You can suck it United Healthcare

Today, I am taking the opportunity to put United Healthcare on blast for being FUCKING assholes. I have been waiting patiently since August of 2012 for my birth control pills to be fully covered under the Affordable Healthcare Act’s Affordable Access to Preventive Medicine provision. This provision requires health insurance companies to fully cover the cost of things, like pap smears, mammograms, and FDA-approved prescription contraception. I went in September to get my fully covered birth control pills, only to discover that they weren’t. I did some research, and according to literature from the National Women’s Law Center and a few other online resources, the provision may not take into effect until the new coverage year, which for me is January. Okay, I could wait until January. Things take time. 

I went to get my birth control pill prescription filled on Sunday. I was cautiously optimistic about what would happen. I was on the new coverage year. I had been a good, healthy girl all year. Not one major medical blunder. AND BAM. My birth control pills are still absolutely NOT free. WTF United Healthcare? 

Well, I certainly did not take this in stride, and I called them. BECAUSE THIS IS BULLSHIT. Apparently, my birth control pills are designer, and they only offer full coverage for generic ones. However, I can write a letter to the United Healthcare appeals department in order to state my case and request that my prescription be covered anyway. I would just like to point out that it would be easier to actually just cover the prescription. But I am clearly dealing with very smart, very cheap assholes who think that I won’t stand up for myself and write the best god damn letter they have ever seen. Well they are wrong. I am writing that letter and posting it EVERYWHERE, and I encourage everyone to do the same. If your birth control pills are not covered, call your health insurance company. If necessary, write them an appeal letter and post it EVERYWHERE. They will NOT win this round. We are worth more than the few dollars it will cost them to cover ALL birth control pills.

So suck it United Healthcare. I am coming for you. You have been warned. 

-          Lauren, health insurance company squasher  

I did NOT pee myself on stage!

This weekend, I performed for a friend’s theater show. Each week, he pulls together a set of performers, improvisers, and speakers to share their stories on a certain topic. This week was all about strange habits. There were several talented people who spoke on their need to memorize license plate numbers or to name their body parts. One particular sketch group did a piece on the behaviors that men do, which totally scare the crap out of women, like returning a sledge hammer late at night. I spoke on the first modern piece of fetish clothing, the Mackintosh Raincoat. 

For weeks before the performance, I was plagued with doubt. And right before I headed to the theater, I was a GIANT wreck. Pale, clammy, on the verge of vomiting, questioning my choices in life. I kept thinking about what was riding on this piece. It was my first appearance for Pink Glitter, and I wanted to make you guys proud. I also have not been on stage since summer camp in 2000, and I tend to be kind of shy (sometimes). All of that combined to make for a potential disaster, despite EVERYONE’S attempts to keep me calm. (Thank you for trying!)

But I made it through quite successfully, which you can tell since I am writing this post. I was completely composed and bold while on stage; the audience got super into the performance. And I had a ton of fun answering people’s questions after the show. I am so glad that I did it, despite all of the freak outs and mini breakdowns. 

We are stronger than we believe, and we should push ourselves outside of our comfort zones in order to see what we are made of! 

What have you done that scared you but turned out great?

-          Lauren, Stage conqueror and fear crusher  

Sex and Intimacy during Cancer

  

First, let me say that I have never been diagnosed with cancer, so I can absolutely not say that I know how it feels. I can imagine that it feels a bit like being whacked in the face with a baseball bat several times or being punched in the gut by a sumo wrestler. I also cannot imagine what it is like to receive a diagnosis and then have to tackle relating to myself and other people sexually again.

It seems like we forget about the sexuality piece once someone has been diagnosed. Our society really focuses on helping people navigate the medical arena. We want them to get a diagnosis, to go through treatment, and to feel better. We don’t really talk about the person’s sexuality. We forget that cancer doesn’t take away someone’s humanity. It doesn’t remove their need to connect with another person (or people). They will want to date and have sex and be intimate with others.

I had previously thought about sex and intimacy during the chemotherapy process after participating in a workshop with Jill Palmer, LPC. She spoke about the need to reconnect to your body and redefine who you are after a diagnosis. Ms. Palmer mentioned that the redefining process could have a MAJOR impact on how you relate to yourself and others sexually. She also stated that it doesn’t lessen or remove the need. It just might make it a bit more complicated. AND it would be less complicated if people felt supported in having conversations about sex and dating and intimacy during cancer.

I came across two articles this week that also delve into this topic. You can check them out here and here.

I am glad to see this conversation popping up more and more. It helps normalize people’s experience, and it expands our concept of sex and intimacy. 

- Lauren, gingerly stepping into the topic of sex and cancer    

 

How I came to celebrate my breasts

Until recently, I have had an estranged relationship with my breasts. I don’t have names for them. I don’t talk to them. I don’t really refer to them very often. I only thought about them when I bought a dress or a top. I did go through a period in college when I refused to wear a bra. Mostly because my breasts are small, and I didn’t need one. When you are in your late teens and early twenties, you want to assert your independence, and I did. By not wearing a bra. It was fun while it lasted. My mom killed my freewheeling spree, when she pointed that my future self would be pissed if I didn’t start supporting my breasts. She said that they would sag, among other horror stories that were brought up for a few months. I knew that she was right, and eventually I agreed to wear bras again. We bought some inexpensive, quasi-supportive bras. And I wore them for seven years. Sure, they stretched and faded. But I really did not care. I was doing the bare minimum for my breasts.

Then I walked into an independent bra and underwear boutique in Austin, Petitcoat Fair. And something clicked inside of me. My breasts deserve better! They should have a bra that correctly fits them and cradles them. They deserve to have a bra that helps them stand tall and proud. I deserve better than the bare minimum. This was the first time that I have really felt that way about my breasts. It was a revelation, and it was awesome.

Who knew that carefully selected, beautifully crafted, and well-fitting bras could make such a difference? But they do! Everyone deserves to have this experience. It can change your relationship with your breasts for the better, and who doesn’t want that? 

What has helped you relate to your breasts?

-          Lauren, recent convert to the breast celebration club