While in the past, many people choosing health insurance considered doctors in the network and the coverage offered before picking their policies, today – after healthcare reform – more are making that decision based on price.






http://insurance-technology.tmcnet.com/topics/insurance-technology/articles/310496-health-insurers-marketing-poorer-less-educated-as-insurance.htm

Thanks to someone who used to play a very insecure man with a trembling lip on TV, you may no longer be hounded in the emergency room to pay your past medical bills before you receive treatment.

Yes, Al Franken used to play Stuart Smiley, who desperately wanted everyone to like him, on Saturday Night Live. But now he’s trying to do something that would get him all the approval and acceptance he ever wanted.

http://ar-management.tmcnet.com/topics/accounts-receivable-management/articles/297056-al-franken-now-the-role-everyman-dissing-debt.htm

First there was artificial skin, created in the lab, yet able to be incorporated into our own skin, which holds out hope for victims with severe burns. Then there were skin tattoos to monitor vital signs.
But now, there is the group of chemists and engineers reporting in the journal Science, about a device placed in the body that breaks down after a desired duration of use, suitable for healing wounds after surgery to prevent infection, according to a story by Audrey Quinn.


http://www.healthtechzone.com/channels/medical-hardware/articles/310106-dazzling-new-medical-devices-sk-now-including-electronics.htm

Middle School Trauma: For ME!!!

Well, he started middle school and we (I mean, I) survived.  He's loving it.  We had some problems with homework at first (not doing it and saying he did), but he's making new friends (girls, too), and middle school seems to have gone off without a hitch.  Thank God!  Here's what I wrote at the end of summer:

My son made his own breakfast this morning.

Cornbread (store-bought) and strawberries, no big deal. Probably a good thing. He starts middle school in two weeks.

The big deal was me. I left the house, feeling guilt gnaw through me. Not make his breakfast? OMG. But when I came home, his empty plate still on the family room coffee table, I saw he'd survived, and I'm ashamed to say this, but I was heartbroken.

His growing up is hard on me.

And now that he's entering middle school, I have to accept it once and for all. Like many parents of only, and first, children, entering middle school feels like stepping off a platform right before the rushing train. (I'm talking about me, not him.)

I've dealt with sexy bands and lyrics he probably shouldn't be listening to all summer. Not to mention his fixation on Eminem (who I thought was a candy, which I thankfully didn't admit when I worked with thirtysomethings in the late `90s). But wait. He's not a baby anymore.

He's changing in front of my eyes, and while I know I can't stop it, it's making me very sad.

He's worried about having to change classes, and not knowing where anything is. And how the heck is he going to do his locker?

The really bad thing is that I hated middle school (we called it junior high, in my day), but I don't want him to know that. I'm trying not to superimpose the misery I felt in seventh grade, finding out how cool I wasn't, on him.

It's time. He's ready to move on. He's a different kid than I was, more confident, smarter, and with no problem making new friends. But still I worry. I can't walk him in on the first day of school. I have to drop him off and let him go. (He's probably going to tell me not to look at him when he gets out of the car.)

Maybe it's because he came to us when I was in late middle age, or that I'm a helicopter parent of the first order, but I've dedicated the last decade and more to taking care of this child, and it's starting not to be necessary anymore. And now what do I do with all this caring and nurturing? Try it on my husband? Nah.

Early this summer I took Phillip to meet his new principal, who took him on a brief tour. Wisely, Mr. Giberti suggested I stay in his office.

Hey, I know it's my problem. I get the whole roots and wings thing. But now I need somewhere else to focus all my control and perfectionist tendencies, and Phillip's not going to be around!

He did well in elementary school and there's no reason to think he won't in middle school. It's just, that's where you're neither fish nor fowl. At least, that's how I remember it, always struggling to find a way to fit in, and get to sit at the right cafeteria table.

I have to remember that he's going to middle school, not me. And there is some relief in that. No more running to school to help out on Picture Day, or chaperone Riverwalk, no more cupcakes for birthdays, or having to go on playdates with him (yay!).

He's exactly where he's supposed to be. Yes, the first couple of weeks may be hard, with the switching of classes and homework, and oh those lockers. But he's happy and well-adjusted, and most of all, not me, in middle school. He will be fine.

And I'm getting better. Next time we go out and he orders steak, I may even let him cut it himself.

Deborah DiSesa Hirsch is a writer who lives in Stamford.

Read more: http://www.stamfordadvocate.com/opinion/article/Op-Ed-Entering-middle-school-can-be-traumatic-3804885.php#ixzz29g4WHMIE