In terms of finance, we force hundreds of thousands of Americans into bankruptcy each year because of medical bills. As my mother, who had decent health insurance, was one of the ones forced into medical bankruptcy, I am very aware of how bad the current system is. She lost her home, her savings and is now in a nursing home (where she at least gets decent health care -- her health is so poor now that she actually needs to be in a nursing home) She would have been in the nursing home years sooner if not for children paying her rent for a few years. Yet, she is one of the luckier ones. She had family to help her out. However, with our children still children, and my siblings with young families of their own, we know we may not be as fortunate if something were to happen to one of us that our insurance wouldn’t cover. Seeing my mother’s medical bills, I know that our assets (home, 401k etc) would go pretty quick. Other countries don't have this problem, yet we seem to be afraid to follow their lead. Why? Are we so worried about losing the freedom to die on the street and impoverish our loved ones or is there something else at play? Who would really lose, financially, if the public option came into play?
The health insurance companies are the problem, not the government. A real public option would open up competition and hopefully help the average American - maybe it would stop the bleeding of higher costs for small businesses forced to drop unaffordable health care plans for their employees. The government wants to increase competition, which usually in a capitalist society results in lower prices. Of course the insurance companies arefearful of this as this will cut into their profits.
Of course, part of this is the Democrat’s fault. A 500-1,000 page bill no one can wrap his arms around leads to many opportunities for those for want to keep the status quo to jump in and scare the public by filling in the blanks with made up stories about “death panels.” The real facts of reform are far too complicated for most lay people to read and understand but instead of letting the members of Congress explain or answer questions, they’ve allowed some of the most mob-like, hateful, ignorant, and self-centered people who show up to cause disruption make any civil discussion impossible. Exercising your constitutional right of free speech, right to dissent, to criticize, and to lay before the government grievances should not mean censoring the other side, but that is what seems to have happened.
Worse, they have let the Republicans come up with all sorts of claims as they try to defend the status quo in their own town halls. With a woman crying that her husband needs more care than she can provide, such as a therapist, to help her husband recover, or at least live a better life, the Republican Senator replies, to applause, that she should ask the neighbors for help because the government of the people should never be the one to help. Nothing for nothing Senator, but as nice as my neighbors are, if I had a traumatic injury like that woman's husband, I'd like to have professionally trained people, like doctors or therapists, help me out. Yeah, the neighbors would be down for watching the kids while my wife drove me to a doctor but I don't think they'd be able to perform the actual surgery.
Or, a better example, there is no way my brother, sister or I could have provided our mother with the therapy she needed after her stroke, plus the pacemaker for her heart, without going to med school first. And, if it weren't for medicare she would be dead several years now as we were sure not in the position to pay for her care out of pocket. Good thing she was 68 and not 58 when she had the stroke that ultimately put her in a nursing home.
For those who are worried about how it will be paid for: repeal the Bush tax cuts, the super wealthy have had enough breaks this century. Yes, there will be tough decisions and compromises, but reform is long overdue, unless you make $800,000 a day. The big problem is no one thinks something catastrophic will happen to their health. And when it does, it is too late. We deserve whatever health system we get.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Monday, August 24, 2009
Our clunker was only worth $50 and a six-pack
Part of my commute to work takes me past several car dealerships. The last few weeks the front of some of these dealerships have wrecked clunkers with the message "worth $4500" spray painted on them. With the cash for clunkers program ending today, that will end soon. Yet, as I see these clunkers during my drive, I think almost all of them look better than the clunker my mother used to drive in NYC.
In 1982 my mother was still driving around a rusting white 1965 Oldsmobile f85 sedan, which we had owned since 1970 when my mother's 1965 Ford Falcon got rear ended by a UPS truck on the Long Island Expressway. This car was the second family car, used primarily to drive my mother to whatever school she was teaching in and to haul us kids around Queens. It was almost always parked on the street as if my parents were embarrassed for that thing to be seen in our parking spot. Though it always felt like a bomb, by the end of it's run it was true clunker.
