Not too long ago, our health-care insurance company sent us an upbeat notice stating that our family was now eligible to fill our prescriptions through mail, a switch that would presumably save them and us some money. We could circumvent the drugstore altogether. This was presented as terrific news. When my husband handed the notice to me, after a quick glance, I dropped the notice as though its paper were laced with carbolic acid and started sputtering. “What? Why?” I demanded. “I don’t want to do this. Why would I ever want to do this?” Continue reading
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