Paediatrician

When I was a kid, my father belonged to a union, and we had full health insurance. Which meant I got well and truly overdosed on antibiotics for every passing sore throat or cold. My horrible tonsillectomy. Dr. Gagliardi. I wasn't afraid of needles, I had every vaccine, and every red spot examined. With a very deep navel, which I tried to clean myself, and my father panicked about, I was treated for my own efforts to keep clean. I did not tell my mother, I didn't have the words yet, and no one would have listened to such a small child anyway. My father made a huge deal about my acne, never considering that I was doing the same tidying, and no teen will ever admit to squeezing zits. My mother would aggressively deal with any dermatological swelling with a bobby-pin, so it was not my own idea.

I acutely remember going in for something after I'd had my first period, and Dr. Gagilardi treating me as a syphilitic whore, hands off, a vague horror. I was 11? maybe 12? Thankfully my mother also picked up on the vibe, and our insurance changed, so I got a different clinic to overwhelm my biome with antibiotics.

My father pestered me to "GO TO THE DOCTOR!" "IT'S COVERED!" And I appreciate that I had health care as a kid. My mother almost died of blood poisoning as a kid, bicycle accident, metal in her hand, red line up her arm, her father found $5 on the street, she got antibiotics, she lived, by chance alone.

Having enough money is a source of great comfort. But it also comes with a strong sense of Doing It Wrong, wasting money, enough money to really screw up. Thinking I have plenty, only it really isn't enough, and I'll wind up on the streets.

I have about 4K left of the inheritance. The bulk of it paid off the roof/solar debt, and into retirement savings. Light, suits, kettle, table next. This is the non-savings remainder. The cushion. The peace of mind. Not enough to make a difference for more savings. Not enough to do a big project, like the laundry room was. I'm torn between finding A Thing to spend it on, and keeping it as a Frittering Away amount. Mostly, I think I should let it sit until something comes up. We were at our Kitchen Gear Store, and I found a Very Good Teapot, planned to put it on this account, but Dylan stepped up and paid for it, a gift.




I have decided to think of it as my generosity account. Sent my retired co-worker a generous gift card to a really good yarn store I know she likes. And a generous gift to the son and spouse of the aide who died. One hundred hours of work, month and a half, gross. Approximately. Give or take. Big, but not enormous.