The Denture Contract

I will re-post my review of Forever With You on Sunday, March 6, 2011.

I’m a Navy veteran and as such one would think the VA would provide dental care. They only do so if you have a disability that is related to your military service. My disability is based on my bi-polar disorder and post traumatic stress that was caused by childhood experiences and having been raped at the age of nineteen before I entered the Navy. That does not qualify me for dental care under the VA system.

My road has not been easy. I have been a sofa-surfing homeless person, I have pulled my own teeth and have longed for at least partial dentures since my back teeth have not met for over a decade, thus making chewing somewhat difficult. When I moved in with daughter, my new VA therapist told me that I could get dental care through the Lake County, Illinois Public Health system. My prayers were answered.

I went to the Public Health office and was told that dental service would not be free, but it would be discounted and I could pay as much as I could afford. I could not be turned away for non-payment. I’ve been making payments of about $25 each month, although some months I could not afford to make payments. That was okay—they continued to see me and to pull the teeth that needed to be pulled. I finally reached the point where they had pulled all the teeth they deemed necessary and I made an appointment to have impressions taken for my new teeth. I got there this afternoon and the receptionist called me over.

“Did you know your discount expired?” he asked.

“No. I didn’t know it could expire. What do I need to do to renew it?”

“Just bring in proof of your disability income.”

“Okay.”

“I see you haven’t signed the contract for your dentures yet,” he said.

“Contract? What contract?”

“No one explained the contract?”

“No…”

“You have to sign a contract stating you’ll pay for your dentures before we make them.”

“Oh. How much do they cost—with the discount for my disability?”

He looked at my chart.

“You need both upper and lower, so… With the discount, six hundred each, that's twelve hundred dollars. Can you make a payment of two hundred fifty today?”

My shrink would be so proud of me. I did not whack him with my cane. I did not scratch his eyes out. I did not scream “What part of *@$%(_+&# Social Security DO YOU NOT GET?” I did not ask them why they didn’t explain that to me BEFORE I let them put me through the hell of several extractions of teeth I could maybe have hung onto awhile longer (several in front) not to mention going several hundred dollars in debt to them (with the discount, which will be paid off at $25 per month). I even managed not to burst into sobs until I got to my car.

I am so angry. I am now a toothless hag. I whistle when I talk. I can’t bite into anything and while I had difficulty chewing before, it’s even worse. I have eleven teeth left. One of them is black and is right in front on top. I have no lower front teeth. Won’t that be lovely when I’m doing readings and public appearances to sell my books? I’ll have to open my mouth to speak to people. Does anyone know how to whittle teeth? Maybe I should take up ceramics.

Mona Lisa’s smile is no mystery to me. She went to the Lake County, Illinois Public Health Department for dental care and no one explained the denture contract to her until after they pulled her teeth.

More to Fear Than Homelessness

It seems everyone is blogging about the tragedy in Arizona this week. I frankly don’t know what to say. For once I am speechless. My deepest condolences go out to the families of the dead and prayers and healing energy go to those who were wounded.

I saw the Teabaggers bringing back the fear-mongering of the McCarthy era when I tried to attend a political debate between my Democrat Congresswoman and her Teabagger opponent. He orchestrated a recital of the Pledge of Allegiance with his supporters screaming out the phrase “under God” which was not originally part of the Pledge. It was added during the McCarthy era.

I have been selfishly afraid of what this Congress would do. You see, my bi-polar disorder was not diagnosed until the Clinton administration. It cost me my husband and children and during the first Bush administration, I was a jobless, sofa-surfing, homeless veteran. The week Bush gave a speech saying there was no recession, there were seven hundred people lined up for one hundred jobs at the new Sheraton Hotel opening in Chicago in a -30 wind chill right by the Lake. I went to pick up copies of my resume to join that line and stopped off to say hi to a friend who worked in the same building. She told me about a client of hers who needed an assistant. Her client, Dr. Gail C. Christopher became the best boss I ever had, and my jobless, homeless days were over. Gail turned me into a social and political activist.

But the Republicans weren’t done with me. I became disabled because of my bi-polar disorder and other problems and ended up getting my health care from the VA and Medicare—neither of which provide dental care. (None of my disabilities are related to my military service.) So, during the second Bush administration, I found myself pulling my own teeth. And sure enough, last week, I started signing petitions begging Congress not to repeal the Health Care bill. I’m also afraid they'll privatize Social Security and Medicare, and cut non-serivce-connected veterans out of the VA system as well, leaving me with no income and no health care at all. My kids are now old enough to take me in, but I wouldn't want to be around my grandkids without my meds.

I had no idea I would need to move into a bunker in order to be safe from the Teabaggers. I never thought it would be safer to make a phone call on a public phone at two a.m. in gang territory than to attend a meet and greet with a Congresswoman, who simply wants to represent her constituents instead of Big Business.

If you haven’t watched Keith Olbermann’s special comment on this weekend’s events, here’s the link. He’s much more eloquent than I am. http://www.mediaite.com/tv/keith-olbermanns-special-comment-on-violent-rhetoric-and-the-giffords-shooting/