Monday, August 31, 2009

Random Observations From A Random Health Care Town Hall In One Little Corner Of The Country.

As I approached the entrance to the engagement with my Congressman I thought I pretty much knew what to expect. People like this guy:


I asked if I could take his picture and engage in a little civil sparring. I took note of how he instantly snapped into the "look how cool I look standing next to this sign" pose and how it contrasted with the pictures I took of pro-healthcare demonstrators who invariably would shut their eyes at the moment the shutter opened or hold a flag in front of the sign with their message. I have another picture of a woman decked out in revolutionary war garb perfectly positioned under a "don't tread on me" flag next to the street entrance.

Someone has schooled these guys in how to pose for the camera.

I asked Mr. Cool why healthcare rationing by Aetna was better than health care rationing by the government.

"Because with government health rationing you don't have a choice"

I pointed out that we were at a meeting with our elected representative who was about to hear from people who were upset at his actions and ready to hold him accountable, and that if I was upset with the actions of the insurance company my employer uses, their executives would never hold such a meeting and if they did would tell me to go screw.

"But you don't have to use your employers insurance company. You can buy a policy from another. Granted, it may be expensive....."

"So we can agree that cost is a problem with the way things are"

"Yes"

"How do we fix that?"

"Make more money"

He was the most rational person on their side I could find my friends. Far more common were people like this:





Look how cranky that dude looks. And old. And how white. This town hall meeting was in a city with a Latino population of 64% and out of about 1,000 people there, that kid in the background was one of 8 Latinos I saw. Two of them were reporters.

The good news: The cranky old white demographic is not a majority of this country. The majority of white people are pleasant and/or young.

The bad news: The old cranky asses are LOUD! And man they are full of hate. I heard it all afternoon long. They'll vent their hate within earshot of me because I'm white as bleach myself. They hate black people, who are evidently on the verge of crippling our economy by pushing through reparations for slavery. Under the radar of all major news organizations apparently, but not of the nephew of one of the cranky asses, whose hard work uncovered the scheme "on some fact check site." They hate the Native Americans because their casinos make them rich. The descendants of the ones who survived the genocide that is. Some of them. And they really hate the illegal aliens who have the nerve to come here and take a job someone offers them cleaning toilets or picking lettuce or some other occupation the cranky-ass evidently would love to get into.

You know what cranky-ass? You hate the undocumented worker so much? Make a statement. Go clean a public toilet so the undocumented worker has no work to do.

I was starting to miss Mr. Cool.

When the time came for questions from those in attendance, our Congressman asked people who were for the health care reform legislation being considered in the House to form one line, and people against it to form another. I counted. There were 4 more people on the anti side, but they easily....easily....made 80% of the noise. The first person to speak from the anti side was a little old lady who said that she had both Tricare for life and Medicare "and I don't want you messing with either" whereupon the antis in the room broke out in applause in support of two giant government run healthcare programs.

Oh how I missed Mr. Cool and the fact that while he held a position that was very fucked up, at least had the advantage of being able to be supported by logic.

That's how the rest of the night went. Logic was nowhere to be found on their side, but Hitler was. One questioner and at least two protest signs mentioned Hitler.

To my friends on the other side of this issue I will say this. Please.....please.....please mention Hitler a lot. Seriously. It's a lot easier for me when you destroy your own credibility than when I do it for you. To everyone screaming shit about Hitler, a big, heartfelt, thank you.

And to the people there tonight screaming everything else, you have taught me a lesson. There were 4 fewer people in our line than yours. We are far too quiet. Lesson learned.

Help me make some noise my friends.


Sunday, August 30, 2009

I've Said It Before, And I Will Say It Again This Night. I Have The Most Kick-Ass Set Of Blog Readers In The World.

Or else it's a testament to my writing talent that motivated you to pop the Bill Monning fundraising thermometer last night. Or both. But pop the fundraising thermometer you did, so when I get back to slinging the pills on Tuesday, you will indeed get the next week chronicled in pill counting highlight form.

I gotta be honest, when I first made that offer, I really didn't think you'd take me up on it. Freaky customers don't fail me now.

And thank you. We've shown that there are rewards when someone stands up for us. We all deserve a big congratulatory pat on the ass of the type the football players who totally aren't gay give each other all the time.

