sad, is that we look at people who are in rough times and reach out for these services during these rough times because that is what they were created for, and we call them free loaders. Well what the hell else other than the federal deficit do my taxes go for?
I am ever so grateful today for the Chandler CARE Center, the staff (even if they were less than desirable in their customer service skills), the nursing staff from Chandler Regional Hospitals, the firefighters, and the volunteers. Without your dedication, my children would not be vaccinated nor would the eight children before and the many after mine. Thank you.
Crazy as the notion may sound, you can add motherhood to your resume. Two words that may not consider to go together, motherhood, resume; yet mothers have some wonderful skills to be marketed. No, I am not going to pitch you and say how you can really add the title. However, I think mothers often taken for granted their abilities to truly manage some truly exceptional professional positions for free while being a stay at home parent. 
