It's going to come as no shock that the young man featured in the attached photograph is, in fact, my son. Cute, right? I'll take it as read that you think so too, so as not to put any of us in an awkward position.
He's a nice person, he's got a sunny disposition. He's not one of those surly teens. He walks around with a ready smile, has very good manners, and aside from the fact that his room looks like London after the Blitz on a very regular basis, he's a good egg. He worried that he was hurting every fish he caught last month, on his fishing trip with my husband. He ended up taking one of his cooked catches over to the campsite of a high school science teacher, there with his AP class in tow, as thanks for the opportunity to look through the high powered telescope the group had. He starts college next week, actually. Here's hoping that goes well, right?
The other thing about my son is that for the rest of his life he's going to have a preexisting condition. You've probably been taught to fear the name of it, and to associate it with spiraling health care costs, as well as suspect lifestyle choices. When the blame game gets going, it's always brought up. My son is a diabetic. A Type 1 diabetic and he is insulin dependent. There is a lot of forward motion in research but for right now he has a lifelong condition. He didn't do anything to earn it. In fact, the cause of Type 1 diabetes isn't easily pigeon-holed. There is no genetic link in our family. It might have been an injury that caused his pancreas to fail, or it might have been a virus. It could have been a recessive gene, truthfully, we don't know how it happened. He started insulin in December 2008, so he's actually quite lucky, he started dealing with this when he was old enough to understand it.
I hesitated to bring this up because I thought that as soon as people understood that I might have personal reasons for my stand on health care, it might be easy to dismiss my opinions because one might think they were based on my feelings, first and foremost. Truthfully, we all make up our minds based on our feelings, at different times. Certainly there are instances where detachment rules the day, and the rule of law is put into play, but for the most part, we believe what we believe about any given issue based on our feelings. What feels right to us, what feels important. We do not approach life dispassionately, nor should we.
I've never had a problem with our health care insurance. I didn't spend hours on the phone with them when my son was diagnosed. We were lucky, our insurance company didn't try to drop him, or question his treatment. My son goes to one of the best Diabetes research centers in the United States, the Barbara Davis Center.
I've been a supporter of establishing universal health care since Bill Clinton took a run at it in the 1990s. My support is not born of the fact that my son is one of the people who needs to have health care available to him at all times. That's just one of the things that happened in between then and now. Aside from that, simply because we know that my son needs to have health care available at all times, that doesn't make him any different from any of the rest of us. We all need to have available health care. It's life and death for all of us, not just the smiling fisherman up there.
We're fortunate people, the expense of his diabetes hasn't been something that has preyed on our minds. We're very grateful that it hasn't been a determining factor in anything having to do with his treatment.
At present in the United States a debate rages about what kind of obligation we have to our citizens. Is it worth paying for public health? Are there benefits? Is there a moral imperative? Will we change the essential nature of our country if we take steps to have a public health care option?
For me there are some personal reasons at play in why I so adamantly support the need for universal health care. At least there are now. I had no way of anticipating that there would be.
We need to structure a system that is financially feasible, but the need for the system to be in place isn't about the fact that my son has diabetes. It's about the fact that all of us need to have access to health care. It is a basic obscenity of our society that I sit here and type out the words, with gratitude mind you, that our health care insurance didn't raise a stink about keeping my son alive.
Health should not be a privilege of wealth, but it is at present in our country. Is that equality?
We don't attach a mental picture to those that need health care, but fail to have it. At present my son is covered, but what happens when he is no longer a full time student and is no longer eligible to be carried on our health insurance? When he walks around with his lifelong condition, termed preexisting, will the capricious insurance industry decide that he is not financially feasible and refuse him?
They shouldn't have the right, yet they do. The thing is, I'm really not talking about my son. I'm talking about everyone because there is no way for any of us to know what will happen between now and then.
I know I'm pounding a drum here, but as I watch footage of people sobbing their way through Town Hall Meetings, screaming that their country has changed in some fundamental manner, I'm struck by the fact that people are paralyzed with fear, yet they are fearing the wrong thing.
We fear change, but what is really frightening is the concept that things will remain the same as they are now.
Clearly the affable young man pictured here is not the enemy. If you're going to fear him, you might as well fear Care Bears. In fact, in this situation no one is the enemy. We, as citizens of the United States, are guaranteed certain rights.
I'm not talking about my son when I say that health as a privilege of wealth must end as a way of life. I'm talking about me, you, all of us.