In other news, The New York Times Magazine ran a piece today chronicling the chaos that health care workers at Memorial Medical Center in New Orleans faced after hurricane Katrina. It may have degenerated into euthanasia. Actually it probably did. I'll pass it along without comment, as I have no idea what it would be like to work under those conditions, other than to say it is a kick-ass piece of writing. If I could write stuff like this I would.


I'll also say this is the kind of thing that happens when you elect people to run your government who say that government can't do anything. So.....maybe....we should choose leaders who express confidence the organization they wish to lead can do the job it is mandated to do? Just sayin'

Heckuva job Brownie.....

Friday, August 28, 2009

It's Not A Ghostwriting By Big Pharma Kinda Night. It's Definitely More Of A Highlights From Today's Pill Counting Action Kinda Night

The heat slipped into the pharmacy this day exactly the way mustard gas would choose to. Slowly. Seeping through the vulnerabilities of the building's insulation systems steadily and without mercy. Wearing away our comfort like the drip of Chinese water torture, which I forgot there for a second was renamed Chinese enhanced interrogation method by the Bush administration. Once a year, twice at most, it gets hot enough in my city that you might want air conditioning. Which means once a year, twice at most, we are reminded that my employer's air conditioning does not work. So once a year, twice at most, a member of management calls an air conditioning repair company who shows up and makes loud banging noises on the roof for a few hours. By the time the banging noises are made however, days have usually passed, and it has cooled down naturally, meaning there is no way to test that the banging noises were effective. Around a year later, my employer finds out the previous summer's banging noises accomplished nothing. Today was such a day.

The printer broke too. Which means I had, on average, to print 5 labels for every one that I could use.

The first words out of the mouth of the first caller of the day: "I DON'T KNOW WHHHHAAAAAATS GOING ON HERE!!!!!!!," and I could not have agreed more. I was immediately convinced, before the second sentence ever came out, that the caller, indeed, had no idea what was going on. In any aspect of their life.

He was out of refills and didn't understand what the words "no refills" on the label meant. The fact he looked at the label at all put him in the upper 80th percentile of my customer pool.

We had fans in the pharmacy while the rest of the store's employees did not. Because we are not stupid and they are. I took comfort in this and in the fact that warmer weather meant the chicks were wearing less clothing. I swear I saw areola at one point. I thanked the nipple Gods.

A prescription was presented for fluconazole 125mg, use vaginally at bedtime.

YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IT'S LIKE TO HAVE VAGINAL ITCHING!!!!!! It was yelled. At the top of her lungs. And while I had to concede that the customer was correct on that point, I also had to explain that volume would not make her doctor clarify this turd of a prescription any faster, especially when directed at someone who did not write the prescription and who had no prescribing authority. I did much better with the next person to yell something out.

MY BLOOD PRESSURE IS 47 OVER 20!!!!!!! I NEED TO GO TO THE ER!!!!!! I sprang into action. Even though I am not qualified to practice medicine, I went through an objective diagnostic procedure. It went something like this:

I see sir, that you are an idiot.

Using the store's blood pressure machine takes, although a limited amount, some brainpower.

If your blood pressure were, in fact, 47 over 20, you would be dead. Or at the very least unable to yell at me while I am on the phone with a doctor.

Conclusion? You fucked up taking the reading. Savings to the health care system? Probably a thousand bucks or so if the person were on Medicare. Seventeen hundred if he was covered by a for-profit insurance company, who would have then immediately terminated his coverage.

You're welcome America.

Unfortunately it was now time for lunch, and to face my fear.

The lady at the fast-food Chinese restaurant has been giving me things. Last week she didn't charge me for my meal. A few days later she brought me over a newspaper and didn't want it back. Yesterday she threw in a bowl of soup. I don't understand, and quite frankly, am afraid she at some point might expect repayment in non-monetary ways, which wouldn't be so bad if she were attractive. At all. This whole situation has been a source of great amusement to my staff. After areola woman left I asked, "Why can't a woman like THAT ever give me soup?"

"Hahahahahahahaaaaaaaaaaaa"......said my technician. "No soup for you." She is unaware of Seinfeld, and how she made the drugnazi thing come full circle.

