Two weeks ago I worked in a hospital. Seeing those sick patients was an Office Space moment for me. I've only got one life, and I spend it sitting at a desk and living in a place that is cold half the year.
This past week I lived in a hostel in Hawaii and swam with an endangered monk seal. I love hostel life. I love the feeling of having few possessions and a borrowed bed and living practically outdoors (while enjoying the conveniences of modern plumbing).
What could stop me from quitting my job, moving to Hawaii, and living in a hostel? Then I remembered what: health insurance.
I gleaned a bit of insight into the history of our healthcare system today from a doctor. If you've ever wondered how the hell we got this f'ed up, keep readin'.
Beyond the flip: Details on my trip to Hawaii (the fun half) incl some encounters with endangered species in the wild, existentialism, and some talk of politics regarding bankruptcy laws, universal single payor health insurance, and social security.
I am in the middle of a quarterlife crisis.
If you want to read about my first week in Hawaii (working in the hospital), it is here.
They call Kauai the Garden Isle. It was my archetypal garden. I flew there after my last shift in the hospital and checked into my hostel.
The island is surrounded by beaches, each more perfect than the next. In some beaches you can snorkel; in some you can swim; in others the waves are too high for either but you can go there to watch the power of the ocean and run on the beach and search the horizon for whales.
Fruit grows abundantly on Kauai. Someone told me papaya trees grow like weeds. There are farmers markets every day of the week as well as fruit stands by the side of the road (the only road - there is one, and it doesn't even go all the way around the island). When you peel a Kauai grown tangerine, the juice drips through your fingers. Roosters and hens roam everywhere (there are no predators unless you count people) and they crow all day long.
I love hostels too. At home, I am alone inside four walls with a temperature controlled by a thermostat and my choice of silence or Air America. I have so many possessions in my apartment, and how much do I need? In the hostel I am surrounded by a community of people that changes daily. I fall asleep to the sounds of the island and the ocean breeze blowing across my skin. My possessions fit in a small bag. Nothing is locked up. In fact, on Kauai you can even hitchhike. No alarm clocks, no watches - not even a camera. I don't have pictures because I was usually either under water or covered in mud, having fun. If I believed in Adam and Eve, I would believe they lived on Kauai. I've been to Israel and the Garden of Eden ain't there.
If you want to skip to the politics, I'll put headers on the sections so you can do so.
My Trip
I arrived on a Wednesday night and I was offered pot almost immediately. Maui Wowie may sound appealing but I refused for a number of reasons not worth going into here (I do believe the stuff should be legal).
First thing Thursday morning, I began talking to a woman in my dorm named Solea. She mentioned her clothes were made from organic hemp... just one more reason I love hostels. Someone who wears organic hemp is someone I'd like to get to know. Within the next few minutes she mentioned that her house is entirely off-the-grid and she was going to Hanalei and would I like to join her. So off we went.
We stopped at a roadside stand for fruit, at a supermarket for gallons of water (we each brought water bottles to refill during our trips), and continued up to Hanalei to a natural foods store she had heard of named Papayas. I had searched for online for a natural foods store on Kauai before leaving without any luck so I was THRILLED to find it and I ran around grabbing too much food and then had to put some of it back.
From there we went to two different beaches and ran in the waves and laid out on the beach at each. That night, we went to a vegan restaurant near the hostel (http://www.veganfusion.com) and split ice cream and fudge. The menu lists the fudge as "The entirety of heaven compressed and manifested as dessert."
Friday morning, we got up and Solea showed me a juice bar which was actually owned by the same vegan restaurant. I got the best smoothie I have ever had (papaya, banana, date, mac nuts, hemp milk, coconut milk, and vanilla) for breakfast and got a mini pizza and a tuna-free tempeh salad wrap to go.
I had reserved a rental car for 2 days of the trip so I picked it up and then drove south alone to a snorkeling beach. I snorkeled and ran a bit on the beach. There was a monk seal sunning him or herself on the beach (in a roped off area that said please leave the endangered monk seal alone) and I hung out by the seal for a bit too. Then I drove around more of the island, saw a beautiful sunset, and drove back to the hostel.
Saturday was my big day on Kauai. I had reserved a beginner SCUBA two-tank dive. I started my day at the juice bar and then drove with a Tunisian man who lives in the US and a Canadian guy to another snorkeling beach. At lunchtime we split up and I drove to the dive shop for SCUBA.
On the first dive, we saw a lot of fish, a snake eel, coral, sand, rocks, and a sea turtle. The turtle was what gave me my money's worth. Sea turtles are endangered and on a previous trip to Hawaii I looked and looked while snorkeling and never saw one.
I expected the second dive to be more of the same, maybe without the turtle, so I was VERY surprised at what happened. Once underwater, my mask was foggy and I swam around sort of seeing fish through a cloud of fog. I figured out a trick to de-fog my mask and I was fidgeting with it when the guide I was with started hitting my arm and pointing at a five-foot-long white tip reef shark. We started swimming towards the shark. Then he started hitting my arm again and pointed in the other direction. All this happened in a matter of seconds. To my left was a monk seal.
