Trust Me. I'm the Doctor.

I heard on the news today that the average life expectancy for women living in rural areas has dropped.  This was not good news to me as I am a woman living in a rural area.  The report cited lack of education and obesity as determining factors.    
The study did not specify what is meant by lack of education.  But there are two possible ways to interpret this idea.  Perhaps the suggestion is that the women who are dying younger are not college graduates and, therefore, have lower incomes and cannot afford good medical care--a truth that I have experienced first hand.  Another way to interpret the “lack of education” might be a lack of knowledge about health and nutrition.
I don’t challenge the accuracy of the report, but I am offended (maybe appalled is a better word) by the causes.  So it is coldly reported that fat and stupid middle-aged women, like myself, are kicking the bucket earlier--and it is because we are fat and stupid and poor.  
I am definitely poor…compared to any doctor.  I have an anxiety disorder for which I take daily medication.  To continue my prescription, I must visit my doctor every three months.  I have been going to her for more than two years.  And in that time, each visit costs more than the last.  My last half-hour appointment cost a whopping $170 out of pocket.  And I do have “health insurance.”  It’s just that my deductible never seems to be met until December 15th or so.  
I am definitely fat.  Here is a confession that might surprise some of my facebook friends who have not seen me in person in a while. (I try to avoid posting full body photos.)  I am at least 50 pounds overweight.  I attribute this largely to a thyroid problem which I cannot afford to address.  I’ve tried--to the tune of more than $500.  And I can’t afford to spend any more on this issue.  I’ve found that doctors often hand you indeterminate test results and send you packing to their specialist friend down the street who needs to make a boat payment.  
But don’t call me stupid.  I have been told that my blood pressure is high.  I am very aware that there are blood pressure medications.  (Not sure I trust them though, with the amount of lawsuits against FDA approved drugs.)   I am also aware that my weight is part of the problem.  It would help me greatly if testing and treatment for my thyroid issues were not so expensive.  And many of us middle-aged country bumpkins are growing around the middle because we don’t have enough money left after high medical bills, etc. to buy decent food.  I am quite aware that macaroni and cheese is not healthy.  But there are weeks when that is all my budget will allow.   
I went through extensive heart testing a couple of years ago (costing about $15,000) to learn nothing.  So I hesitate to place myself back into the hands of some doctor who will take every dollar he can without really helping.  In fact, I am sure that money struggles from medical bills have contributed to my current blood pressure issues.    
And, you know what?  There would be no need for a socialistic health care system that decides who is worthy of life, no need for insurance itself, were it not for the greed of the medical world.  Yes, I dare say to doctors (the holy elite of our modern world), You are a rip-off.  Have you ever stopped to consider why insurance ever came about?  Because various products and services are just too expensive to afford.  And this is something that is eloquently justified by those on the medical payroll.
So what are we rural women doing?  A lot of us are attempting an impossible balancing act.  Making scary judgment calls.  Do I have colon cancer?  Or is this just Irritable Bowel Syndrome?  Do I go to the doctor or pay my mortgage?  Will I buy the wheat bread this week?  Or maybe I’ll go with the bad-for-you white and splurge on some fresh vegetables.  Many of us are living this reality.  Some of us might be too ashamed to admit it.  But whether one faces it or not, it’s a problem that we are dying earlier.  And it is probably comforting for the medical world to imagine that it’s simply because the one’s dying are choosing to be fat and unedumacated.  
(Yes, that misspelled word is sarcasm.)