She was also right. I chickened out and went to Subway. As the sun relented from providing the days heat, I thought of the annual banging of the air conditioning ducts and of the orange chicken I would never have again.

Thursday, August 27, 2009

From The "You Learn Something Every Day" File.

In today's mailbag:

Subject: About the Spock choice on your poll

Someone may have already brought this up...

but on your "You Must Have Sex With One," you failed to mention whether or not Spock was undergoing pon farr. Pon farr occurs once every 7 years for a Vulcan, and during that time, they are sex-crazed maniacs. Any other time, the emotions are subdued.


Huh. I gotta be honest, when I made that poll I was just thinking those ears would be kinda hot. Would totally fit the "every once in awhile you need something weird and unusual" bill. I won't tell you what my last weird and unusual was, but it wouldn't compare to a sex crazed Vulcan, that I know. Suddenly I can't get the image of a sex crazed Vulcan out of my head.

And please stop voting for Mary Ann. Simple-ass farm girl would never be good for anything other than 5 minutes of missionary and you know it. Ginger would rock your world.

Back to pharmacy soon. I promise. I still owe you guys the post about Big Pharma ghost written research papers. In the meantime go to your Congressperson's town hall meeting and scream at the top of your lungs that they are a Nazi unless they pass a health reform package that incorporates a single payer government run plan.

Single payer would save us money you know.

And provide better care.

Medicare is a single payer government run health program. Go out and try to find me some Medicare horror stories that'll compare with the ones I can tell you about Aetna.

Or Humana.

Or United Health Care.

You get the picture. Go yell at your Congressperson now.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

A Quote Straight From Today's Headlines


The great adventures which our opponents offer is a voyage into the past. Progress is our heritage, not theirs. What is right for us as Democrats is also the right way for Democrats to win.

The commitment I seek is not to outworn views but to old values that will never wear out. Programs may sometimes become obsolete, but the ideal of fairness always endures. Circumstances may change, but the work of compassion must continue. It is surely correct that we cannot solve problems by throwing money at them, but it is also correct that we dare not throw out our national problems onto a scrap heap of inattention and indifference. The poor may be out of political fashion, but they are not without human needs. The middle class may be angry, but they have not lost the dream that all Americans can advance together.

The demand of our people in 1980 is not for smaller government or bigger government but for better government. Some say that government is always bad and that spending for basic social programs is the root of our economic evils. But we reply: The present inflation and recession cost our economy $200 billion a year. We reply: Inflation and unemployment are the biggest spenders of all.



Except some of you no doubt caught the numbers 1980 in the quote above. What Ted Kennedy said 29 years ago would have been just as true as if it had been uttered as his last words. This night the last echo of the great American age of liberalism that created the middle class in which you probably reside has gone silent. We won't see its return in our lifetime. Ours is destined to be a generation playing defense. The best we can muster being the audacity of health insurance co-ops. And that's when we're not getting our teeth kicked in.

I miss him. I can't even remember his best years, but I already miss his presence.



Monday, August 24, 2009

I Bet I Could make A Good Housewife For Jesus.

I'd keep a neat for house for him. I do good with keeping up with the cleaning now, and I bet that's one of the things that would attract Jesus to me. I get the impression Jesus would be a neat freak. He'd come home from a hard day at work and I would have everything just where it should be, his favorite magazine at the top of the coffee table ready to read while I made dinner.

I bet Jesus' favorite magazine would be "People" Jesus strikes me as a people person.

I'm not much of a cook though, and I wonder if that would be a source of tension in our household. He'd make some snide comment about potatoes for dinner again and I'd be like "Well if you don't like it why don't you maybe feed your own family with some fish and a couple loaves of bread instead of a crowd of strangers?" Then there would be silence. Both of us regretting words we did not mean to hurt. Because I would love Jesus. And from everything I've heard, Jesus loves me.

But to be honest, I'm not sure what I saw in him all those years ago. He had kind of that rebel bad boy look about him you know, with the long hair and that "peace on earth" attitude. It can get to a guy. It has gotten to a lot of guys. The disciples. How could I have been so blind. I'll never forget the unmistakable sight of Judas' lipstick on Jesus' collar as I did the wash. I knew that Judas was no good from the beginning.

