Health Insurance: What is it good for?

Well, probably a great deal.

They gave us health insurance in graduate school. It was a pretty nice gig, too. We had vision, health, preventative, some sort of dental. We even had a little campus health center, where students would go with their many complaints for treatments and pills and tests. The co-pay was pretty minimal. A deductible did not exist. It was just part of the package, so there was no need to fill out papers. There was no health questionnaire. The only paperwork that ever came around had to do with going to a specialist.

Fast forward to two months ago, when I was struggling desperately to find a health insurance plan that wouldn't put me out $400 a month.

The first company seemed reasonable, but I don't know the difference between an HMO and a PPO. And, why do the first two doctor's visits have co-pays, and then I pay full price. And, why did I receive a daily phone call from the insurance salesman. It was enough to make me tell him that I wasn't interested, regardless of what he offered.

Then, there was another salesman with a group plan. But, you had to be a part of a business, which I wasn't at the time. The cost was as much for the group plan as some others that I had found that were individual. He was also persistent. I am not a fan of the "hard-sell".

Then, there was the insurance company, I ended up choosing: Kaiser.

It wasn't simple at all. I filled out all their paperwork with health questions (like I remember the last six, graduate school-filled years). I went back and forth between the plans: Deductible vs. Co-pay. You need a degree just to know the difference. Finally, I settled on Co-Pay to find out that they gave me the Deductible because the application got submitted (my fault). One person said I could change the plan. Another person said I couldn't change it. This went back and forth for days. The "you-can't-change-it-person" won. So, guess who had to start ALL OVER AGAIN!!!

Yep, it was me.

Of course, I couldn't remember my health information clearly the first time. By this point, I had blacked it all out for more important and relevant information. I was so close to just scrapping the whole idea of insurance. It didn't seem worth the hassle. I could figure something else out. But, in the back of my head, I knew how important it was.

Just on the brink of giving it up, they sent me the transcript from my original application. I spent a couple hours retyping the application. Now, I am insured.

Why worry so much about insurance?

Well for one, I wouldn't have had any insurance. Adjunct positions do not provide insurance coverage. I have luckily found two such positions for the Fall semester.

For two, I no longer feel confident being uninsured. I spent most of my adult life uninsured. I did okay. I self-diagnosed. I self-treated. I self-medicated (over-the-counter). A sprained ankle required a wrap. A sinus infection could be cured with nasal spray. Bronchitis needed vapor rub and steam. The flu would pass. A cold would pass. A concussion would pass.

I've done okay without insurance. But, I am more careful now and insurance is part of being careful. I have a family and want a family, so insurance protects me and them (although my plan is individual coverage for now).

By the way, the plan costs less than $400 a month. It isn't much less, but with two adjunct positions and a part-time job, I should just be able to swing it.

Academic Institutionalization Syndrome

I've decided to coin the term "academic institutionalization syndrome" (or AIS) to refer to the deficits or problems in social and life skills that graduate students face upon completing their graduate school careers and trying to be a part of the real-world.

Graduate students who have completed their PhD and defended their dissertations tend to experience AIS as a six stage post-graduate school symptom progression which often leads to a return to an academic institution for post-doctoral training. This occurs because new PhDs are definitely not qualified for social services and the ability for them to secure gainful employment is limited.

• Stage 1 of AIS is identified by helplessness and hopelessness stemming from an inability to find a way to reenter non-academic society. This is typically complicated by over-specialization and over-qualification, which reduces the sufferers ability to find a job;
• Stage 2 involves intense immobilizing fear about what can be done next;
• Stage 3 involves anger and rage, as well as delusions about going back to school to obtain additional degrees. In this stage, flashbacks of graduate school and other symptoms of PDSD occur;
• Stage 4 is marked by a tendency to regress to pre-graduate school behaviors (e.g., binge drinking, WoW addiction);
• Stage 5 involves isolation which increases socially-isolated behaviors (e.g., social networking), but reduces the chances of getting in trouble (e.g., DUI);
• Stage 6 includes intensification of dissertation flashbacks, an increase in research ideas, increased grant writing efficacy. These behaviors set the stage for a return to academia as a post-doctoral researcher or entry into prison, depending on how things go.

The symptoms of this syndrome, which I will address in more detail in a later post, are very similar to post-incarceration syndrome and involve:
1. Academically Institutionalized Personality Traits
2. Post Dissertation Stress Disorder (PDSD)
3. Antisocial Personality Traits
4. Social Networking Disorder
5. Reactive Restriction of Activity Disorder
As a psychologist, I most often prefer cold hard statistics to anecdotal evidence. However, as a person suffering from AIS, I know that it is a real thing requiring additional research and a treatment plan. In fact, maybe I could write a research grant and get funded to study it. Then, I can certainly get into one of those post-doc positions in San Diego... Riverside... I've got to go...