This just in

Do you suppose it's some kind of party favor for the re-release of Sicko? For the third time since my tour through the medical fun house began about seven months ago, I've gotten a new insurance ID card in the mail. It's still platinum, and the numbers and co-pays on the front still look the same, but I'm growing ever more suspicious of that magnetic stripe on the back. I wonder what, exactly, it says about me. Perhaps next week, when I go to make claim number fifty-one for the year at the second opinion appointment I've had scheduled since the summer--thank baby Jesus we don't have that evil socialized medicine that would force me to wait--I'll find out.