While I’m reading, a sentence will grab me and force me to stop. I pay tribute to other authors by sharing their Damn Fine Sentences with you. Then I recount a memory the words bring up for me. It’s about how books connect with your life.
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“There is no story that is not true.”
———Chinua Achebe
--——Things Fall Apart
I moan to the nurse that my prescription has skyrocketed to $600.00. “Can you believe it,” I say. “Sixty dollars a pill.”
“Oh no, you’re in the stupid donut hole. Try the manufacturer’s website for a discount coupon.” I’d vaguely heard about the donut hole. Now it’s my life. On my way out the door, she hands me six free samples.
I navigate the website until my eyes cross, only to discover the manufacturer won’t provide its discount to Medicare clients. I’d vaguely heard about the Sophie’s choice of medicine versus food. Now it’s my life.
I dip into my retirement account to cover the cost.
The pharmacy cashier says, “Oh dear, do you realize this is 600.00? You can get a discount coupon from their website.”
I shake my head. “Not if you’re on Medicare.”
A fleeting expression crosses her face, which I interpret as total disgust with the system. When I get home, I discover six free samples stuffed into the bag with my prescription.
My story is: The system’s so unjust, I’m infuriated.
My story is: People are so kind, I’m delighted.
----------------------------------
“There is no story that is not true.”
———Chinua Achebe
--——Things Fall Apart
I moan to the nurse that my prescription has skyrocketed to $600.00. “Can you believe it,” I say. “Sixty dollars a pill.”
“Oh no, you’re in the stupid donut hole. Try the manufacturer’s website for a discount coupon.” I’d vaguely heard about the donut hole. Now it’s my life. On my way out the door, she hands me six free samples.
I navigate the website until my eyes cross, only to discover the manufacturer won’t provide its discount to Medicare clients. I’d vaguely heard about the Sophie’s choice of medicine versus food. Now it’s my life.
I dip into my retirement account to cover the cost.
The pharmacy cashier says, “Oh dear, do you realize this is 600.00? You can get a discount coupon from their website.”
I shake my head. “Not if you’re on Medicare.”
A fleeting expression crosses her face, which I interpret as total disgust with the system. When I get home, I discover six free samples stuffed into the bag with my prescription.
My story is: The system’s so unjust, I’m infuriated.
My story is: People are so kind, I’m delighted.
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