“I’d like to go over a wellness plan with you, get you a consult with our dietitian, a chiropractic check, exercise regime, maybe some regular massage, and a referral for psychotherapy. ”
Becca frowns. “I have crappy insurance that I guarantee isn’t going to cover any of that.”
“Well, it’s difficult for me to help you get well and stay well if you’re not going to take your health seriously.”
“I’m a lot more likely to stay well if I can afford to eat instead of giving all my money to the health care industry,” Becca snaps. “I came in for something to help with the panic attacks so I can function like a semi-normal human being, but here I am fending off a used car salesman.”
Each week, Ivy at Uncharted hosts the Six Sentence Stories flash fiction blog hop. This vignette is from The Life and Times of Jane Doe and is in response to this week’s cue, “well.” Fun Sixes from other writers are here. Join us!
This Six touches on some of my rants toward what I think should be called the health don’t-care industry. Don’t get me wrong; I do think that most people who pursue careers in health care genuinely want to help people, but they are hogtied by a billion-dollar machine with more focus on profit than actually caring about people. More on that later. Maybe. If I can make it cohesive.
Becca is hauled up short, this complete stranger, obviously foreign at that, wanting her to cheer him up, or is he asking her to drive him somewhere?
“I can help you download the Uber app,” she finally manages to get out.
“Over here,” says another woman kindly, pointing toward the alcove with the elevators. Becca mentally slaps herself.
Every week Ivy at Uncharted hosts the Six Sentence Stories flash fiction blog hop. This week’s cue was “lift.” This Six is a vignette from The Life and Times of Jane Doe. Fun Sixes from other writers are at the link. Join us, hop around!
“I’d like the smothered burrito, but can I get it with chicken instead?”
“Sure. Two dollars more.”
Of course, nowadays chicken is the “healthy“ choice.* Jane remembers when chicken was poor man’s meat.
I take this opportunity to repeat my standing rant that healthy is the incorrect adjective, as when people say “eat healthy food.” To be healthy is to be in a state of good health, free of illness or injury. Of course I want to eat healthy food; I wouldn’t eat diseased food, would I? The correct form is healthful; something healthful is something that is nutritious or promotes good health. I realize this misuse has become so deeply ingrained in our vocabulary it will probably never be corrected, and I also realize that “eat healthful” sounds clunky, but “eat healthy” still irritates me. Perhaps we can find a different term altogether.
Done ranting. Now head on over to theSix Sentence Stories flash fiction blog hop hosted by Ivy at Uncharted each week. This week’s cue was “chicken.” Fun Sixes from other writers arehere.