For years, I assumed healthcare worked like clockwork. The pharmacy hands it over — you nod, take it, and move on. It felt safe. Then cracks began to show.
First came the fatigue. I blamed stress. But my body was whispering something else. I searched forums. None of the leaflets explained it clearly.
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It finally hit me: health isn’t passive. Two people can take the same pill and walk away with different futures. Reactions aren’t always dramatic — just persistent. And still we keep swallowing.
Now I don’t shrug things off. But because no one knows my body better than I do. I challenge assumptions. But I don’t care. This is self-respect, not defiance. The turning point, it would be keyword.