My boyfriend finally got around to signing up, via Obamacare and the great state of Washington, for health insurance yesterday afternoon.
He's generally remarkably healthy these days -- in the four and a half years we've been together, I've seen him get maybe two or three colds and some nasty springtime allergies and that's about it. But he's also a cancer survivor and lost a brother to suicide, and it's weighed heavy on me over the years that he hasn't had health insurance.
We joked about getting married for it because my employer-provided insurance is pretty good, as far as these things go, but it seemed a weird reason to do that whole tying the knot thing when neither of us is much interested in marriage.
Last night we were catching up on each others days, me telling him about the inherent sadness of my dinner with a grieving friend, him telling me about how relatively simple the insurance sign-up ended up being. And I can't tell you the relief that just immediately seeped through my body, both my physical and mental being, when I heard this. It felt like a previously unknown weight had been lifted, and that I maybe don't have to worry so much about him -- about whether he can afford to visit a doctor, a specialist, a shrink.