The refrain from that old Simon & Garfunkle song often plays in my brain when I've thought about politics over the past 8 years, or so. At first, my fears for my son were driven by concerns that our involvement in seemingly endless war might force a draft. My father-in-law was a Marine during World War II and that experience broke him in many ways. It wasn't something I wanted my son to go through, unless it was his choice. Maybe those fears were unrealistic, but they were my fears none-the-less.
As I became confident that Barack Obama would become president, I no longer heard that song in my head but after September 3, 2008 I didn't have to worry about my son being drafted anymore, or even what I would do if he decided to enlist. My son was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes (what used to be called Juvenile Diabetes). That day, my fears turned to the much more realistic concerns regarding how my young adult son would react to having a crash course in managing his health and navigating the health care system (he was away at school) and how he would be able to obtain insurance once he was no longer my dependent.
More after the jump...
My son is studying to be an architect. He wants to design sustainable public spaces. He's the kind of person who will do well on his own or in a small firm. He is not insurable via individual health insurance policies and his being on a small business plan will make it costly for him to be employed by a small firm. I looked into the Illinois plan that provides insurance for those with pre-existing conditions and figured his first year out-of-pocket costs (including premiums) would be not much less than his first year starting salary is likely to be. He talks of moving to Canada where, apparently, his training in sustainable construction methods is a desired skill (taking his word for it, don't have the heart to look into it myself).
This week has been so disheartening. I wish the house would pass the Senate plan and use reconciliation to fix it. My son's life depends on his access to insulin and emergency care when he gets something as simple as the stomach flu. This week, once again, I hear Simon & Garfunkle filling up the idle times in my brain...Save the Life of My Child, Cried the Desparate Mother...