Kicking Holes in My Pocket
It is tax season, so naturally, I'm revisiting all my financial decisions – good and not so good. In the past few years, I've become pretty good at tracking my expenses just because I have a tendency to go over to the dark side and become Isla Fisher's character in the film, Confessions of a Shopaholic.
Normally, I very much enjoy shopping, but since having kids, all I can think about is making better financial decisions and making sure they get a great head start in life.
The cost of chronic illness
As I read through my budget books and poured over heaps and heaps of bank statements, I couldn't believe how much having restless legs syndrome (RLS) cost me every single year.
Expenses related to my RLS
Sometimes we don't even realize how much we are spending, and most times, this is money we don't exactly have. It's like a junkie needing a fix, except in this case, our fix is just good ol' sleep!
In this article, I'll be breaking down some expenses and how they relate to my RLS.
This is the most obvious expense of all. I have spent a copious amount of money on different types of medication, both prescribed and over-the-counter, and none, and I mean none, have really worked. It is definitely time to cut down on the number of meds I buy and stick to the ones that help the most.
I kick holes in mine, literally. So I have to purchase new ones every 3 months, and as we know, quality duvets are not cheap.
Weighted blankets and compression socks
I have to buy these ever so often, seeing as I go through them a whole lot.
Since COVID-19 has prevented us from really working out in gyms, I have taken to doing my workouts at home. Skipping ropes and treadmills aren't quite cheap but exercising has long been my trusted way of reducing my symptoms for the odd 1 or 2 hours, so it is well worth the purchase.
Too many – a Polysporin, Neosporin, Robb Ointment, and Mentholatum Original Ointment – have been purchased on each visit to the grocery store. I'm not sure they work or if it's something of a placebo effect, but I buy them anyway. And if you're wondering why I replace them often, it has to do with the same reason why we are constantly looking for our forks or plastic container covers. I really should keep better track of them and save money.
Yes, this one might come as a little bit of a surprise. Getting RLS very early in life meant my brain had to develop its own coping mechanism, so I began tongue thrusting. I already have a diastema that was hereditary, so tongue thrusting for years created a very huge gap in my teeth that I now need braces costing almost $10,000 to fix! Thank you, RLS – not.
Don't be afraid to look at the numbers
More often than not, we are not comfortable enough to look into our finances, especially the impact our health has on our savings and general cash flow.
I'm putting this out there with the hope that it will spur someone else to also do the same. Find areas that we may possibly cut down expenses, make improvements, and lead a healthier life both with RLS and money.
How often do your RLS symptoms affect your mood?