Layman's Terms: Healthcare

Healthcare is one of those tricky subjects in politics. The ones where we realize whether or not we’re as liberal as we claim to be, since apparently since Obama, that’s the new “cool” political persuasion. (Us old school dems find it laughable, given that just a few years ago, calling someone a liberal was tantamount to calling them an unrealistic, tree-hugging, espresso drinking, European car driving, arugula eating, literati.) But no grudges, glad to see at least some people have seen the light thanks, in no small part, to our economic recession and complete collapse of the private banking system. I guess impending doom of an economic superpower is the amount of pressure needed to make individuals see past their own selfish desires and out into doing things for the good of society.

Depressing, but true. Humans are self-interested. I get that. I’m no champion of the human spirit as the driving force behind societal improvement. But individuals need to realize that the greater good, is almost always, good for them (thus the name). We as Americans like to consider ourselves among the middle class, even when statistically, very few, (and recently- exponentially fewer) people can actually count themselves among the fortunate few who exist “comfortably.” Both high and low, “middle” is where we often strive to be. This makes sense logically. We neither want to be incorporated into the “have’s” (too pretentious), nor the “have not’s” (too pathetic). Then why when an issue like healthcare, something so completely universal to the human condition in modern society gets brought up, do so many people want to be kept separate from their fellow countrymen and women.

The President’s new health care reform bill is going to help. Is it going to be perfect? No. Would I have much rather liked to see an all inclusive nationalized healthcare plan similar to those in Europe? Absolutely. But at the point the American people are at after years of the anti-national healthcare fear-mongering they have been inundated with by the Republican Party for the past 2 decades, I think this is the closest we are going to get for quite some time.

Taxing the rich to feed the poor; seems to be the colloquialism of the day when it comes to the Republican rhetoric filling our Fox news screens. Is there a significantly higher tax on the wealthy to fund this plan? Yes. Should there be? Hell yes! Those who prosper greatly off the back of the American economy and labor force, deserve to do what it takes to keep that market alive and healthy. Moreover, the tax bracket that will see the increase are those households making more than 1 million dollars a year. These aren’t exactly your everyday, kids next door. These are multi-millionaires and billionaires. It is EXTREMELY doubtful that any of them will see any significant if ANY difference at all in their lifestyles due to these tax increases. Progressive tax structures work people! 15% of 1,000,000 dollars despite being significantly more money in tactile terms than 5% of 1,000 dollars does not have the same level of impact on those households. The millionaire is not going to have to forgo groceries to pay that tax, while the lower wage earner might; even when taxed at the lower rate.

Now let’s talk in terms of why governmental healthcare program options lower costs of healthcare. Right now the private system is comprised of large insurance companies and pharmaceutical reps dealing individually with customers to negotiate the prices of their products. When the government becomes the sole of major provider of healthcare in a system rather then competing smaller insurance companies who do not have large enough shares in the marketplace to assert their buying power- it essentially becomes the SOLE buyer. Thus, it is able to essentially, name its own prices when it comes to purchasing, healthcare products and services. With no other consumers in the bidding, pharmaceutical companies are forced to sell their products to the government at costs significantly lower than when they had individual providers bidding over them and driving up the costs.

And the thought that this might kill the competition and profit making ability of the pharmaceutical companies is laughable. These companies have been posting some of the highest gross incomes and profits for years, while Americans everywhere suffer. The idea that we will somehow get inferior drugs by eliminating competition in this market is also ridiculous. These are global corporations that are selling the same drugs we get here in America at astronomically higher prices because they CAN. Other countries that have nationalized medicine receive the exact same drugs we do at a fraction of the price precisely because it is only their governments that negotiate with them, as opposed to allowing individual consumers shoulder the burden of these companies abuse of the (never truly was) free market system. This is why there were scams such as buying Canadian drugs and selling them over here. Clearly THOSE were not inferior products, despite the fictitious claims by many that they were. They are exactly the same, made in the same factories by the same employees.

So why all the hubbub? Offset your slightly increased income tax amount by the amount you will no longer have to pay for out of pocket healthcare, or there might be NO change to your plan, if you already have healthcare? There’s no downside people. Either you have healthcare (awesome) and you keep it. Or you don’t, and you now get it, (great.)

Sorry for the rant ladies and gents, but illumination needs to happen to pass these bills. Just doin’ my part.

