How Healthcare Works, LLC

by Jeanette R. Harrison, MPH The Real Tampon Tax I'm in my 50s. All the same, a few weeks ago, I found myself in a familiar predicament: I needed a tampon. I had a spare in my purse, but I knew that wasn't going to last me all day. None of the bathrooms at work had tampons. I had barely started this job, so I didn’t want to walk up to a complete stranger to ask for one. I thought, “I’ll go to a public restroom and get one.” No such luck. There were disposal containers for feminine hygiene products—but no actual products. Moreover, a lot of the bathrooms were locked, or you had to stand in an hour-long line at a restaurant just to get a key. I finally found a store that sold tampons. It was $13 for a box of six. That’s over $2 a tampon. That’s charging women almost 10 times more for something they need for their health and hygiene. That’s what I call the tampon tax . Photo is AI-generated Access to period products isn't a luxury. It's a basic need. No one should have to...

Maybe it wasn’t narcissism—maybe the person was just a jerk. Or maybe you were. Lately, I’ve seen an uptick in people marketing things like “Healing from Narcissistic Abuse Yoga” or claiming that hypnosis, meditation, or certain sound bytes will “erase” the trauma of narcissistic abuse. While these offers might sound appealing — especially when you’re in pain and desperate for healing — they can be misleading at best and harmful at worst. Let’s talk about why. Being outside in nature does have healing properties, as does outdoor yoga. However, healing from any kind of trauma takes a lot of time and work. Narcissism Isn’t as Common as Social Media Says First, some clarity. True Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD) affects an estimated 0.5% to 5% of the population, depending on the study and diagnostic criteria used. That’s not nothing — but it’s a far cry from what social media would have you believe. These days, it seems like anyone who was mean to you, lacked empathy, or didn’t val...

 by Jeanette R. Harrison After months of silence, I’m sharing the story no one wanted me to tell — of walking 50 miles after pneumonia, being mocked for surviving, and now facing eviction over a $160 payment discrepancy. This isn’t just a blog post. It’s a truth some people never wanted me to say out loud. I haven’t written about any of this since May. Not because nothing has happened — but because I’ve been walking on eggshells. Literally and figuratively. I started an entry-level job at a clinic after six weeks of being unemployed and recovering from pneumonia. I had to borrow money just to get to the job. When I asked for help, I was told, “Your transportation issues aren’t our problem.” Someone even told me I should walk -- because I wrote a walking book. But, I had just recovered from pneumonia. I could finally breathe again, but I still had a persistent cough and a weakened body. My apartment manager wouldn’t give me an accommodation because she said I’d already used my “...

by Jeanette R. Harrison  When Success Doesn’t Pay the Rent: The Cost of Living a Public-Private Life From the outside, I look successful. I’m an author. I’ve published books people actually read. I’ve created an online course. I speak about healing, health, and resilience. I’ve been featured on podcasts, in magazines, have a strong following on social media, and when people find my work, they often say, “This helped me.” But behind that public-facing life — there’s another reality. This weekend, I sat in my apartment with a three-day notice taped to the door. I spent the last few days scrambling to find ways to bring in money — not for luxuries, but for survival. Rent. Groceries. The basics. I’m running a business with national reach and scraping by at the same time. I work a technically entry-level day job, and while I’m grateful for the competitive wage, it’s not utilizing all of my skills. It’s not my passion. And it’s not enough — because I’m starting from behind. Again. ...

 by Jeanette R. Harrison, MPH What's on my mind this morning as I drink my coffee? I received the infamous three-day notice on my door last week. In Idaho, apartment managers and landlords can place a three-day notice on your door if you do not pay the rent the day it is due. Of course, it is at their discretion because over half of our legislators in Idaho are landlords. Needless to say, tenants have very few rights. If you have been reading my posts, you know that I lost my day job because I contracted pneumonia. I wasn't able to work that job or work on my business. Because I'm a temporary worker, I don't have things like short-term disability or anything even as luxurious as health insurance. Staffing agencies do offer health insurance, but you lose your insurance as soon as you leave the job. I know someone out there reading this is thinking, "Why didn't you just go on Medicaid?" As a single woman in Idaho, to qualify for Medicaid, my monthly income w...

by Jeanette R. Harrison, MPH I'm working on my next book, "Keep Walking, Keep Moving: How to Keep Going When Life Gets Hard." Friends and strangers alike compliment me on my strength, my resilience, my bravery, and my courage. They wonder how and why I do it.  Because I feel like it's my only choice. It's not anger that fuels me. It's hope. It's the hope that I will reach the summit one day and see the beauty of the world around me.  I’ve spent my entire life pushing uphill—out of foster care, through college that I paid for myself, into jobs that barely paid the bills, and through homelessness that I had to claw my way out of. Five years later, I was getting my master's degree and sitting in the boardroom of a billion-dollar organization. I had to start my life over with next to nothing and no support during a global pandemic. I’ve never had a financial cushion. No real safety net. No backup plan. The plan I'm working on every day when I wake up i...

  by Jeanette R. Harrison, MPH A few weeks ago, I found myself in one of the most stressful situations a person can face: eviction mediation. My rent was over $8,000, and I only had five weeks to figure out how to pay it. I was earning about $600 a week through a temporary job at a local accounting firm—barely enough to cover basic expenses, let alone thousands in back rent. But through a combination of resources, determination, and generosity, I pulled through. A local eviction prevention program stepped in to help. I used my entire income tax refund. I stretched every dollar and ended up living on $100–$200 a week. Some incredible individuals donated during that time, and I want you to know that your help went directly to essentials: rideshares, the bus, groceries, my phone bill, utilities like gas and electric, and other bills. I am so grateful for your kindness and generosity. It still wasn’t easy—I was hanging on by a thread—but I stayed housed, and that matters. What keeps...