In my last post, I wrote a cautionary tale about how one shouldn’t cyberpunk too close to home–at the time, I was facing a major neurosurgery which involved implanting an artificial disc into my spine, which was a more modern way of warding off permanent spinal cord damage and eventual paralysis.
That didn’t exactly happen.
I got surgery, alright. But I did not get that awesome new cyberpunky implant. Thanks to the magic of our broken insurance industry, I got stuck with an archaic procedure that essentially guarantees the rest of my spine will crumble within the next 10-20 years.
Imagine my excitement.
But wait, there’s more! Stay tuned for another update about exactly how dystopian this whole affair ended up. Trust me; It’s a real riot.