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SocietyMarch 12, 2024

The cost of being: A woman whose severe health condition impacts her budget

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As part of our series exploring how New Zealanders live and our relationship with money, an endometriosis sufferer explains how the disease affects her finances.

Gender: Female

Age: 37

Ethnicity: NZ European

Role: Part-time healthcare administrator working four days a week, I used to be a massage therapist but four years ago I got diagnosed with severe endometriosis and I had to change my role to something less physical. My husband is a full-time self-employed musician and owner of a music school.

The cost of living with this disease is expensive. I have chosen the private medical system since I have medical insurance and due to the long wait times people with endometriosis in the public system have to suffer. I didn’t want to be another statistic on the waitlist as this has already severely impacted my quality of life. This disease forces me to budget.

My living location is: Suburban Hawke’s Bay.

Rent/mortgage per week: With a small mortgage we roughly pay $600 a week which includes mortgage, rates and insurance.

Student loan or other debt payments per week: I have a student loan, $75 a fortnight gets deducted from my pay. I don’t classify this as a debt payment but we pay $87 a fortnight for private medical insurance for the two of us. We have 80% cover for doctors, specialists and surgeries, scans etc. In the period of March 2021 to March 2023, my husband claimed $56, I claimed $48,000 but because he is in his 40s, his premium is $10 more than mine a fortnight.

Any major upcoming costs: My husband is heading to Europe next month to play at a music festival. I was meant to be going too but financially, due to my two surgeries last year and because I have used all my work sick and annual leave for the surgeries, we decided only he will go.

Over the last four years I have had to have four surgeries, all due to endometriosis, at a total cost so far of $128,000. My 20% portion of the surgical costs has been around $25,000 over the four years, averaging $6,400 a year. This also means I have saved the public health system $128,000 – and I would probably still be waiting due to the long wait periods as endometriosis (and generally speaking women’s health) is not deemed as urgent.

Typical weekly food costs

Groceries: Around $170-$220 a week.

Eating out and takeaways: Once a week for takeaways – depending what we feel like, it will range from $20-$50.

Workday lunches: I will make enough dinner to take the leftovers for lunch. 

Cafe coffees/snacks: Around $40 as there is a great coffee machine at work, so my cafe coffees are generally on a weekend. My husband is out and about for work so he stops at his fav cafe once or twice a week.

Savings: We live off my husband’s salary which covers our daily outgoings, groceries, mortgage and bills. A little bit of my income tops up our mortgage and rates account. The remainder goes into savings and into a medical account to help cover my appointments such as acupuncture, massage, pelvic floor physio, dietitian, supplements, medication, specialists’ fees and surgical bills.

I worry about money: Always, because of my history of surgeries and the ongoing cost of living with endometriosis.

Three words to describe my financial situation would be: Careful, aware, flexible.

My biggest edible indulgence would be… A salmon and cream cheese bagel.

In a typical week my alcohol expenditure would be… Around surgeries I stop drinking alcohol. I’ll put a good bottle of rosé or red in the groceries each week depending what’s on special around the $15-$20 price point, as the husband enjoys a glass or two some nights.

In a typical week my transport expenditure would be… $50 a week in petrol. My husband’s business covers his petrol.

My most expensive clothing in the past year was… Lorna Jane Maternity shorts, $95. Even though I’m not pregnant, the bloating I can get looks like a seven-month-pregnant belly and these shorts are sooo comfy. They are totally worth the price and the embarrassment of being asked when I am due or if I want to try a maternity bra when I purchase them in store.

My last pair of shoes cost… $80 to wear for a wedding.

My grooming/beauty expenditure includes: I used to get my hair coloured with foils but since my diagnosis and my ongoing costs, that was the first thing I stopped. I get my hair cut once every 10 to 12 weeks at $85 a time. I treat myself to a facial a few times a year.

My exercise expenditure in a year is about: We pay $7 a week each for our gym membership, I try to swim once a week and use a concession card to bring the cost down. I do a lot of walking and my husband runs a lot so we generally each get a new pair of Asics each year.

