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Fifteen Thousand Dollar Man before/after Some days are wonderful expressions and affirmations of life. And some days are just a kick in the ass. Having trouble with the health insurance. 'Rents...encouraged...me to go to the doctor, seek treatment, and are picking up the bill. The bills total fifteen grand at this point. Do I feel shitty. My first thought was, "Man, you should have let me die." Well, perhaps I would not be dead of illness at this point, but had I not gotten treatment...well, there is no way I was going to the hospital, see. And the pain was wearing away my soul like a sandcastle in the ocean's surf. Call it what you will, I call it the end of horrific pain and a life not worth living. I have no fear of death. Never have. Guess these morbid thoughts are irrelevant, as I am feeling much better. Not all the way there. I am much as though climbing a mountain, and am half-way up, with no real vista to assuage my exhertions, and no point in quitting being half-way there. I'm alive, whatever, not going anywhere anytime soon. That is, not unless I make some adjustments to my lifestyle, and really, I think the changes I have to make are amenable, if not dull. There are exceptions to everything, though. Its just what follows from this I have no idea. Need to think of a way to pay them back. This will take awhile. Fu-u-u-u-ck. When they made the offer to pay the bill, take me to the hospital, whatever it took, and my father asked me what I wanted to do, I never told him, but the first thought that came to my head was, "I'll dig a hole and lay in it, you shoot me." Who knew this would have been the most economical sentiment. To purchase necessary treatment should not be like this. Were it not for the 'rents, I would now be a slave of some sort to the insurance/pharmeceutical/HMO axis. I feel like a pathetic ass of a human being.
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