In my final week of being on my parents’ insurance, I made a final dentist visit before I entered the marketplace. Under my Obamacare plan I would have no dental insurance for the foreseeable future, so I wanted to be reassured I was cavity-free.

By mistake, I made an appointment at a new dentist’s office. The day before the appointment, the receptionist called to confirm I had insurance. “Well, I sure hope so,” I said.

A terrifying seven days unfolded before me. What if I didn’t have insurance? Did I need to spend the next week living in a cushioned bubble? Could I even go outside? What if I twisted my ankle showering? What if I developed strep throat? Who would pay the hospital bill?