Unlike my dad's car, which we children couldn't even eat in, my mother's was a rolling mess full of food wrappers and discarded small toys. It had a certain mildew smell, probably due to thetrunk that was stuck closed and full of water. My mother refused to get the car washed because she was afraid the car would fall apart in a car wash. Duct tape held the rear window in and bumper stickers covered rusted holes in the body and probably improved the car's structural integrity. If you picked up the floor mats you would see the street. You knew to be careful if you had to sit in the backseat behind the driver, and not just because that door no longer opened, unless you wanted atetanus shot. Some days the car would start, other days it wouldn't. One day she went to signal a turn and her blinker fell off the steering wheel. Friends of us kids chose to walk over possibly riding in our bomb. At least the radio worked. And the air conditioning worked too, as long as you could roll down the windows (the car never had AC).
That car was a bomb by the late 1970s. However, those 1960s cars didn't go quietly into the junkyard. One day, my mother lost her brakes in the Midtown tunnel and slammed into a truck. Instead of being wrecked, the car still ran. The only body damage was a big dent in the fender. The only reason the car was in the shop for a week was because the mechanic had to wait for a new brake cylinder.
By the end, the car was slowly being stripped for parts on the street; one day the mirror was gone, another day a headlight. My parents got $50 for it when they "traded" it in for another used car. But even then the car did not go quietly to its grave. A few days before the trade in a neighbor rang our bell and asked my dad if any of us kids were in the car, partying and drinking beer. You see, the lock for the vent window had broken a while back and the car could easily be opened by popping the window and reaching in to grab the handle. My dad looked around, saw all of us and went with a bat to confront the intruders and make sure they didn't do anything that would cause us to get less than $50. As soon as the kids saw my dad approaching, they flew out of the car, even getting the door that wouldn't open to open. So, unlike today's $4500 rebate, my parents ended up with $50 and a six pack of beer for our clunker.
In 1982 my mother was still driving around a rusting white 1965 Oldsmobile f85 sedan, which we had owned since 1970 when my mother's 1965 Ford Falcon got rear ended by a UPS truck on the Long Island Expressway. This car was the second family car, used primarily to drive my mother to whatever school she was teaching in and to haul us kids around Queens. It was almost always parked on the street as if my parents were embarrassed for that thing to be seen in our parking spot. Though it always felt like a bomb, by the end of it's run it was true clunker.
Unlike my dad's car, which we children couldn't even eat in, my mother's was a rolling mess full of food wrappers and discarded small toys. It had a certain mildew smell, probably due to thetrunk that was stuck closed and full of water. My mother refused to get the car washed because she was afraid the car would fall apart in a car wash. Duct tape held the rear window in and bumper stickers covered rusted holes in the body and probably improved the car's structural integrity. If you picked up the floor mats you would see the street. You knew to be careful if you had to sit in the backseat behind the driver, and not just because that door no longer opened, unless you wanted atetanus shot. Some days the car would start, other days it wouldn't. One day she went to signal a turn and her blinker fell off the steering wheel. Friends of us kids chose to walk over possibly riding in our bomb. At least the radio worked. And the air conditioning worked too, as long as you could roll down the windows (the car never had AC).
That car was a bomb by the late 1970s. However, those 1960s cars didn't go quietly into the junkyard. One day, my mother lost her brakes in the Midtown tunnel and slammed into a truck. Instead of being wrecked, the car still ran. The only body damage was a big dent in the fender. The only reason the car was in the shop for a week was because the mechanic had to wait for a new brake cylinder.
By the end, the car was slowly being stripped for parts on the street; one day the mirror was gone, another day a headlight. My parents got $50 for it when they "traded" it in for another used car. But even then the car did not go quietly to its grave. A few days before the trade in a neighbor rang our bell and asked my dad if any of us kids were in the car, partying and drinking beer. You see, the lock for the vent window had broken a while back and the car could easily be opened by popping the window and reaching in to grab the handle. My dad looked around, saw all of us and went with a bat to confront the intruders and make sure they didn't do anything that would cause us to get less than $50. As soon as the kids saw my dad approaching, they flew out of the car, even getting the door that wouldn't open to open. So, unlike today's $4500 rebate, my parents ended up with $50 and a six pack of beer for our clunker.
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