I posted this on Facebook earlier today, after I left the pharmacy. After a few requests to make it public so friends could share, I did—and it seemed reasonable, 12 shares, 45 reactions and 59 comments later—many shocked that this happens in Canada—to post it on my blog, too.

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Do you know why Canada needs true national Pharmacare?
I do every day, but especially on days like today where I leave $642.01 behind at the pharmacy counter just to function for a month, for just 4 of my 7 meds. 

Did you know that despite being self employed and having two part time jobs, I can’t get insurance in Canada that covers medication for my preexisting conditions? Okay, actually I can, but it would cover $500 in medication: less than one tenth of my annual medication costs. Less than I just paid today. 

  • I can survive without Vyvanse for my severe ADHD, but I can’t thrive. That’s the expensive one, and it’s not an enhancer, just a sort-of equalizer. 
  • I require four different inhalers to manage my moderate-to-severe asthma. (One of those I’m on right now isn’t covered for asthma under Manitoba Pharmacare, so I pay out of pocket. Despite how well it works, I’ll switch it for another drug in not-winter to save money.) This is to BREATHE, which is not exactly optional.
  • Barring other radical intervention for my fibroids, I’ll need to stay on oral contraceptives for another several decades–and this is the only drug I may have a forseeable end date on. Despite my persistence, this is not optional. (And also, even if I were using them for contraception, does the province not realize paying for the pill for a decade is cheaper than probably just getting a baby born? Never mind making them a good human?)
  • Oh, and on top of the asthma medicine, I have allergic rhinitis, for which I consider the drugs “the optional ones”, but only because my sinuses aren’t super impairing–note, my doctors disagree with the optional-ness of daily nasal steroids, and support the use of singulair as an add on. 

I am productive and mostly healthy because I have these medicines. I’m lucky I can afford the deductible which is thrown at people like me in a lump sum at the beginning of the fiscal year. I will have another pharmacy trip or two where I leave a not-insignificant amount of money behind. Just because I can afford this now–with minimal expenses, living with my parents–doesn’t mean I’ll always be able to. 

Am I happy to have some provincial coverage? Yes. 
Do we need to do better? Unquestionably yes.

We need this for every person who needs to choose between food and medicine. For every person who cant financially handle a $500 emergency—40% of Canadians. For the parents who forgo their meds to let their kids play soccer–and for the ones who can’t play soccer because their parents need medicine. For every would be enterpreneur who could change the world but is stuck at a job because of benefits.

We need this to be a better Canada–that place where healthcare is a right because we take care of each other and we take pride in that. Except we stopped short, leaving patients who are still patients after they leave the doctors office often fighting to survive. We need more than “gap filling” solutions, we need Pharmacare for everyone, all the time. 

Canada, we can do better.

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Do you have a story about inadequate access to medication or medication coverage in Canada? Please SHARE IT so others know why this issue matters. One way you can share your story is to reach out to my friend Bill at FacesOfPharmacare.ca. You can also send your story to your Member of Parliament (find them here), and most importantly, VOTE in October for a candidate who supports a true national Pharmacare strategy for all Canadians.

I spent a good quarter of my time in university learning about how you shouldn’t make too many life changes at once. (I spent another quarter in anatomy or stressing out about anatomy, another quarter dropping classes possibly due to the unknown learning disability and ADHD, and the last quarter probably actually “focused”. This is not an accurate, nor mathematical, representation of university for me.) Yet, here I am, doing just that, because FULL SPEED AHEAD is the only way I know how to go.

So here I am. 13 days into logging with MyFitnessPal. That is nearly TWO WEEKS people, that’s an accomplishment.
I’ve opened up the Coach.Me app again last night and set up some goal in there—go for a walk twice a week, exercise three days a week, meditate daily, pray daily, and write a blog post [here] weekly (hi!). 

And today, I went for a walk. Just to the mailbox, to send a letter to my Member of Parliament. Have I mentioned I’ve gotten all politically engaged since we last spoke in depth? This is not actually a byproduct of that but still, could be why I was more interested in the Asthma Society’s Hill Day stuff in the end. Honestly, it’s a wonder to me that given the state of this world and our neighbours to the south, how the eff people can ignore this! I digress (but likely not forever, and would be happy to grab a [decaf] [not-]coffee with you and discuss. And also I am thinking about going back to school to do political science and no I don’t actually know what’s currently wrong with me.)

This is not significant. The walk, I mean. It was hot (27-feels-like-29 and heat and I are not friends—my lungs and my whole body) and slow and except whatever I GOT OUT THERE.

https://i1.wp.com/farm5.staticflickr.com/4205/34318584353_db5f886ced.jpg?resize=500%2C500&ssl=1

Because here’s the thing. I have to start all over again. And so I am. I downloaded some bodyweight exercise app to my phone even. I’m LOOKING AT my Fitbit. Quantified self is one of those things that’s sort of engrained in my being one way or another so I need to USE that data. 

If a slow, 17 minute walk is all I get, guess what? It’s better than nothing.
If a three minute meditation before I go to sleep is all I do, guess what? I’ve started.
If prayer is a jumbled mess of words or a poem or “hey Jesus”? Yeah, my God knows where I’m at, even before I do.
If I don’t eat with any semblance of decency (or even if I’m closer than I usually am but still totally imperfect) but I am at least mindful of that, guess what? I’m one step closer.
If I start to write a blog post and I write “Listening to my body. Means. Going to sleep. Instead of writing.” and close my laptop, yes, I have figured something out. At least this time.
And if I admit all of this to you in a blog post? I’ve written the blog post. And hopefully, you’ll join me in stumbling towards those goals you think are too big, too hard, the things you think you’ll be imperfect at. Feel free to join me in the imperfection, learning the things they can’t teach in school.

Or at least watch along—because even stumbling is moving forward.