When did we become comfortable with an insurance company being the masters of our fate? To my mind, that is a lot more frightening than change. We are at the whim of an industry that views us not as people, with guaranteed rights and worth simply in our being, but as profit margins.
An industry in which we have no say.
Yet people are frightened by the concept of government being involved in health care. The government, in which we always have a say.
14 comments:
Strong post Shimp. Sorry to learn that your lad has this worrying disease.
Great care is needed of course as failure to control properly can lead to serious, sometimes fatal, situations.
There was a touching report on the tv news recently where a two-year-old girl (yes, 2-year-old ) little girl saved her mummy's life by phoning for help when her diabetic mum was "asleep" on the floor. She got the help she needed quickly; saved her mum's life.
As you know, in the UK we have the NHS (National Health Service) which has been in force since around the mid-1940s, after the war.
Frequently maligned because of money shortages etc., but that is just the Brit's was: always complaining about the weather, life in general and the NHS.
It has twice saved my bacon. Once for a severe asthma attack and more recently with a bit of a heart problem. So I have always found the NHS a great system.
Private medical insurance is also alive and well, and, for those who wish to 'jump the queue' one can 'go private' for certain treatments. This is one of the biggest gripes in the UK. One can wait your turn for operations and suchlike on the NHS or, if you are able to 'go private' you can get sorted within a week or so.
Still, in general, I think that by paying 'National Insurance' as a form of tax is a better idea than the system in the USA.
Kind regards, Phil
Your son is really "cute!" And he just looks like a nice person. Sorry about his "pre-existing condition" Thank goodness for all the advances in the last few years for diabetes treatment. I think people are afraid because they sense they will lose what little control they still have over their health decisions now. I have 2-1/2 years left to pay my private insurance premium which is barely covered by my social security check which I just started to receive. Good thing we planned our retirement, even though we lost a bunch when the market went south. Another reason why people are afraid. My husband is working part-time because of this loss, but thankfully, he really enjoys it and it gets him out of my hair two days a week.
"Truthfully, we all make up our minds based on our feelings, at different times. Certainly there are instances where detachment rules the day, and the rule of law is put into play, but for the most part, we believe what we believe about any given issue based on our feelings. What feels right to us, what feels important. We do not approach life dispassionately, nor should we."
I agree that feelings do play a part, but so does experience, both good and bad. The values we teach our children (your son looks like a good example btw)are values we hold dear - do they change over the years? Maybe there'll be some adjustments, but essentially our value system is set at a fairly young age.
Off topic, but your response to me yesterday again provoked much thought and some good discussion with my husband. The blogosphere is a great forum to discuss ideas. Do you think that the anonymity of the internet affords a safety net, or paradoxically, sometimes I feel it's sooo public - who knows who might be reading your thoughts, ideas, and dare I say, feelings?
Philip, thank you :-) I know the NHS has its own share of problems, my grandmother lives in Scotland, and my mother lives there six months out of every year also, but I think it is very important that it exists. Even if it doesn't fulfill every need perfectly, it does provide a much stronger base than our system does.
I'm personally glad it has saved you on a couple of occasions! It also seems to provide something that we, here in the U.S., really discount since we haven't ever really experienced it: Allowing your actual health to be the main concern for the patient.
When you had a problem with your heart, getting that treated was hopefully the first thing on your mind. A couple of years ago I read a study that in the U.S. when someone is diagnosed with a problem, their first worry tends to be about their job, not their state of well-being (or lack thereof).
Having the NHS at your back, as a known quantity, even with its troubles, creates a different psychological approach to illness (according to this study), and I personally think it is a much healthier one in every sense of the word.
I don't think any system can be perfect, but our current system, based so much on profit and not on overall care, is flawed beyond the telling of it.
We need to take steps to start one that will probably take quite a long time to iron out, but that has actual providing of care at its center.
Funnily enough I recently read a novel based in England in the 1940s called The Little Stranger, and the narrator is a doctor at the time when the NHS is being implemented. The books is a ghost story, to an extent, but it also clearly isn't. That's the framework for an examination of the sort of death of the landed gentry within England.
It's not an incredibly well done book but it is interesting, the author (Susan Waters, I think, I'm sorry I don't have the book handy) sets out to do something very ambitious, and succeeds for the most part. It's far too on-the-nose in the parallels it draws on occasion.
I just thought I'd mention it to you, because of your stories of Mellerstain. The book might be of interest to you. It is a difficult book to categorize because the ghost story element is a very small part, and in fact is something other than it appears for most of the book. Mostly it is a book about class division, and the fate of a large estate in a country trying to make life a more equal opportunity.
