Health Insurance

In the fall of 2009, I was denied health insurance from Blue Cross and Blue Shield. They told me I was in the obese category due to my height, weight and BMI, and therefore, they would not grant me coverage.

I was substitute teaching, which doesn’t provide benefits. I wear contacts/glasses, go to the dentist, doctor, etc. I needed health insurance. I was willing to pay a large amount per month to get it, and I was prepared to pay around $200 or $250 dollars per month. I filled out the online application, put in my height as 5’4”, my weight at 190 (was at the time) and listed everything medically that had ever been or was still wrong with me. Seemed pretty standard to me. I disclosed that I had my tonsils and adenoids out when I was 12, wisdom teeth out at 16, two benign lumps removed from my chest at 21 and listed any issues with vision, dental work, mental health and asthma. All of my medical “issues” seem pretty normal to me. No red flags here!

A couple weeks later, I received a letter in the mail. I sat down at the desk upstairs to read what I thought was going to be a letter welcoming me into the program and detailing the payments.

What I GOT was a rejection letter. The letter explained that due to my height and weight, they estimated by Body Mass Index (BMI) to be 31, which, to them meant obese. I probably read the letter five times I was so shocked. I didn’t even know they could deny health insurance to people. What if someone had cancer? Was pregnant? Needed medicine? Jesus, according to them, I was just a heffer, and, there are a lot worse things than that. What about all those other people?
I’m not sure who I called first, Mac or my parents or my sister. I don’t remember if I yelled or screamed or cried or threw something. I probably did all of those things though. Are you effing kidding me Blue Cross Blue Shield? You think I’m OBESE?! You think I’m too dangerous to insure? For the LOVE OF GOD. I have never, not even once, not even today considered myself obese. I reserve the word obese for someone who is like 600 pounds and has problems moving. Hello, I still move. A lot. I may be overweight, but obese?! Bitch, please.

How could someone deny me? I wanted to give them MONEY. I am not a risk! Again, I was/am overweight. Not fat. (Don’t like that word.) Not obese. I guess in my anger, I could have called them and complained. But I knew if I called them, I’d be crying on the phone to some person who didn’t really make the decision, all the while asking for their supervisor. I thought if I called, I may get personal with someone, asking what their BMI was, and if it was over 24, well HOT DAMN they’re lucky BCBS let them work there! And if I had gotten someone with a thick accent, I probably would have been a total biatch. Nothing worse than trying to get answers about a complicated issue (benefits, customer service, student loans, computers) from someone you can’t understand.

I didn’t apply for any other types of health insurance. I was too upset and so hurt. I did not ever want to see a rejection letter like that again. I’m actually still surprised it happened, to be honest. If I didn’t have health insurance now, I don’t know what I would do. Even though I truly believe in my heart that BCBS was wrong, I wouldn’t even want to read another letter that called me obese.

During that year, Mac and I were engaged. We consistently half-joked about going to the courthouse and getting married, just so I could share his benefits. We didn’t go to the courthouse, and fortunately, I didn’t have any huge medical issues. I am very lucky. I don’t know how I would have reacted if something had come up.

I don’t really have a point to that story, just that I am still shocked it happened. I’ve told a few other people, and their reactionary facial expressions justify my emotions. It is so comforting to have people agree with you, especially about a topic that hurts your feelings and/or angers you.

Soooooooooooo, now I joined Jenny Craig. Again. On their website, they have a BMI calculator. According to them, my BMI is 36.9. I am in the “very overweight” category. Alright, that’s fair. Yes, I am very overweight. My goal with them is to lose 50 pounds. Crazy thing, is that when I put in my goal weight (167), it still tells me I’m overweight. I mean, I guess I understand it. The thing is though, I know what I look like at different pounds. That’s why I think in terms of numbers. And at 167, I don’t think I’ll look that bad. I know that my face won’t get smaller until I hit 190, maybe a little less. (Mac thinks I’m crazy for thinking that. He told me my face looked thinner and I answered him with, “No, it won’t get thinner until I hit 190.”) I know that right now, I wear a size 16. About every 20 pounds, the size changes for me. I.e. at 200, I can squeeze into a 14. And of course you’re different sizes in different stores and different brands. Blah blah blah.

The almost-last thing I’m going to write about is how I wonder when I’ll feel good again. Like, not so much jiggle, less belly, smaller everything. Literally, feel better. I keep saying I felt good at my wedding, because I did. I hope that whenever I start to “feel good,” I keep up with proper eating habits, because feeling good may happen before my weight goal. And yes, clearly, I cannot lose 50 pounds by July 29th. If I do, someone call a doctor. But hopefully I’ll keep up with this for a little bit after my birthday as well. I want to feel so good that I won’t want to ruin it by eating out for dinner 4 times a week. I want to feel so good that I continue to weigh myself each day and maintain whatever weight I make it down to. I want to get back to believing the saying, “Nothing tastes as good as being thin feels.”

And to conclude, I’m sure we all know where I think Blue Cross Blue Shield should go. My mom calls this attitude “Jersey attitude.” My dad calls it getting your “Irish up.” Mac calls me the “Meganator” when I become a full blown maniac. Ashley applauds this type of behavior, because she spends half her life throwing fits and putting people in their places. ;) And while I’m no longer sad, it would be wise for a rep from BCBS to never come in contact with me. I will become an Irish-Jersey-Meganator. And it is not pretty.


p.s. In spite of this blog having a somewhat negative story, I want to put it on the record that after my first week of Jenny Craig, I weighed in at 5.6 pounds less. I'll take it! :)