Waiting in the Walgreen’s pharmacy line, listening to a man get medicine for his cat (to be picked up by his wife), I was seething. Having been told that I couldn’t refill my birth control prescription until my pack was “80% complete” because “people would buy more than they needed,” I stood at the nexus of body, choice, and a child-free future.
I didn’t want to be the “crazy lady” but I also didn’t want to roll over and take it. I knew the women behind the counter were not to blame for this injustice; this discrimination against my sex. They were simply reading the computer. However they were responsible for spewing its bullshit on me and justifying that “insurance companies don’t want to pay more than they have to” mantra. I don’t want to have to pay more than I have to either: dollars, grief, and potential unwanted pregnancy.
In the end, after my blood pressure returned to normal, I walked out with three more months of apparently highly addictive estrogen and progestin. I was lucky this time and I know it.
It seems like we’re all fighting for autonomy these days. Ironically, me and the Tea Baggers might actually be yelling about the same things. Stay out of my bedroom and I’ll stay out of yours.