Monk seals live on Kauai and the NW Hawaiian islands (many of which are uninhabited by people). I read they estimate that Kauai has only 16-30 of them and up to 8 have been sited on the island in a day. Here we were swimming with one! We watched for about 20 minutes as a Discovery Channel style underwater battle played out between the seal and a moray eel he or she was trying to catch, kill, and eat (the seal won).
Before the dive was over, we saw one more turtle, which was just like gravy at that point. Afterwards the guide said I was so lucky he wanted to take me to Vegas. He said it was the best dive he'd ever done at that site (which was the SCUBA equivalent of the baby pool). I had to go back with him to the dive shop to corroborate the story. He said it was so cool if he went alone no one would believe him :)
Sunday I met Solea for a champagne brunch at the vegan restaurant. After that it was lots of reading, and lots of naps and sleeping in. Sunday a guy cooked a gourmet dinner for everyone at the hostel. After all of the activity and the vegan food (and no desk, typing, or staring at computer monitors or fluorescant lights), my body was feeling better than ever in just about every way possible. I don't adhere to a vegan diet at home but I felt so good maybe I should.
Monday Solea and I met early and we did the first 2 miles of the Kalalau Trail. Remember how I said before that the road ends? There are 11 unpaved, undeveloped miles of coastline called the Na Pali coast that are a tourist mecca for hiking and camping. Many people do just the first 4 miles. The first two miles go from Ke'e beach (my favorite beach on the island for swimming and snorkeling) to Hanakapiai Beach, which is a very serene rock beach that is too dangerous to swim in. The second two miles go from Hanakapiai Beach to Hanakapiai Falls. Solea and I did the first 2 miles there and back only.
It's not an easy hike. It's four punishing miles of up and down hill in the mud. And Kauai has special mud that doesn't come out of your clothes. I can say that authoritatively now because I HAVE TRIED. When you fall in the mud, consider your clothes "a souvenir." Just before the beach, you have to walk thigh-deep through a river. But the beach was worth it. You feel like you've reached a secret spot untouched by people. A cardinal was flitting from rock to rock. Some rocks are piled up as evidence of people who reached the beach before you. The waves crash powerfully, making the rocks smooth. We sat there and ate our lunches and hiked the two miles back to the car.
The next day, I had one last breakfast at the juice bar and one last lunch at the restaurant, boarded the plane, and left.
My Quarterlife Crisis
My second day, when I had driven around the island, I was about as close as one can get to the westernmost point in the U.S. I felt like I was at the end of the world.
I called a friend back home and said "You were right! People weren't meant to sit at a desk from 9 to 5. They weren't meant to stare at a computer all day long."
"Are those waves I hear?" he said.
For months, this friend had been trying to get away from the 9 to 5 ratrace and I had been stoically replying with my father's thoughts on life: All jobs are going to have some degree of bullshit, so you find one that you can handle, one with the best total package of bullshit, salary, benefits, and at least doing something you can stand for 8 hours a day, and you do it. And there's no point in complaining, because how else can you achieve stability in life? How else can you buy a house and pay off your mortgage before retirement? How else can you obtain medical and dental care? How else do you save for retirement?
I was wrong.
I go to work and stress about minute details as if they are important. That monk seal was important. Those sea turtles were important. At work a project I am on - I swear to gawd - requires slides in every PowerPoint stating our project goals and guiding principles. If you are two months into the project and you need a PowerPoint slide to remind you of the goals, you probably aren't qualified to be on the project to begin with. These are TPS report covers. Lumberg exists and he works at every company in America.
I do this so I can spend a few precious weeks a year doing what I really consider living. Hiking on a tropical island or in the Alps. Whitewater rafting in Austria. Trying exotic new foods. Practicing speaking other languages in other countries. SCUBA diving. Exploring the Great Wall, the Parthenon, and the Pyramids. Wandering through the Louvre, the Uffizi, and the Galleria dell'Accademia.
I live a comfortable life right now. I can't afford a Prius or a house, but I don't have to worry about money. I paid out of pocket for a lot of dental work this year and it wasn't a problem. I didn't enjoy it. I would rather not. But if my teeth require implants, crowns, and fillings and my insurance won't pay - I have two choices: pay and stress about it, or pay and don't let it get to me. And it is a luxury that the latter is my choice. It is even a luxury that the former is my choice.
So it's a contract. Go to work and put the coversheets on my TPS reports and in exchange have dental work and trips to Hawaii.
Is it worth it? Could I trade comfort for freedom?
In the hostel I had little more than a borrowed bed and access to a shower, a toilet, and a coin operated laundry. What do you need in Hawaii? A few swimsuits, skirts, tanktops, maybe a windbreaker or an umbrella, sandals, hiking shoes, and a beach towel. And every day you can enjoy what Mother Nature gives you for free. Beauty, the ocean, and sunshine. If you were clever at catching chickens or finding eggs you could also eat chicken and eggs every day for free.
