I think I'll call him Harold

My ulcer that is. What? How do I know I have an ulcer? Because I googled "unbearable gut-wrenching fire-ball of pain in my stomach", and that's what came up.

Because WebMD told me so. And we all know that WebMD is, in fact, a fine replacement to a living, breathing, real-life doctor.

Because, although I'm not a doctor, I do play one in my head, and after waiting 45 minutes to see me for a quick 5 minute visit where I pretended to intently listen to all my symptoms, that's what I told myself. I also wrote myself a prescription on the wrapper of a chocolate bar, but the pharmacy wouldn't take it.

Actually, the truth is, I've had one before, and I can remember all too well the pain that drinking my morning glass of orange juice brings.

My blog has pretty much been doom and gloom lately. And I hate that, but I can't pretend that everything is shiny and happy when it's not.

Yesterday we found out that Fred's company is changing health insurance plans. And while I am so thankful that we do have insurance, this change had caused the pain in my gut to reach new levels.

It wouldn't be such a big deal, but having a child with a chronic disease that needs constant medical monitoring, makes it a big deal. This new plan is definitely not as good as our old one (we have to pay more out of pocket, and the coverage isn't as good), and there are a lot of unknowns. Namely, will all our docs take the new insurance. Will it cover a pump for Elise in the future (they can cost upwards of $5000)? There are so many other questions, but the more I think about them, the more stressed I get.

I know that not thinking about it is not a good thing. But it's my coping mechanism for right now.

I'm seriously thinking that it's time to high-tail it back north for some good, ol' socialized medicine...