Lately I've been thinking about health care as a right. We don't tend to think of health care as a "right," but is it? Should it be?
What if we had to have insurance just in case someone mugged us and we had to call a cop? What if the cops charged $200 processing fee and $150 an hour for their time? What if Detectives cost an extra $300 an hour because of their expertise? What if people went broke from the cost of a police response? That never happens, because we long ago decided that we wanted personal safety to be an automatic right. We all pay the police (not enough, by the way) to look after us. There is no additional cost.
OH NO! SOCIALIZED POLICE FORCE!!! I can't believe they got this past us. You mean the public pays for everyone to be safe and free from crime? What kind of crap is that??? You should have insurance that pays in the event you need a police visit. For security, we should just hire private security firms to protect our houses and families. I can't believe they got that one past us...
By the way, did you know the term "Socialized Medicine" was developed by a PR firm back in the 40's? This is a documented fact. Source: http://www.slate.com/id/2175477/ See also http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Socialized_medicine or just google it yourself.
Then president Harry Truman, seen by history as one of the most industrious, hard working and honorable men to ever sit the Oval Office, was making a go of health care reform. His opponents, the insurance interests, the pharmaceutical interests, and various other groups that were profiting from inflating costs, began using the term "Socialized Medicine" as a way of villifying attempts to cut out the insurance interests and let the public pay directly for health costs. In that McCarthy-era battlefield, the slur won out.
People continued to pay into a system that milked the many to pay high costs for the few. A system that made sure if you were not getting milked, you were getting #@&$'d!
Let me just say it now. Insurance is a parasitic enterprise. Its supposed purpose is to take the resources of many and use it to help the few who need it. Instead, by making every cost accessible to every American, it ensures that costs will continue to rise. As the costs rise, insurance premiums rise. This is always the case with parasites. The host suffers in a downward spiral.
How many times have you heard some pundit talking about the "Mysterious, continuous climb in health care costs?" How many decades in a row has health care cost outstripped inflation? Three? Four? Come on... Truman was fighting this sixty years ago.
I say we reject the rhetoric. I am one of those Americans who has no health insurance. I'm a teacher. My insurance charges over $800 a month to insure my family. As a one-income family, we simply cannot afford it. Yet I make little enough as a teacher that my kids are covered by public health care for children. All I can say is, "Thank God for public health care for my kids," and... "I hope nothing happens to me."
I guess its easier to be 'socialistic' for kids... they're just so cute, how can you resist?
Speaking of 'socialized medicine,' the most popular health care system in American history is Medicare/Medicaid. No politician dares threaten them. Why? Because people love them, and because they work so good!
Can we stop falling prey to the stupid 'socialized medicine' propaganda and just think about what we, as Americans, decide our inalienable rights to be? I think the definition of what those rights are will shift throughout our history, with changes in technology, theology, and philosophy. All we have to do is decide that health is an American right, and the whole debate changes. The slur "Socialized Medicine" becomes as ridiculous as "Socialized Police" or "Socialized Mail Delivery." Once we decide we want to live in a society where health is considered an inalienable right, then the only question is how. This is still a big, daunting question, but at least one that can be approached intelligently once the fear tactics are left behind.
Other countries do not have it figured out, either. They continue to debate and change and try to find a way to provide care for everyone. Interestingly, as they debate how to improve their systems, they all agree that they want to avoid a corporate pay-for-service system like America's. They are in universal agreement on that point. We are the only developed country on the planet that does not consider health care a right of our citizens. That is a sad fact, in my opinion.
So, before we debate the kind of health care we support, let's answer the more fundamental question of rights. If we decide that we want to have the right to health care, no matter what our station in life, or what our personal situation is, then let's move forward from that point. I think having clarity on that one issue will help focus the debate. I also think we need to acknowledge that insurance is the key reason for soaring health care costs. Insurance skews the free market by artificially inflating the consumer's ability to pay for certain services, while at the same time removing the consumer from the actual purchase. Normal market forces are bypassed, allowing for out of control inflation.
The solution?
You tell me.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
I watched a child get hit by a car yesterday.
Its true. God help me, its true.
Yesterday I took my seven year old daughter to a morning event at the UofA. It was a sort of "Fun Run for Fitness." We parked in the Track Building lot, crossed Razorback road, and met the other families in a large empty parking lot. We could see the running course laid out with construction barrels.