What is keeping me from dropping everything and moving to Hawaii to live in a hostel - or maybe open my own - and write a cookbook and pursue an internet business? Health insurance.
The people I met who live full time in the hostel have a health plan called "Don't Get Sick." They weren't forced into it; they chose it.
One old man with wild hair and a bushy grey beard was a painter from Germany. He told me he was an anarchist. "Society gives you wealth in exchange for putting you in chains," he said. "I rejected my chains and the lifestyle that came with them."
I am now on meds that cost a small bundle without insurance. So much for the health plan of "Don't Get Sick." I NEED health insurance. I NEED my job. Until I become independently wealthy or win the lottery, my alarm is set to go off at 8:30am every weekday.
So, to my boss, if you are reading this, and I hope to gawd you aren't, I will be there on Monday with a smile on my face and a good attitude... same as every other day. No plans on quitting any time soon (and others, if you know where I work, KINDLY DO NOT NAME WHERE I WORK IN THE COMMENTS OR ANYWHERE ELSE).
(On the good side of things - I work on something where I have a nice degree of autonomy and I like the team, and I'm starting something else which could turn out to be anything, good or bad)
What the Hell This Has To Do With Government
Friday I chatted with a doctor at work. He said that our system of employers insuring us began a while ago (during a World War) when the government said that employers could not increase wages. So employers tried to attract workers with benefits instead to get around that rule. I've tried to research this online and found nothing so I'd appreciate if anyone who knows something on this could chime in and I can update the diary.
Through entropy and Republicans, we wound up with the system for healthcare and health insurance we have today. Last year extra barriers to bankruptcy went into effect. Our society punishes dreamers who want to take risks if they fail. Sure, some succeed. But the risk averse don't even try... only the brave and the stupid do that.
If we had universal single payor healthcare, social security and medicare the young could count on to be there for us, and better bankruptcy laws (such as those of the pre-last-October variety) - our chains would be lessened.
What if we could do what we really wanted and still have healthcare? If my job wasn't my ticket into the doctor and for prescription drugs? Let alone birth control pills.
(Birth control pills are a story onto themselves. Whatever you think about a stranger having a migraine without access to medication for it - do you want that same stranger to have an unwanted baby? Unless the stranger is a nun who took a vow of poverty, I think it's a moral obligation to give them access to birth control if they want it. It's a moral obligation to all of their unborn children. I'm not saying the poor shouldn't have children if they want children. It's everyone's god given right to have kids if they so choose. But as for unwanted children, I think it's unethical to parents and baby to put anyone who can't afford their own access to healthcare enough to get birth control at risk of pregnancy every time they have sex.)
What if we could all take our wildest ideas for our own businesses or novels or artwork or music and try them out? Some would succeed and some would go bankrupt. For example, I met an inventor in Hawaii who has never held a traditional job - but he invented a bicycle that people in wheelchairs can use that was a success. Disabled people all over America have benefitted because of him. The more forgiving our bankruptcy laws are, the more people will take the risk. Would we all be better off as Americans because of the new inventions and businesses we would have access to? I don't know the answer, but I'm asking the question.
As for social security, my grandmother lives off hers. She didn't work until she was over 50 and after 42 years of marriage she left my grandfather. She worked for about 10 years and now she lives off of small social security checks (she only gets a little because she only put in a little) in a one-bedroom apartment. She reads a lot of library books and goes to the movies with her friends. She lives for very little and loves her independence. Medicare takes care of her health and her drugs come from Canada. Can we all count on the very minimum of this arrangement in our retirements? Or do I need to continue working for the next few decades so I can build up my 401(k) and buy a house and pay the mortage off?
The Republican fear would be me, living in a hostel, rejecting the possessions our society tells us we need, on a tropical island, happy. Universal single payor healthcare would be an offensive idea because people who don't put in would be able to benefit. And then, god forbid, people like me might CHOOSE to stop putting so much into society.
I wonder though - maybe someone would be able to figure it out, like a think tank or something - would the savings gained by consolidating all of the overhead outweigh the extra amount spent by insuring those who don't really contribute much in the way of taxes? Hospitals would probably need fewer resources to do their coding because with a single payor system, the rules would be the same for every patient who comes in. Currently they have to deal with a different set of rules for every single payor and every single plan. Then the government would have economies of scale by administering the single payor system over the current system with many smaller insurance companies. Of course, the insurance lobby would hate to be outcompeted by the government. We need leaders who can stand up to them.
I would love to open a hostel in Hawaii. I've got so many ideas for it. I would also love to write a cookbook. I wouldn't be totally useless to society if I could do all of that. But it would be a far bigger risk than I am willing to leap into - especially considering the health insurance issue. Especially considering how difficult bankruptcy has become. And I'd feel better about doing it once we had an administration in power who wasn't attempting to dismantle the New Deal.
