Powers That Be

“Where did the socks go?” she wondered aloud as she was putting on articles of clothing that would seal the chill from stealing her heat. She had been doing a thorough going through of all her things to limit what she keeps and must have put them in a different drawer. Now to remember what logic she was using at the time.
With the sun not beating down on the house the hours it does in summer, it starts to chill and stays that way — no amount of sun seems to inch the interior temperature up one iota by this time. She might just have to have the heat pump looked at and the broken thermostat changed out so that it can be turned on for a spell to cut the chill, at least in the mornings — give the house a boost for warming up from the inside out. What she’d rather do is hire someone clever enough to build a rocket mass heater in the space where the little wood burning, useless metal box is.
Ah well. Better things to think of for this day, she thinks to herself. She’d get the space heater.
The sun is a space heater too — it heats space. “Crazy mind”, she says out loud.
Everyday there is some kind of issue to attend. Two days passed with little done other than to soothe a migraine brought on by eating food not from her own fridge — a local joint she and her friend frequent when they want a chat. She’ll have to stop doing that — not the friend, but the food. Once the body clears out toxins, it doesn’t want them back. She keeps thinking that once a week won’t hurt until directly after when the headache starts. What does it take to fully learn a thing?
It certainly doesn’t pay to get sick and the sickening process of trying to ferret out which policy to get from the gauntlet of vultures selling one of their better plans is more toxic than a veggie burrito without cheese.
Don’t get old” she’s heard with resentment all her life — as if there is a choice. When you’re young, you don’t think much about medical plans but keep that to yourself, old people, she would think. Don’t make young people fear the future. And it doesn’t help a thing to be a pessimist. Happy thinking makes well people.
Now her thoughts go directly to wondering if the powers that be are purposely putting fear and trepidation into everyone’s lives in hopes they’ll die sooner than later and then profiting from the policies they can sell all the way the old folks go down the sick hole. That’s not happy thinking, she thinks and reminds herself that she has decided to quit thinking about what evil people do. She’ll live in her own little bubble — it’s better for her health and might afford her a better policy.
She’s feeling really happy that she has found a wonderful lady to help her navigate the gauntlet. It’s a miracle to have good people in your life and it makes all the difference in the resentment one might feel at the corruption of it all that, at least, there is someone on your side to help you find the best out of the bunch of awful things. None of them had any value that was worth their price, but better one than none it seems since the basic plan is full of donut holes.
Her goal is to find a way to avoid needing it altogether but there is always the chance and that is what insurance is, a bet against chance. After all, she did go flying lately from an accidental trip that could have broken bones.
“So, I was reading about this Medigap thing and wondering if it might be better than having Advantage?” she asked her wonderful new broker.
They got to talking about things and she was explaining to Renata that she’d like to start a brick and mortar business but what it seems is that this shit called Medicare is designed to keep people down because the minute they get one dollar out of one box, they have to start all over and try to find a different box to fit in.
“It seems that the system wants to keep people poor and fearful of starting a business.”
Renata agreed but said, “Let me tell you something. Years ago, I divorced and had two young children to raise and I didn’t have a pot to, you know what, in. I started a business and I haven’t looked back. Don’t let the system steal your dream. I don’t know what kind of business you want to start, but maybe I can help you.”
Trying to remedy her own health issues, she’s been reading lately about being your own placebo and Norman Cousins was mentioned in the book. She looked him up and it turns out that Norman cured himself of a debilitating arthritic disease of his spine by watching Marks Brothers movies and doing a lot of guttural laughing. He had been told nothing could be done, that he’d have to decide which misery he wanted to live out the short rest of his life in, lying or sitting, because his spine would fix and he decided not to buy that idea at all and thought that if his disease had been brought on by stressful thinking, it could just as likely be turned around with happiness. And it worked.
Reading along about Norman, it was also stated of the benefits of a doctor that really cares and who lets the patient have some measure of control in his own treatment and a nursing staff that is truly helpful for people to get well. Something sorely missing in our current, for-profit driven system that hardly gives a doctor time to look into his patients eyes, if he is able.
She was so grateful to know that people like Renata are still out there. People that hold your hand, metaphorically, and truly help.
“Thank you Renata. I’m so happy I found you in this big wide world of poo.”
She had to think also that happy thinking might have brought Renalda to her, that she had had the expectation that things turn out right in the end somehow.
Now to find those socks and bring the boxes of fabrics in to replace the VHS movies she just took down from the shelves in the room that she is converting into a studio in the house so she can get farther along making plans for that business in her head. The timing’s right. People are starting to leave internet shopping looking for real venues. Maybe it’s my time, that’s a happy thought she thinks, maybe that will heal whatever ails me.

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