i imagine gold dripping through my fingers pooling at my feet to be taken from me reverse transmuted into some kind of colourful pill to be swallowed to see what happens This was triggered by reading yet another post somewhere about the costs involved with drugs and treatment and plain old appointments for people with IBD (and other conditions, obviously, but whaddaya thing I’m going to be reading about?) in countries other than my own. It sickens me, seriously. And it makes me feel extremely lucky that I live in New Zealand, where my surgery costs me nothing*, my ostomy … Continue reading health insurance [backdated sept 12th]
Let me preface this piece by saying that I’ve had quite a bit of wine, so if I get shouty (well, internet-shouty), forgive me. But this… this really ground my gears.
So, most of the time my 365 piece posts are poetry or prose, and I occasionally sprinkle in health or book related posts, but rarely count them towards my 365 total. Today I make an exception, because I’ve had this post simmering inside me ever since I read this particular article on xojane.com this morning.