I Make Rash Decisions

Ew.

After a bender beach weekend with dear friends, a wedding, and more Germans than I'd ever met, I had to return to the reality of my work and temporary unemployment. My hen friend and I had one more fine dining experience in St. Petersburg (Florida) at a gem called Kissin' Cuzzins before I had to flap out of my hangover and hit the road.

I had noticed when I woke up that morning before Kissin' Cuzzins that a minor skin irritation I'd ignored since the final weeks of tour had catapulted into a full-on rash of some variety. And since this rash now hurt, altering my walk and how I put on my underwear, I decided it was time to take full advantage of my health insurance and see a doctor. I had only used my insurance for beak cleanings before, so I was eager to see how good (or bad) my coverage was, and get a glimpse of the American health care system in the heart of Florida.