Most regrettable purchase in the last 12 months was… I spent $54 on a pack of silicone tape to help my scars heal. The strip was super thick and would get caught on my clothing and come off. I purchased another brand that was $30 and the silicone strips are way better, they stay on and are fading my scars nicely.

Most indulgent purchase (that I don’t regret) in the last 12 months was: A facial, my skin was looking terrible from all the recent medication. It was expensive but worth every cent to get healthy glowing skin again.

One area where I’m a bit of a tightwad is: Clothing, I will always hunt for a sale. Why pay full price if you don’t have too?.

Five words to describe my financial personality would be: Do I need this now?

I grew up in a house where money… Talked about, budgeted and saved. My parents worked hard and saved well, lived within their means and utilised the family bach for holidays. They had medical insurance for the family and when my siblings and I got our first official jobs after studying we took over our own policy and it was drilled into us to keep it going and not cancel it.

The last time my Eftpos card was declined was… A few months ago on the day my husband pays himself and he had forgotten.

In five years, in financial terms, I see myself… Probably budgeting for another surgery, however, I really hope I can get back into full-time work and I also hope to have the book I am writing about my endo journey published.

I would love to have more money for… An island getaway.

Describe your financial low: Delaying the island holiday and upgrading my car due to ongoing medical costs at the moment.

I give money away to… Buskers.

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Toby Manhire
— Editor-at-large
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Hurricanes Poua perform a haka on March 9, 2024 (Photo by Hagen Hopkins/Getty Images)
Hurricanes Poua perform a haka on March 9, 2024 (Photo by Hagen Hopkins/Getty Images)

OPINIONSportsMarch 12, 2024

Women’s sport has always been political – it’s about time the CEOs embraced it

Hurricanes Poua perform a haka on March 9, 2024 (Photo by Hagen Hopkins/Getty Images)
Hurricanes Poua perform a haka on March 9, 2024 (Photo by Hagen Hopkins/Getty Images)

The Hurricanes Poua have been accused of offending the government with their revamped haka. Women’s rugby advocate Alice Soper explains why a bit of politics in sport can go a long way.

Super Rugby Aupiki opened the 2024 season on March 2 with a haka from the Hurricanes Poua. Such an occurrence in itself would be unremarkable in this women’s rugby competition. Aside from the Blues, each Aupiki franchise has a team haka they perform at the beginning of every match. Chances are you’ve seen these highlights promoted in your timeline. However, it was the variation of the haka performed by the team from the capital that has led to outrage. The Poua laid down a challenge, not just to their opposition of the day but to the political agenda of this coalition government and its approach to Māori. In response, Hurricanes CEO Avan Lee said he was “disappointed” and that the Hurricanes franchise would apologise to the government as he did not believe his teams should be making political statements. For the Poua’s second game this past weekend, a less “spicy” haka again prompted a backlash, notably from the deputy prime minister.

“Sports and politics don’t mix!” cry those whose participation in sport has never been politicised – apparently blissfully unaware of the political origins of the slogan they now speak and its place in our most divisive moment in sporting political history. They yearn for a reality that has never existed. Well, not for women in sport anyway.

Across codes, the origin story of women’s sport is more or less the same: women’s participation was at one time considered unthinkable by those who administered it. Doctors told us playing “would prove deleterious from both a physical and temperamental standpoint”. That our bones were softer than cis men’s bones. That we were fatter and less muscular, and not as stable on our feet as cis men. 

Some predicted a wider code downfall, declaring “a falling off in public support would also result from enabling girls to play the game”, while others were bald-faced in their sexism, stating in regards to my chosen sport: “If rugby is a girls’ game, then the men who play it must be a lot of ‘sissies’.” 

Barbara Cox in the 70s (Images: Cox family collection)

Nevertheless, women persisted. The modern era of women’s sports coincided with the women’s liberation movement. As New Zealand football legend Barbara Cox tells it, “It was the 70s and there was a lot of stuff in the paper about equality.”