Heh. What a dreadful description, it makes the book sound ridiculously dry.
Amy, since I'm complete stranger to brevity, I'm going to reply to you in a separate comment :-)
As I prepare to hit send, I think this might have to be broken into two parts, yikes. If brevity is the soul of wit, I'm the definition of a dullard.
Thank you for the kind words about my son, Amy. He really is a nice person. I'm very fortunate in that I like him as much as I love him.
Good thing we planned our retirement, even though we lost a bunch when the market went south. Another reason why people are afraid. My husband is working part-time because of this loss, but thankfully, he really enjoys it and it gets him out of my hair two days a week.
That story is often heard, but it is always difficult to read. People who planned, and were careful still had things happen in the economic climate that derailed their retirement. I'm sorry that happened, although I'm glad your husband enjoys working part-time. I just wish, for both of your sakes and all the people in the same position, that it had been about active choice, rather than necessity.
Maybe there'll be some adjustments, but essentially our value system is set at a fairly young age.
That's true. There are even studies that suggest that a person's character is set by the age of five. There was a famous British documentary series called 7 Up! (then 14 Up!) etc. by Michael Aptow that explored that, checking in with a group of Brits every seven years throughout the course of their lives well into their forties. It was initially meant to be an examination of socioeconomic factors determining a life path, but it became something more than that.
The things is, for me at least, there is at least one area I can point to (although there are more, for me )where my stance has changed radically based on specifically that concept, yet I've pulled a complete turnaround. In my twenties, I think I felt the need to have very firm opinions, I felt that if I didn't believe something adamantly, then it wasn't worth much. Courage of my convictions, and all that. In reality it was just based on not having a particularly secure life (goes to the feeling of loss of control dictating fear in your earlier point, I agree). I became much more flexible in my thinking. I also became a lot more comfortable with being wrong. Being right used to feel more like an overall life assessment, instead of attached to only one subject at a time.
Anyway, what I'm referring to specifically is my stance on the death penalty. At twenty-five I supported the death penalty. By the time I was thirty, I no longer did, for a variety of reason (it's costly, and there have been cases where people later exonerated have been executed), but by the time I reached forty, the reason I remained anti-death penalty had evolved into related to what you're talking about, something I knew to be wrong as a child: It's wrong to kill anyone, how can we hope to evolve as a society when we still put people to death? That sort of thing.
For me, that was a case of setting aside my emotional response to certain cases, and adhering to a more detached way of thinking. Certainly there are crimes where I can't help but think, "Heinous! That person is thoroughly reprehensible, and we need to hit the delete button!" but whereas that's what some of my emotions dictate, the cooler reasoning, says something different. But it isn't about what I was taught to be right and wrong ruling, not really.
When I was younger, I tended more towards "Heart first, logic...um...somewhere in the mix!" and now I tend to be a little bit more prone to cooler thinking...but still, even on the death penalty? There is an element of my feelings on the matter changing. Part of what allows me to have a different approach is that mercy/compassion became more important to me than vengeance/retribution. Both are feelings, at the root of it.
I could point out areas that I was taught to be wrong, that as an adult, I no longer agree with at all. Perhaps that's basic character at play, nature vs. nurture. I don't know.
It's probably very different for different people (hehe, as would make sense) but there is an emotional/feeling element in nearly all I support. As a more hot-headed, younger woman, my feelings of "Get him!" dictated one thing, as an older person, it was my feeling of, "Spare him!" that began to take over.
The absolutely bizarre, paradoxical element is that throughout the course of my life, I've been one of the less emotional women I know. I drive my friends nuts because if they tell me their troubles, I tend to try and "fix" them. "Have you tried this? What about that?" which is a response typically attributed to men.
Jeez, I'm long winded on this, I apologize. Unfortunately, that is going to continue because the question you raised is a fascinating one, I think (and thank you for it, by the way, it's such fun to think about things in-depth).
Do you think that the anonymity of the internet affords a safety net, or paradoxically, sometimes I feel it's sooo public - who knows who might be reading your thoughts, ideas, and dare I say, feelings?
You know, that is a really interesting thing. I think that the points you raise are part of the equation, but not the whole. Certainly the anonymity of the internet can lend itself to fuller expression. If I ask your opinion on something, and you tell me it, you don't have to couch it in terms that are based partially on "and I work with this person, I disagree with her, but I have to see her everyday". On the internet, it's like we can distill our opinions, we don't temper them as much.