When it happened, we had just been told the run would begin in ten minutes. People were still arriving and streaming across the street. My daughter, Blue, was saying that she didn't want to compete, and I was telling her something about the idea that we are really competing against ourselves, or some such notion.
Then it happened.
I heard a screech and a thumping sound. I turned to see what had happened. Everything was happening at once, women around me were screaming "Oh my God!" and men were running towards the street. I grabbed Blue and pulled her close to me as I craned my neck towards the street. I saw an SUV stopped in the middle of the street, and about 15 feet away, the crumpled body of a young girl. She looked about 10 or 11 years old. She wasn't moving.
A crowd of people had gathered around her, and I could see people calling on their cell phones. Blue was struggling to see what was happening, but I held her close. I told her a child had been hit by a car, and I told her I didn't want her to see. From where we were, I couldn't tell how bad things were, but Blue has excellent vision, and I really didn't want her to see anything that might scar her or cause her to have nightmares.
A few minutes passed, and soon cop cars arrived. Shortly after, two ambulances arrived, and the paramedics got the girl on a gurney and rushed her away.
In the minutes that followed, Blue and I talked about why there were two ambulances, a fire truck, a police truck, and three police cars. I told her that when a child is injured, everyone rushes to help. She asked me, "What if I was hit by a car?"
Biting back tears, I told her, "You would not be hit, because you always look both ways before crossing the street."
But she persisted. "But what if I did?"
I told her there would be probably fifteen emergency vehicles, because she is even younger. I don't know why I told her such a silly thing. I just wanted her to believe that she lives in a safe world, where the adults have things under control. She then asked me how many emergency vehicles there would be for a four-year-old. Then for a two-month-old.
I was desperately looking for a way to steer the conversation away from children of ever-decreasing ages getting hit by cars when a prayer circle formed. People were calling us to participate if we wanted to.
I wanted to.
We prayed. As a large group and as individuals. We prayed that God would be with that child. We prayed that He would be with the paramedics, nurses, and doctors who would treat her. We prayed that He would comfort her parents and give them strength. We even prayed that the young man who hit the child would find some peace.
After the group prayer was over, I asked Blue to pray a special prayer. I told her, and I believe it, that a child's prayer is a precious thing. She did. That sweet little girl sent up the most beautiful and thoughtful prayer I've ever heard come from a child's lips. When she was done, I knew that God must have heard. I knew He would listen and respond.
Instead of racing, the sponsors decided it would be more appropriate to have a family walk. We were to walk with our loved ones, and pray and talk about what had happened. We were lucky that we hadn't actually seen the poor girl be thrown 20 feet through the air, but many of the adults and children there were not so lucky. In my heart of hearts, I believe that young girl had probably seen a friend and was running to join her. What did that friend see?
They told us they thought the girl was going to make it, and I thought that would be the end of it for me. I heard a man next to me say, "Well, we'll read about it in tomorrow's paper," but I knew I wouldn't. I never read the paper, and I don't have a television. However, I felt pretty sure the girl would be okay. I did worry that she might have permanent damage, but I didn't fear for her life.
* * *
Today I went to Arsaga's to work on my novel, "The Long Dark." I was sitting at the front table with my laptop, sipping on an Arsagaccino when I noticed a newspaper on the table beside me. A heading caught my eye. It said "Young girl killed by car."
My blood went cold. I knew, but I desperately hoped it was some other incident. As if it would be any less a tragedy! But as I read, the time and place matched. She died on the operating table a few hours after she was hit.
I wept right there in Arsaga's.
What are the odds that section "C" would be right there, and the paper turned just right so I would happen to notice? It was a small headline, off to one side in the middle of the page, yet I saw it. Was I meant to see it? Am I supposed to learn a lesson? It certainly has gotten me thinking.
I'd lied to Blue. The world is not safe. We adults don't have it figured out. And God doesn't always answer prayers. Even a child's prayers.
I think about Blue and my other daughter, Rainy, and I don't know what I would do if I lost them. I'm just so sad right now. I've cried through this entire blog.
A little girl died yesterday. An innocent child. She died on an operating table while I was playing in the park with Blue. Why? Oh God, why?
