A blogger known only as JPolson kept a rather short-lived blog called True Confessions of an Ex-Human. He hasn't posted anything in nearly 5 years, but the blog is still there.
I am going to quote this post in its entirety, just in case it ever vanishes. It's even more timely today than it was when first posted.
Fantasy Healthcare - Dungeons and Surgeons
The following story isn't really a political statement or anything like that. It's just something I came up with after a bizarre dream that I thought would be entertaining. Enjoy.
Ariella continued tracing arcane symbols over the gaping wound in Jake's thigh where the orc arrow had struck him. Frustrated, she stopped, muttering curses. A cool night breeze moaned softly in the mouth of the cave where they were resting. "Nothing I try is working, Jake. I just don't know why my healing spells won't work," she said.
The lithe warrior grunted softly, the poison from the arrow-tip already draining his strength. "It's okay, Ariella, I know you tried. I don't understand it either."
Ariella softly clutched his hand in hers as her brow furrowed in thought. She had to figure this out. Devlin would return soon from scouting and the orcs might have regrouped and be in pursuit. Then, a thought struck her. "Jake, do you have healthcare insurance?" she asked.
"Yeah, RedShield, standard fighter's guild HMO," he replied.
"By the nine-toed gods of Pergarus!" she cursed, "No wonder my spells won't work!"
"What are you talking about, Ariella?" Jake asked.
"I'm not in RedShield's HMO network. Their contract enchantment is blocking my magic," huffed Ariella.
Jake rummaged around in his belt pouch and pulled out a small wooden card. "Here's my insurance card, let me contact them." He muttered the trigger phrases engraved on the back of the small piece of wood, which began to glow pale blue.
A nasally female voice spoke from nowhere, "RedShield, we've got you covered. How may I help you?"
Just then, Devlin returned from scouting. "The orcs are gone, we should be safe here tonight."
"RedShield, we've got you covered. How may I help you?" The nasally voice repeated.
"My name is Jake, I'm a member of the Fighter's Guild. I've been hit by an orc arrow and my healer's magic isn't working." Jake calmly stated.
"Is your healer a member of the RedShield HMO Network?" the nasally voice asked.
"Is that a pixeen?" Devlin asked, referring to the voice.
"Yes sir, I'm a pixeen," the voice replied, "RedShield outsources their customer service to Pixalia. Mr. Jake, is your healer a member of our HMO network?"
"No, I'm not," said Ariella, "and this is an emergency. That orc arrow was poisoned."
"Just a minute, sir, I'll have to get pre-authorization before your healer can work her spells. Please hold," the pixeen said.
"Bloody outsourcing!" spat Devlin.
Several minutes passed by and the orc poison sapped more and more of Jake's strength. His vision started to blur and his head drooped on his shoulders. Finally, the pixeen's voice returned. "Mr. Jake, I have received authorization from my manager to authorize your healer to perform her magic."
"Thank you," Jake rasped as Ariella went to work weaving spells over the wound in his thigh.
"Gods, what I wouldn't give for the good old days of universal healthcare," said Ariella as Jake slipped into a deep, healing sleep.
"Yeah," agreed Devlin, "You get some sleep, I'll take first watch."