We also don't get shouted down by a red-faced fellow, with one too many brews under his belt, as we might in a social setting. We can develop our thoughts more fully, and share them.
Also, in our interactions in life, we actually care how Beth's tennis lessons are going, so there are multiple focuses.
But mainly I think that part of lure is the equalizing factor. I'll tell you honestly I'm sitting here in a ridiculous outfit, t-shirt, PJ bottoms with cartoon Scotties on them. If we were having this discussion in person, that would play a part in it. The only reason it does here is that I just mentioned it. "Hey, during this reasonably weighty conversation, I'm dressed like a goof!"
We can't judge each other on the surface things that come into play in every other walk of life. In internet discussions it very seldom matters what kind of house you live in, or car you drive, when you offer your opinion. Your opinion, your words, are judged by a different standard. As we discuss something, it doesn't matter if either of us is stunningly attractive, or painfully plain, what matters is the ability to fully express a view based mostly on the ability to make deft use of language. That's what tends to rule the day on the internet.
On the internet, it's a good thing. In life, it can intimidate the crap out of the person with whom we are having a discussion.
The internet offers a different playing field, perhaps not a more equal one, but one with a different set of criteria.
I read Jo's blog for months before I ever signed up on Google, so there's something in that too. It wasn't just about having my say, it was about finding like-minded people, giving me a more comforting view of the world, frankly.
She was discussing art, music, people, thoughts, all things that are so attractive to me. Even before I jumped in (with both feet, as tends to be my MO when I do get going), it was a daily balm to see that someone out there loved paintings as much as I did.
My son was a Lacrosse goalie, and I'd go to his games. I had many discussions about how this and that was going, but you know what never got brought up? Artwork. I'd have stuck out like I had two heads if I brought it up in that setting, but I could come home, jump on the internet and find discussions of things I loved.
Participating is a lot of fun, but there was a sense of ...rightness, perhaps, in knowing that the discussions existed, at all, here in our modern world.
Kind of like this health care thing. Turn on the news and you'll see people almost deranged by fear and if that was the only thing I was seeing about the discussion of health care, heck, I might be scared witless too. Instead, I get to temper that with reading the views, from both sides, well thought out.
I think there is more complexity to it than, "It is the internet, and here I can say anything! Woot!" It's oddly layered. Yes, there is the relief of having ones say in full without fear of repercussion, but there's more to it than that.
What do you think? Please feel free to add your views. I'm truly interested.
(If that wasn't apparent from how LONG I went on -- this will come as no shock, in life, I am not an editor)
Your son is gorgeous. What a beautiful smile...!
You know, one of the things I have been hearing about in the debates in your country is so-called "death panels", as if someone will decide who lives or dies. But in essence, you have that now with your insurance companies. They make all sorts of decisions that they should not be making. In Canada, those decisions are up to the doctors only -- no one else, including the government. All the government does is pay the doctors -- that's it. The government does not tell the doctors how to treat a patient, or make decisions about so-called pre-existing conditions. In fact, that issue is not even on the table here.
So, I don't understand why Americans are so afraid of nationalized health care. It boggles my mind.
Incidentally, insulin for diabetes was discovered in Canada by two Nobel prize winning Canadian doctors, Frederick Banting and Charles Best.
Thank you, Jo. I think he's a handsome guy, I admit. He's got an incredibly genuine smile, and he's had a lot of practice at it.
Incidentally, insulin for diabetes was discovered in Canada by two Nobel prize winning Canadian doctors, Frederick Banting and Charles Best.
I actually did know that, but thank you for pointing it out. The way I found it out is sort of odd, and fun.
As a Canadian I'm sure you're familiar with Lucy Maud Montgomery, she wrote very sweet, and often funny books. Well, a few years ago I was told that she also kept extensive journals throughout the course of her life. Although I'm not the biggest fan of her fiction, although I remain very fond of it, I set out to read her journals, there are several volumes, by the way.
It was just a way to get to know a very intelligent, successful woman, living in a time period that interested me.
She was also understandably proud of being a Canadian, and through her journals I learned about several well known Canadian authors of the time, as well as advancements made by Canadian scientists (side note: Montgomery intended her journals for eventual publication).
So I actually got to read about the advancement of insulin treatment basically as it happened! It was quite fun, and informative.
Shimp: The Little Stranger is a fairly recent book by Sarah Waters; earlier she wrote The Night Watch, which I have been intending to buy for some time as it is about the war and its aftermath. I love reading of that period, having been there - but still not bought the tee-shirt!
