Enough

Enough

When I was rolling around “enough” in my mind, the word association thing happened. And I remembered that Jennifer Lopez movie of the same title that my ex-husband didn’t like much. It made him visibly nervous.

Y’all. I’m a pacifist. It’s not funny that violence made “Rodney” uneasy. It’s funny he thought me capable of it. It’s sad he thought I thought he deserved it.

Full disclosure, I did once tell him while he was cheating that I wanted to push him down the stairs. But that threat was more real in his mind than mine. And when I realized he was clearly taking it all more seriously than intended, it seemed like a good time for me to choose my words more carefully.

Anyway, what I’m really here to say is that yesterday I looked at the screenshot of my hospital receipt several times, and I realized almost immediately that having enough money to pay medical bills is more than a relief; it’s empowering.

Part of my struggle with brain cancer isn’t the cancer at all. It’s this bullshit insurance system we have in the States. There’s a part of a person that absorbs the natural consequence of for-profit healthcare: people who don’t have enough money feel unworthy.

Forget fighting insurance companies for a minute. We fight ourselves because of the messages we internalize from BlueCross and Aetna and Humana.

What do you mean some of us can’t have life-affirming treatment because it doesn’t make some rich person richer? Sure, we can formally appeal the premise, but we have to do so inadequately treated. 

Man, that is so fucked up. 

Like J Lo, I think I’ve had enough. So as an act of resistance, I hope you have enough of whatever it is you need.

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