Ow!

My employer, like many other large ones in the US, assesses a higher fee for health insurance if we don't cough up certain statistics for them. I don't know how much of this is snooping and how much is forcing us to at least get certain tests annually. Distasteful as the former is, we established several years ago that I can be bought on this if the price difference is high enough.

Many locations have on-site "clinics" where you can show up, let them prick your finger, fill out paperwork, and be done. My location is too small for that, though, so we have three choices: go to your doctor, go to a lab where they'll do it, or order a do-it-yourself kit. I didn't want to pay for an office visit just for this and the lab sounded like a hassle, so I ordered the kit. I mean, it's just a pin-prick, right? Even with my needle-aversion I can handle that. I did this through my doctor last year and through an on-site clinic at my previous employer, so I figured this'd be ok.

I will never, ever do that again. Their damned lancet hurt, and I had to do it twice to get enough blood (answering the question of why they sent two while providing instructions using one, I guess). It left bruises on my finger. Hours later it still hurts if I'm not careful when typing with that finger. And the puncture marks are bigger than I expected. This...did not happen with my past experiences.

Nope, not doing that again. Grr. What they learn about my blood sugar better be worth it.

#SaraiToo

Our associate rabbi gave a powerful talk this past Shabbat for Lech L'cha, the beginning of the Avram (Avraham) story.

When I was five, my classmates and I were playing in the schoolyard as part of the afterschool program. We were running around and the boys decided that it would be fun to chase the girls around and kiss them. One boy started chasing me and, although it’s very possible that I was also giggling out of nervousness or as excess energy from running, I was clear that I did not want him to kiss me. Finally, he managed to grab my hand and kissed the back of it. I promptly burst into tears and ran and told the teacher. She took a couple moments to placate me, telling me that I wasn’t really hurt and that it just meant that he liked me. Then she went to the boy, yelled at him, and put him in time out.

The typical response to this story is to laugh at what little boys thought was fun and to tease me for overreacting to an innocent kiss---clearly I was at the age when girls think boys are gross and vise versa. Sometimes people feel bad for the boy who got in trouble because I was upset by something so minor. I often imagine the teacher struggling to hold in her laughter at the ridiculousness of the situation and thinking to herself that it wouldn’t be too long before I’d react very differently.

But this was also the first time I remember being kissed against my will. At five years old, someone else decided that my body was for his use.

Go, read the whole thing.