Sarah Waters wrote "Tipping the Velvet" which was made into a tv drama a couple of year ago. Similarly, her "Fingersmith" was dramatised on BBC tv. Both these were kind of 'adult' so to speak.
I'm still waiting delivery of two books by Brian Thompson: "Clever Girl" and his earlier one, "Keeping Mum". Both are said to be biographical and about life in the war.
Thanks for your response. You are always so interesting.
Phil
You write really well! Ever considered professional writing?
Oh my gosh, I thought you were "land of shrimp" - now I have to look up the word "shimp." That is too weird! I didn't discover your last comment until just a few minutes ago. You describe the allure of "surfing" beautifully - for me, it's like opening a package, but not a gift, necessarily. Curiosity is alive and well and the yearning to keep on learning is strong even now that I'm in my 7th decade - that in itself is a shocker. Plus, so many bloggers are just plain entertaining. Sometimes I wonder how many hours some of them must spend answering so many comments. For me it's not the number, but the quality that counts. I, too, lurked on Jo's blog for months before I could gather the courage to "jump in." Back in March I joined an online Artist's Way group - almost all of the 10 to 15 people who participated in the 12 week course were writers, women writers, actually women writers from UK; so the back and forth was articulate, sensitive, inspiring, and SAFE. I gained more confidence and found my "voice." Now I look at this blog thing as a writing exercise; believe it or not, I try to be concise, editing the unnecessary words in my posts. But I do love words and I like learning new ones, like shimp - help! I'm still baffled....
Philip, it's funny, I had the feeling you might be familiar with Waters! I'm sorry about misremembering her first name. She has an interesting style, and I'm still of two minds about whether or not to seek out any of her other books.
On the one hand, I read the book very quickly. Clearly it was engaging. On the other hand, the resolution, which just about anyone would figure out and by the author's design, lacks a sense of satisfaction. The story is emotionally muddled, and that's likely purposeful also.
It must be fascinating to read later treatments of a time period of which you have personal experience. Seeing what authors get right, or wrong, and seeing the rather slippery quality of trying to define the mindset of any particular period.
Thank you, Merlin! What a kind thing to say, and I really appreciate it. I'm not a professional writer, and I've clearly got a problem with concise development of ideas (heh, to put it mildly).
Amy, never fear! You haven't missed a word out there in the lexicon of life. Shimp is just my nickname. I think I really need to set up a profile to clear that up. It's not a particularly interesting story, it was just a bunch of friends goofing around with words, specifically the word "imp" that led to it.
Curiosity is alive and well and the yearning to keep on learning is strong even now that I'm in my 7th decade - that in itself is a shocker.
I think that's one of the best things about the internet. It has shattered the concept of age, in any direction, being definitive of the ability to communicate fully in an exchange of ideas. The perception that we, as people, have the most in common with people in our direct age group has some validity, but it isn't the whole of the matter. I've got friends on the internet although the way from people in their twenties to people in their seventies.
If you put us all together in a room it might provide an odd visual, "What does these people have to say to each other?!?" It turns out, a great deal.
Back in March I joined an online Artist's Way group - almost all of the 10 to 15 people who participated in the 12 week course were writers, women writers, actually women writers from UK; so the back and forth was articulate, sensitive, inspiring, and SAFE. I gained more confidence and found my "voice."
I think that's one of great revelations of the internet. Absolutely, it can be a hairy sort of place, depending on where you go in it, but we get to choose where we go and instead of being this faceless threat, it turns out that a lot of boundaries we perceive, are just that, perceptions.
A few clicks, some time reading, and we can find out more about life across the world. What a gift.
Your son looks really sweet. May God bless him with lots of health. And yes, - a health system based on profit not on care is very problematic.
Hello:) Your son is handsome indeed. And I can understand your concern about the health care system in the US. It is really inconceivable that an insurance company has the final say and not the physician who knows the patient and the ailment better than anyone. It is a mockery of the medical profession, actually!
There will be resistance- HUGE resistance- to Obamas planned health care reforms. Do you think the insurance companies, who have certainly become millionaires at the expense of the common man, will give up it's position of power so easily? Not by a long shot.
But I do hope Obama gets enough mandate and support to go through with the reforms because it is indeed a shame that in todays America some people cannot afford to go to the doctor because they do not have a medical insurance.
Excellent post, by the way. Keep them coming:)
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