It’s nothing short of heartbreaking to think of the number of us, especially freelancers like me, who do not have health insurance and/or pay out the nose to self-insure. A friend of mine broke her wrist, demanded to be taken to the shit-ass county hospital and still nearly had to file bankruptcy. Bah! Further, I have been dealing with many different health insurance companies lately, as I’m shopping around, as I often do, to make sure I’m getting an okay deal, and blongity-bloong it’s fucking confusing. I really appreciate when someone in a particular industry uses coded jargon only other industry insiders know. Sure, it pisses me off when people condescend one another, too, but, c’mon, there is a middle ground. I asked a customer service representative what a string of initials stood for and he scoffed. Audibly. It turned out to be something specific to pediatric emergencies. I don’t have kids! So, how the hell would I know what it stood for then? Jeebus. Then, when I attempted to end the call by thanking the representative and insisting I needed a day or two to think over my options, the dude exploded. He said, “Sweetheart, you don’t want to make a decision today? After all I’ve done for you?” Bling! Blam! Bloom! Did you hear that? Sweetheart? And, wait– was that an attempt at making me not feel like a pleasing and nice girl for troubling you to do your fucking job? Get real. So, when it was over, I called the supervisor and let him know that I wouldn’t be pursuing health insurance with any company that would allow their employees to speak to a customer or potential customer like that. Boo!