So women’s introduction to sport was via protest, making politics a part of our DNA. The clash of the past week between cultural and commercial sensitivities at the Hurricanes was as inevitable as the politicisation of women’s professional sport. The challenge to sports administrators in this country is to embrace, rather than fear, what this overlap will bring. 

This crossover is not unique to Aotearoa. The most well-established women’s sports competitions in the world are tightly aligned with social justice issues. At the Fifa Women’s World Cup final in 2019 the crowd celebrated the winners with a chant of “equal pay”. The football world cup was held again last year (right here in Aotearoa) and this time was in the spotlight for the players speaking out against the Visit Saudi’s sponsorship of the competition – Saudi Arabia being a place many of the openly queer players at the tournament would be unsafe travelling to.

Across the Tasman, Australian netball players took a stand against the sponsorship of Hancock Prospecting, objecting to the sport-washing of a mining company whose founder had a history of racist comments. The WNBA has a player base that unashamedly and routinely speaks collectively on issues of race, gender and policing in the United States. As a result, the league has reportedly never been more popular. 

Hurricanes CEO Lee clearly isn’t aware of this pattern in women’s professional sports. He wasn’t aware of much, it seemed last week, but that didn’t stop him doing the rounds with the media before having a sit-down with his players to understand the issue. In Lee’s haste to avoid being seen as political, he politicised things further, setting up an us-and-them divide between the executive and their players that is counter to the franchise’s promise to “unite and excite”. 

If Lee wanted to understand how to respond to the Poua’s haka, he need look no further than their opposition, the Chiefs Manawa. In the moment, the players picked up the challenge that was laid on their whenua, performing their own haka. The franchise then followed their lead, releasing a statement that read: The Chiefs Manawa karanga prior to the haka spoke of the importance of te ao Māori. Te ao Māori principles are integrated in our club’s strategy and an important part of our Chiefs culture. The karanga, haka and waiata are important rituals for our organisation. We believe our players are entitled to their views, and at the Chiefs rugby club we provide an environment where every individual can be themselves by supporting our Chiefs wāhine and tāne to be the best they can be on and off the field.”

Much of the talk in relation to the Hurricanes Poua was of the risk of division and turning fans off from Super Rugby Aupiki. Be honest, how many of you knew the tournament had even started before the Poua kicked things off? 

Most of the people who took issue with their stand were already looking for one as they still resent women taking their rightful place in rugby’s professionalism. These are the people who were loud in their commentary but quiet in their action. Not to worry, they were never the target audience anyway. 

The most successful women’s rugby ticket sales campaign in New Zealand understood this and leaned into the politics of the moment to sell out the Rugby World Cup 2021 final, identifying that “more than half of the adult population now consider gender equity in sport to be an important social cause”. They crafted their campaign accordingly.  

Ruby Tui during the Black Ferns’ opening game of the 2021 Rugby World Cup (Photo: Michael Bradley/AFP via Getty Images)

The breakout star of that tournament was a proud brown queer woman who led the finals crowd in a waiata of celebration. All of this was just Ruby Tui being Ruby Tui. Still, there would be many who would call that expression political.   

Women’s sports are different to men’s sports and so are their fans. There is a place of overlap but there is a larger potential audience hungry for the authenticity of these wāhine athletes. They care less for their team colours than they do their political ones. They want their stories, not just their statistics. They want to connect with the people first, before they start loving their sport. 

The trouble with the current path that Super Rugby Aupiki is walking down is that they have umbrellaed their brands. The women’s team is positioned as a subset of the overarching men’s franchise. This limits their ability to diverge in their approach towards running the two teams. They routinely place their fan bases and their potential sponsors together in an uncomfortable marriage, which then requires a uniformity of message, leading to a blandness unappetising to women’s fans. As a result, fans don’t turn up until the players themselves show them something different. 

It doesn’t have to be this way. We can embrace the difference and grow as a result. We have many international examples to draw from – examples rooted in reality, not the fantasy of a world where sports and politics don’t mix. 

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Alice Neville
— Deputy editor
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