Thursday, April 27, 2006

Too poor to fuck.

It's official.

My pill just went up to fifty dollars. That's with my insurance. See, my insurance only covers generics for ortho products; I'm not on an ortho. I'm on yasmin. It's a lovely monophasic pill that comes in a fake purple suede cover and costs more than a gym membership, cable, my phone bill, or groceries.

My nurse practitioner never told me why I'm on yasmin, and not what I was on before, a generic that cost me ten dollars a month, or something else that would be affordable. I can't ask her, because last time I went in, I was charged 230 dollars in lab fees that my insurance doesn't cover. Also known as most of my rent.

There is a there are two three problems with this. One. A person should be able to afford prescription medications. Two, a person should be told why they are prescribed one medication over another, and, if there is an economic or personal reason to choose another pill, that should be heard. Three. If the pill were available without all those fucking tests, maybe I wouldn't be having to decide whether to take my pill tonight, or save this pill pack, to make my prescription stretch until I can afford a pap smear again.

It is so fucking expensive to be a woman.

Women's clothes are more expensive, and more cheaply made. Women are expected to look cleaner and smoother than men, despite having relatively similar distributions of sebacious glands, and a similar epidermis. This requires a hell of a lot of fucking money. Women need to own more clothes. More shoes. More things, period. And we're brainwashed into thinking, feeling, beleiving that shopping is fun. Are there more things for women to buy because women want to buy more things, or are women buying more things because there are more things for women to buy?

I own mascara. Eyeshadow. Nail polish. Hair dye. Face wash. Exfoliating face wash. Body wash. Moisturizer with and without spf. Razors. Depilatories. Contraceptive pills. Deodorant. Powders. Foundation. Lipstick. Lip gloss. Lip stain. Tweezers for my eyebrows. Separate tweezers for splinters. Nail files. And I'll never know exactly how to use that arsenal to manufacture a consistently innoffensive facade.

My boyfriend owns soap and condoms. And toothpaste.

If men are clean, entirely clean, they meet expectations. Women need more; whether it's for men or women's eyes- they need more. Clean and hairless and current and smooth and pert.

On top of these crap expenses, that any sensible hippy, lesbian, camper, or poverty stricken barista knows in her heart that she can do without, there are the real costs of being a woman.

Pap smears, every year. STD screenings, whether you want them or not. Contraception, and the consequences of not using contraception. A man can live his life in any manner he sees fit, without ever seeing a doctor. A woman is lead to believe that without once-yearly undercarriage maintenance, she will die or lose the ability to have children.

And that's always the way they put it. You may die, or become infertile. Slickly sliding that infertility jab in there, as if a woman may play fast and loose with her own health, (and not believe that getting poked in the vagina by a professional once a year really has a significant protective effect not found in amateur vaginal proddings), but if she can't have some fat, drooling baby produced by her very own cooter and cooter annex, life is really over.

"Don't you want to be tested for STD's? You could get PID and become INFERTILE?"

"You need a pap smear, or you'll DIE!"

1. Fine. Good. Get me some chlamydia. Immediately. I want the clap. I will leave it for a long time. Until my organs get all crusty with scar tissue. Then I won't need the pill anymore. And it will be very cost-effective.

2. No.
Thank you, very much, but I'm able to judge my own risk factors for cervical cancer. As I don't smoke, have no family history, and have only had one partner- my risk is very low. Not absent, but very low. Close to my risk of colon cancer, as meat eater only recently on a high fiber diet, with a family history of polyps and cancer in that area. Lower, probably. But you don't want me to present my camera up the ass card to get a burger at McDonalds, do you?

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Do you want me to loan you the list of prescriptions our insurance covers? It really shouldn't be what you're paying if it's covered. Even when I was on name brand pills it wasn't that much. Just let me know.