The Price of a Sting

I don’t care about politics. I’ve said it enough times that maybe I’ll eventually believe it. Still, I try to balance the daily onslaught of upsetting information between network news and funny internet memes. With data flow rates like that of a firehose, I struggle with being both idealistic and apathetic to change.

With that preface, what I’m about to say may sound political, but I promise it’s not, or shouldn’t be. Two days ago, I looked out my window and saw our new mailman pacing around his van. All the doors and windows on his vehicle were open. He looked panicked.

Ever curious, I walked outside. Feigning nonchalance, I opened my mailbox before my mouth. My thinly veiled ruse to elicit information worked.

“Hey, bud, you’re not allergic to bees, are you?” he asked.

I responded that I wasn’t, but fire ants gave me a reaction once that ended with me in a MinuteClinic while on my honeymoon. I compared bees to wasps and ants and related how they were all effectively cousins in the animal kingdom, but I knew he wasn’t there to discuss the nuances of insect relations. So, I asked him what was going on.

He said he was deathly allergic to bees and was pretty sure one had flown into his vehicle. He asked if I could lean into the open sliding door and wave an empty mail bag to shoo the bee on its way. I obliged.

I waved the empty mail bag feverishly, then I began to feel odd. As an elder millennial, memories of the stranger danger kidnapping ploys gleaned from public service videos erupted in my mind. Danger, Will Robinson. A weird fear washed over me.

I sidestepped from the van. This new bladed posture made me less likely to be thrown into the open door. Crisis averted, even though I was twice the size of the mailman and physically immovable by him. Still, many serial killers were small guys. You can’t be too careful.

What a dumb thought, I know. I’m sure it’s the trappings of a generation obsessed with such things.

After waving the bag a few more times, I gave up. The bee was either long gone or hunkered deep. Either way, I hoped the mailman would be fine.

The conversation shifted back to his allergy. I asked if he carried an EpiPen for events like this.

“Normally,” he said. “Currently, I’m out, and I’ve been fighting with my insurance provider to fix the issue. The device is too expensive without insurance, and I’ll have to chance it until I get it sorted out.”

That whole exchange left a weird taste in my mouth. I was shocked to see that EpiPens ranged from $600-$800 when I Googled it, and the generic version was in the $100-$200 range. Although a little better, that was still outrageous. How can life-saving medicines like EpiPens or insulin be so cost-prohibitive?

Conversely, why are drugs like Narcan given away free or found in vending machines? Shouldn’t all life-saving medications be treated similarly in a perfect world?

Listen, I’m not making a judgment call here. But if I were to make a priority on which medication should be free, I’d choose one that treated a condition the patient didn’t inflict on themselves. No one makes themselves allergic to bee stings on purpose. All life-saving medicines should be free, or at least affordable.

We always seem to have money to fund foreign wars, but never enough to sustain those caught between paychecks. We never count the cost when bombs are dropping, but chastise teachers for setting up GoFundMe accounts for supplies. What gives?

Again, I’m not a political person, but issues surrounding common decency and empathy should rise to the top. I get frustrated when I see that we spend more on weapons than on education. We’ve let criminal companies gouge the prices of medications and healthcare to a point where people have to decide whether to buy food or medications some weeks.

I have no answers; I wish I did. I know we can do better and be the nation we pretend to be.

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Stan Lake is a writer, photographer, and filmmaker currently living in Bethania, North Carolina with his wife Jess and their house full of animals. He split his time growing up between chasing wildlife and screaming on stages in hardcore bands you’ve never heard of. He has been published by Dead Reckoning Collective, The Havok Journal, Reptiles Magazine, Lethal Minds Journal, and many others. He filmed and directed a documentary called “Hammer Down” about his 2005 deployment in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom in with Alpha Battery 5-113^th of the NC Army National Guard. You can find his books, collected works, and social media accounts at www.stanlakecreates.com

As the Voice of the Veteran Community, The Havok Journal seeks to publish a variety of perspectives on a number of sensitive subjects. Unless specifically noted otherwise, nothing we publish is an official point of view of The Havok Journal or any part of the U.S. government.