The thing I worked on today is a yet unpublished freelance project, so I won’t share any of it yet. Instead, here’s a little MIKA uke jam I did the other day.
I’m a person who does not tan. I use SPF 85 and have an array of hats. But I’ve never been to the skin doc, so I thought I should go and get a base reading in case my sensitive babyskin went up in flames (perhaps in a couple weeks, when I go to Australia and the sun burns my fair self to a crisp).
Even with my (admittedly cruddy) health insurance, it still took me a whole series of phonecalls, arguments, secret passwords and hour-long holds before I could get myself an appointment with a dermatologist two weeks following. The appointment was today, but even after confirming with them (TWICE) about my details, they informed me when I arrived (early in the morning, freshly showered) that I needed a referral from my GP (which I do not have) in order to see the dermo. So naturally, being the levelheaded adult that I am, capable of dealing with the frustrations of the medical system, I burst into furious rejected-tears and left.
I remember when I had some serious medical problems a few years ago, and no insurance. Actually, it was easier than this nonsense, and getting yanked around. Worst was in college, when I had TWO insurances (my dad’s and my school’s) and when I had to have an operation, neither of them would pay, citing that the other should. That debacle lasted YEARS. My credit is blighted for life because of it. No wonder I’m a little skittish about all this.
Freelance artist insurance problems. I’m movin’ to Canada. Or maybe I’ll stay in Australia, where it’s MANDATORY for everyone to get regularly checked by dermatologists.