Valerie has accused me, on occasion, of being against doctors. This is a grave and serious crime for someone who is marrying a person who wants to **be** a doctor. I have assured her that this is not the case. The problem is not that I don’t like doctors, it’s that I’m not very good at the physical realm. Give me metaphysics any day. I’m very inclined to be one of those Manichaen types who call the physical bad, the spiritual good, and have done with it. Alas that I am addicted to truth and know that it cannot be so. God created the physical realm, and called it good, and it has ever been so. Nevertheless, I’m not good *at* the physical realm.
I am, however, decent in economics, and I hate the insurance industry. By my keen understanding, it looks more like a cartel than an industry to me. Case in point: It’s my understanding that my place of work pays an average of about $15,000 per year per employee for medical benefits. What we have is supposed to be really good coverage. I couldn’t tell you the difference. But I can tell you that $15 K is 60% of my wages. I’m getting married in 2 months. I’d love to take a gamble have them give me half of that $15,000 and waive the insurance. I’m not at risk for cancer or heart disease. Seven thousand dollars would be a lot more useful to me than to visit a well-paid man in a white coat so he can tell me I’m not sick.
I did visit the nice man in the white coat, by the way Continue reading “I’m Daft at Medicine, or Why I Don’t Do Drugs.”
