Compliance Is Not Care
I went into my medical records looking for information. I came out pissed off. At the top of every UNM Health record it says my name, my birthdate, and then, predictably, male. No way to fix it. No place to correct it. Meanwhile, the Catholic hospital somehow got it right. This is a story about that moment, and about the systems that insist on explaining themselves instead of listening.
The Rage of Recovery
Drool, dependency, and a staircase that suddenly feels like Everest. Healing isn’t noble or poetic. It’s rage, humiliation, fire, and the refusal to surrender your autonomy — even when life keeps stacking obstacles in your way.
Micro-Rant: Your Voicemail Is Too Damn Long
I had to call my insurance adjuster today, and of course he didn’t answer — but the real crime was his voicemail. Why are people still recording long-ass greetings like it’s 1997? Nobody needs a personal monologue before the beep. Just let me leave the damn message.