Yesterday I took my seven year old daughter to a morning event at the UofA. It was a sort of "Fun Run for Fitness." We parked in the Track Building lot, crossed Razorback road, and met the other families in a large empty parking lot. We could see the running course laid out with construction barrels.
When it happened, we had just been told the run would begin in ten minutes. People were still arriving and streaming across the street. My daughter, Blue, was saying that she didn't want to compete, and I was telling her something about the idea that we are really competing against ourselves, or some such notion.
Then it happened.
I heard a screech and a thumping sound. I turned to see what had happened. Everything was happening at once, women around me were screaming "Oh my God!" and men were running towards the street. I grabbed Blue and pulled her close to me as I craned my neck towards the street. I saw an SUV stopped in the middle of the street, and about 15 feet away, the crumpled body of a young girl. She looked about 10 or 11 years old. She wasn't moving.
A crowd of people had gathered around her, and I could see people calling on their cell phones. Blue was struggling to see what was happening, but I held her close. I told her a child had been hit by a car, and I told her I didn't want her to see. From where we were, I couldn't tell how bad things were, but Blue has excellent vision, and I really didn't want her to see anything that might scar her or cause her to have nightmares.
A few minutes passed, and soon cop cars arrived. Shortly after, two ambulances arrived, and the paramedics got the girl on a gurney and rushed her away.
In the minutes that followed, Blue and I talked about why there were two ambulances, a fire truck, a police truck, and three police cars. I told her that when a child is injured, everyone rushes to help. She asked me, "What if I was hit by a car?"
Biting back tears, I told her, "You would not be hit, because you always look both ways before crossing the street."
But she persisted. "But what if I did?"
I told her there would be probably fifteen emergency vehicles, because she is even younger. I don't know why I told her such a silly thing. I just wanted her to believe that she lives in a safe world, where the adults have things under control. She then asked me how many emergency vehicles there would be for a four-year-old. Then for a two-month-old.
I was desperately looking for a way to steer the conversation away from children of ever-decreasing ages getting hit by cars when a prayer circle formed. People were calling us to participate if we wanted to.
I wanted to.
We prayed. As a large group and as individuals. We prayed that God would be with that child. We prayed that He would be with the paramedics, nurses, and doctors who would treat her. We prayed that He would comfort her parents and give them strength. We even prayed that the young man who hit the child would find some peace.
After the group prayer was over, I asked Blue to pray a special prayer. I told her, and I believe it, that a child's prayer is a precious thing. She did. That sweet little girl sent up the most beautiful and thoughtful prayer I've ever heard come from a child's lips. When she was done, I knew that God must have heard. I knew He would listen and respond.
Instead of racing, the sponsors decided it would be more appropriate to have a family walk. We were to walk with our loved ones, and pray and talk about what had happened. We were lucky that we hadn't actually seen the poor girl be thrown 20 feet through the air, but many of the adults and children there were not so lucky. In my heart of hearts, I believe that young girl had probably seen a friend and was running to join her. What did that friend see?
They told us they thought the girl was going to make it, and I thought that would be the end of it for me. I heard a man next to me say, "Well, we'll read about it in tomorrow's paper," but I knew I wouldn't. I never read the paper, and I don't have a television. However, I felt pretty sure the girl would be okay. I did worry that she might have permanent damage, but I didn't fear for her life.
* * *
Today I went to Arsaga's to work on my novel, "The Long Dark." I was sitting at the front table with my laptop, sipping on an Arsagaccino when I noticed a newspaper on the table beside me. A heading caught my eye. It said "Young girl killed by car."
My blood went cold. I knew, but I desperately hoped it was some other incident. As if it would be any less a tragedy! But as I read, the time and place matched. She died on the operating table a few hours after she was hit.
I wept right there in Arsaga's.
What are the odds that section "C" would be right there, and the paper turned just right so I would happen to notice? It was a small headline, off to one side in the middle of the page, yet I saw it. Was I meant to see it? Am I supposed to learn a lesson? It certainly has gotten me thinking.
I'd lied to Blue. The world is not safe. We adults don't have it figured out. And God doesn't always answer prayers. Even a child's prayers.
I think about Blue and my other daughter, Rainy, and I don't know what I would do if I lost them. I'm just so sad right now. I've cried through this entire blog.
A little girl died yesterday. An innocent child. She died on an operating table while I was playing in the park with Blue. Why? Oh God, why?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
