CHRONIC TONIC posts on Thursdays at 9 EST, it is a place to share stories, advice, and information and to connect with others with chronic health conditions and those who care for them. Our diarists will report on research, alternative treatments, clinical trials, and health insurance issues through personal stories. You are invited to share in comments (and note if you'd like to be a future diarist). In addition to our weekly diaries, please join us for ongoing conversations at the Kossacks Networking site.
Tonight's diarist is andsarahtoo.
So we’ve got it—health care reform. It’s not the public option that we’d hoped for, and it’s certainly not single payer… but here we are, guaranteed that we can get insurance even with our preexisting conditions, assured that our older folks can afford their medications and that our young adults can remain on our plans until they (please God) find jobs. The insurance companies that have cheerfully watched their customers die as they dropped the sick from their rolls and posted record profits will have to spend most of our premium dollars taking care of us, and all—all—of our children will be covered and have access to care. It’s a thing I never thought I would see in my lifetime, and it impacts me personally—I will be able to move forward in my life knowing I can get my own insurance rather than remaining stuck in the limbo I’ve been in for the last three years. It’s a great thing for America, a great thing for me—but that’s not what I’m here to talk about tonight.
Now, in the aftermath, my friends, my companions in sickness and suffering—how do you feel?
Everybody get through this one OK?
I ask because I’m not sure I’m ever going to look at the people around me quite the same.
I have watched as right wing activists have populated the progressive twitter feeds with messages of hate. I have listened as people have bemoaned the “nationalization” of such a large part of the economy, bewailed the “free ride” that we “freeloaders” are allegedly going to receive, and argued that we have started down a slippery slope that can only end in goosestepping on Grandma’s premature grave. And as the joy of the moment that the bill passed the House was polluted by the screams of “Repeal” from stage right, I found myself growing increasingly angry—in fact, I believe that’s as close as I get to hatred. What part of this is so wrong, I wonder that people are telling their representatives that they need to “watch their backs” and firing guns through the windows of political offices? Is it making sure that children and sick people have access to health care? Is it asking that insurance companies spend the money we give them to honor their contracts with us? Do I need to die to make Republicans happy? Do you?
Do you feel like you do, after listening to Boehner’s lies, Wilson’s shouts, Bachmann’s insanity?
There were moments during the last week that I sat down and cried—not because I was scared that it wouldn’t pass, but because I could not believe that I live in a country where taking care of the young, the old, the poor, and the infirm is cause for the kind of vitriol I have seen. I’ve been open about my illness—do the people around me, my neighbors and acquaintances, really want me to die quickly? After what I’ve seen, I have to wonder. And frankly, it’s messed me up.
So how about you. Tonight, I’d like to talk about what this process has meant to us and how we feel about it.
Is everybody OK?
April 1 -- plf515
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