He left the toilet seat up again last night. I don't even know who he is anymore. He's hellbent on saving the world and all the world does is kill in his name. I can see it gets to him but can't he at least get rid of the fleas on the dog before he goes and cures the community of leprosy again?

He wanted sex again last night. Missionary style. Again. I told him he'd just have to get by with an immaculate orgasm because I'm just not interested anymore. I don't know what happened.

I wonder what Mohamed is up to these days.

Monday, August 17, 2009

I Buy Some Dead Kennedys, And The Experience Makes Me Miss The Dead Kennedys More.

Something tells me it wouldn't be as easy to sing about lynching your landlord today as it was in the late 70's. Or to write a tune about killing people on the golf course with poison gas or have a track on your album entitled "I Kill Children." The edge that defines edginess has dulled as the baby boomers have aged. I seem to remember some band called Anti-Flag saying once they thought themselves in physical danger after 9/11. I also remember Anti-Flag as kinda sucking, not nearly worthy enough to carry the Dead Kennedys jock strap. Not to mention the way Rage Against The Machine went into hiding during the era of Bush The Lessor, only popping their heads out briefly to make some money when the coast was clear.

The Kennedys are a message in a bottle from another era, and tonight I wanted to go back, even though that era's memories are some of the foggiest and most distant in my brain.

The person manning the checkout lane at the big-box media retailer was overwhelmed and baffled. It's amazing how complicated Corporate America has made the process of paying for a book, but complicate it they have, to the point where today you need a working familiarity with Windows to be able to do it. The line was backing up at an exponential pace, the teens behind me were sniggering at him, but I waited patiently for my turn at the counter because the cashier seemed like a good soul. He forgot to ask the people in front of me if they wanted to join a Corpra-savings club and he looked flustered. Bet he had some sort of Corpra-savings club quota to meet. His face lit up when he saw my purchase though.

"Oh man. wish these guys would have stayed together. They would have been all over......." Then he stopped.

"Bush." I finished the thought for him. "It's OK. You're talking to a friendly."

"You never know around here"

I gave the clerk a good look. He was the right age. Being his age and being hip to the Kennedys told me something about him. The Kennedys were obscure when they were together. They were also kick-ass good. This guy had been with the program at one time and now.....he had to make sure he was talking to a friendly in order to keep his shit retail job where snot-nosed kids looked down on him and it would be a constant struggle to keep up with the software. I had a vision of him behind the counter sometime in early 80's Berkeley engaged in a vigorous debate with a customer over whether the new Kennedys album was evidence they were now sellouts, then I opened my eyes, took another good look and heard him ask if I was interested in joining the Corpra-savings club.

This is how they've dulled the edge. It's only a small example. A larger one is how they are very close to forcing us to keep the worst performing, most expensive health care system in the western world when the majority of people in this country voted for fundamental change.

You do remember that "change" was a central theme of our President's successful political campaign, yes? I don't seem to remember anything about "The audacity of health insurance co-ops"

I still wanna lynch the landlord. It's a lonely feeling.

Saturday, August 15, 2009

I Post A Video Entitled "Hard To Swallow," And It's Not About My Penis Size.

It's actually a web series pilot sent to me by my good friend, and by "good friend" I mean "person I've never heard of before in my life," Jenn Fee. It's not without potential. Take a look:

Hard to Swallow from Michelle lang on Vimeo.


My unsolicited and uninvited thoughts:

"The incident" is the key. Something so incredibly outrageous it becomes a theme throughout the whole series. How about a customer pushes Gary the Pharmacist gradually to the breaking point, and he finally snaps when he hears a question about whether a suppository should be taken by mouth, whereupon he tries to de-pants the customer to show him, in an incredibly angry way, just where the suppository should go?

Gary is then put under a restraining order stating if there are any more "incidents" in the future he goes to San Quentin. A scene with Gary in jail while prison gangs haggle over his worth in cigarettes follows. The battle to avoid further "incidents" while being pushed to the brink by customers becomes a constant. Maybe with a prison scene shown every time Gary is about to lose it.

The karate chick totally saves Gary from an "incident" by taking down an idiot customer. The customer is a Republican. Watching a Republican get taken down by a karate chick would be my favorite part of the show.