Glass House

At first it starts as a hum. A tone. They call that tinnitus, but that’s not what this is. This is the drone of blackness. Emptiness. Void. It escalates, exponentially. Until the pitch is so clear and so loud it makes your entire being vibrate at its level.

When the first wave of stomach clenching, bowel pulsing sickness hits, that’s when you know. Sickness, sadness, darkness, like an oil drenched dragon perched on your shoulder, hissing obscenities into your ear. That’s when you start to really feel. Your body is the minion of your mind. When sorrow reigns, the body’s only natural response is to manifest that pain into physicality. Sickness.

You stumble forward, groping, grasping for the door frame, too hurried to hit the light switch just inches from your hand. Falling to your knees you crawl to the edge of the toilet and hold either side of the seat, like it was a life preserver- your last chance. The wave of despair hits again and your entire body is wracked from head to tow with a heave. Every ounce of matter in your stomach slides up your throat in a fiery acidic blaze. When it passes, you cough, hard. Sending spit, blood and stomach acid, into and around the white porcelain bowl. You collapse back and reach a damp hand to your sweaty forehead, slumped against the wall directly across from the toilet in the dark, sniffling and gasping at air in deep, thirsty gulps.

The world is spinning around you. The light from the hallway is just enough to etch the silhouette of the bathroom fixtures into your stare, and just enough to demonstrate your complete disorientation. All sense of balance and stability. Gone. As the dark shapes swirl into space before you.

How do they not know? How do they not see the agony in plain view on your face? Of course they don’t see THIS, but they must have some idea. Pain this intense can’t possibly be so invisible.

You fold yourself over and press your hot face against the cool bathroom tiles and grip the floor tightly. Fingers nails dig in deep, into the shag of the bathmat.

It’s not always like this. No, sometimes it’s cutting. The sliding of the blade across your skin; releasing the anguish, expelling the sadness. Yes, sometimes that makes the droning stop. Depends on where you are. The body is the minion of the mind. The mind knows where and what we can do to relieve itself. The appropriateness of the venue. We make the effort to hide what we know they won’t accept. It’s a shared delusion that makes things palatable for both parties. That you’re normal; that they’re happy. That the pain isn’t going to consume us one day…

But not today. The wave is subsiding, the dragon retreating. You drag yourself up into the sitting position as your breathing and your heart rate return to normal. The world rights itself.

Not today.

What to do when you’re heart isn’t in it.

So here’s how it goes. You meet someone in a bar. Cute. You exchange contact info. “Can I call you sometime?” You get called sometime. You go out some other time. The date is a flop. No stimulating conversation, no nothin’. Just a quick adieu and a, “see ya around.”

Then an hour later, a text from tre boring boy: “I had fun, we should do it again.” Seriously!? The conversation had persisted interview style for the better part of the afternoon. “What books have you read lately? Seen any good films?” Not exactly what one would call a good, or even “not bad” chat. It had been painful.

But.

You haven’t gotten positive attention from another human being for 3 months. You hadn’t even taken a shower that day. And you were still appealing? Most certainly a boost to the self esteem if nothing else. So you agree, tentatively, to try again. “Yeah. We should.”

The textual relationship continues. Tre boring boy is less boring via a medium. He’s still a cutie, despite the lack of personality. One mustn’t judge a book by a first date. You invite him over to drink.

Drunk.

You make out and let him touch you up in an alley. Your conscience kicks in. “Okay you can go now,” you state matter-of-factly. His confusion is palpable but your own desire to retain a shred of dignity is stronger than your libido. He leaves. You sleep. Alone.

It’s a week later. He’s still not giving up. Persistence has its place. One can be “worn down.” Movie and dinner? A real date. Alright. Surprised, you have fun. You think. OR maybe the loneliness has just kicked into a level of desperation. Either way, it is enjoyable. You don’t invite him home.

Why?

It’s been so long since you’ve had good sex, and this is your only prospect. If this blows, there goes any chance for getting anything worth getting for another 6 months. God only knows college sure as hell isn’t. So you hold back, scared. Does good kisser mean, good sex? Not necessarily. But bad kisser means definitely bad sex, so at least we’ve crossed that bridge.

There is no subtlety left. The texts have turned blunt and expectant. “Are you alone tonight? Should I come over?” So what do you do? Out of options.

Fuck.