Today is sign-up day for next year's insurance plan at MyGuy's place of employment.
i had just put the footrest up on the recliner & prepared to start my project last night when he politely asked me if we could talk more about it.
"Is Max going to be on our insurance plan this year?"
"i dunno. What do you think?"
"Well, do you have the Medicaid plan booklet that I could look at?"
i laughed - something between derision and maniacal. Maybe a scoff.
That plan booklet he's talking about - it is actually a booklet. It's under a hundred pages. And it's very specific, cut & dried: this is covered; these are the limits and exclusions. This is not covered.
"Wouldn't that be nice. i have the waiver binder, that i suggested you look at last June. Would you like me to go get it, or shall i describe where you can find it?"
Yes, even when i describe it. "Ok." So i lowered the just-raised footrest and climbed the stairs to get it. Not that i can complain - this is why we have stairs, to get the extra exercise, plus he's always getting up for me from having just sat down, whether i ask him to or not.
Anyway, i get the binder & bring it back & he looks it over & we eventually decide there's really no way to know which coverage would be best.
|so you go to the hotlinked pages to find out what you actually need to know. . . .|
We decided to go with the Medicaid alone.
MyGuy said, "How can people write SO much and say so little?"