Have you seen that episode of ‘It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia’ where Dennis and Dee go on welfare? I was reminded of that scene today when I was sitting at the free clinic. Yes, you heard right, I finally caved in and put my pride and phobia about public health centers aside and decided that over two years without health insurance wasn’t going to stop me from getting a physical. So, I spent the majority of the early afternoon filling out forms, and waiting around in a room full of mothers, babies, the disabled, and the elderly for the social worker to see me. That’s phase one: an insurance eligibility evaluation via social worker. The website said that during the visit, it would be a good time to bring up any concerns one might have about domestic violence and unemployment. I am very happy to say that although my adorable boyfriend is at times sassy, that’s the extent of my concern about that. And the unemployment bit, well, I didn’t see the point in bringing up my increasing depression over that with the social work intern who, as nice as she was, wasn’t trying to counsel me so much as ask me the generic string of questions one must endure before phase two. Phase two is getting an appointment with an actual doctor (isn’t that a novel idea?) at the clinic. Which, after I was forced to fill out some government insurance assistance applications that will take three months to process, I was allowed to schedule. My appointment is over a month away. I hope I have a job by then so I don’t have to go see the free clinic doctor, who I am mildly terrified of. Would it be wrong to take my own Lysol with me?
P.S. The line of the day, from the irate man who hobbled in on one crutch: “Tell St. Luke’s to get me back in alcohol rehab so I can get my pills!”