“How Are You Paying Today?”

I hate that everything in America is a transaction. Even pain. Even fear. Even health.

Walk into a doctor’s office. Maybe you’re anxious, maybe you’re hurting, and before anyone asks what’s wrong, the receptionist asks:

“How are you paying today?”

That question says everything about this country.

Not “What brings you in?”

Not “How can we help?”

Not “Are you okay?”

Just: How will you be affording your right to exist today?

We’ve turned care into commerce. Healing into a service. Suffering into an invoice.

Even if you have insurance, you’re still in the system; dodging surprise bills, guessing what’s “in-network,” gambling with deductibles. Coverage doesn’t mean care; it means you’ve bought a seat at the casino.

It’s dehumanizing. But that’s what America does. It reduces everything to a transaction. Your health, your education, your time, your grief. It’s all on the market. You’re not a person; you’re a customer. A credit score with a heartbeat.

And that’s the part that eats at me: you can do everything “right,” and still lose. You can work, contribute, obey, pay then get sick and be told, “Sorry, that’s not covered.”

This is a country that preaches freedom but puts a price tag on survival.

I’m tired of pretending it’s normal.

More people should be.