The black-haired chick can't take any more of Gary at some point and they have a huge fight. Sadly, she decides to give up her acting dreams and apply to med school. Unbeknownst to her, Gary pulls some strings to get her accepted. She finds out and one of those touchy-feely heartwarming scenes the general public seems to like so much follows.

A lot more of the Spanish-speaking chick. 'Cause that Spanish-speaking chick is hot.

Anyway, many thanks to my good friend Jenn Fee for saving me from having to come up with my own idea for today's blog post. I'll resume regularly scheduled programming shortly.

Thursday, August 13, 2009

I Was Going To Give You A Highlights From Today's Pill Counting Action Post, But A Republican Had To Show Up And Start Lying


From the mailbag, Was1 has this to say on the topic of healthcare:

if you think its expensive now, just wait til its free.

with 80% of americans happy with their health care insurance, why is there a 'crisis'? the majority of those who are unhappy are the people on government plans. now we want everybody to have a government plan? those with private coverage are satisfied with what they have. let's go ahead and get the uninsured covered and leave the rest of us alone.

if we're talking about making the system more cost effective, then we need to have tort reform. as long as doctors, hospitals and pharmacies can be sued out of existence by some john edwards wannabe there will be excessive costs involved. but nobody seems to want to piss off the trial lawyers.


Do you know the funniest part of this letter? Was1 and President Obama are in total agreement.

Was1: those with private coverage are satisfied with what they have. let's go ahead and get the uninsured covered and leave the rest of us alone.


Unfortunately it's people like Was1 and President Obama who are standing in the way of the health care reform we really need, namely a single payer "Medicare for all" universal system. I don't know why Was1 and President Obama think that incremental, piecemeal reform that leaves the for-profit insurance infrastructure intact is the way to go. Maybe because they actually believe 80% of Americans are happy with their health insurance. You know, I take back what I said earlier. The fact anyone out there can believe 80% of Americans are happy with their health insurance is the funniest part of his letter. One of the things that makes me, and I would dare say anyone who works behind a pharmacy counter, so in love with my job is the fact I get to listen to a constant parade of Americans telling me how happy they are with their insurance all day long. It's a claim almost too ridiculous to dignify with a debunk, but I will, by repeating something I've said before. From the June 20th New York Times:

85 percent of (poll) respondents said the health care system needed to be fundamentally changed or completely rebuilt.


So many people wanna rebuild the system because they're so happy I bet.

Here's another funny thing Was1 wrote. And by funny I mean bald-face lie:

the majority of those who are unhappy are the people on government plans.

You can shout that kind of thing at your Congressperson's town hall meeting Was1, because there usually aren't a lot of fact checkers around at a town hall meeting. Here however, bullshit gets called:

In a national Commonwealth Fund survey, elderly Medicare beneficiaries reported greater overall satisfaction with their health coverage, better access to care, and fewer problems paying medical bills than people covered by employer-sponsored plans.
I've even got a nice little chart, in case you're not too good with words. Took me about 10 seconds to find:



Maybe the problem, Was1, is you don't realize Medicare is a government run plan. Or maybe the problem is that you unquestioningly accept whatever Rush and Fox News tell you, and don't realize the term "dittohead" is an insult meaning you cannot think for yourself. If so I feel sorry for you. Because they have managed to dupe you into opposing a plan that would do exactly what you claim you want to have done. In case you missed it the first time:

Was1: those with private coverage are satisfied with what they have. let's go ahead and get the uninsured covered and leave the rest of us alone.

President Obama: Here is a guarantee that I've made. If you have insurance that you like, then you will be able to keep that insurance. If you've got a doctor that you like, you will be able to keep your doctor. Nobody is trying to change what works in the system. We are trying to change what doesn't work in the system.

Or maybe you're just a bald-faced lying evil motherfucker. I'm not quite sure. Maybe you can write back and let me know if you're evil or just gullible.

Oh, and when you do? You can tell me all about how Texas is a health care paradise these days. Texas passed medical malpractice reform a few years ago that capped pain and suffering awards at $250,000, and lawsuits have gone down to almost zero. So go ahead and write me up a little report showing how the health care problems that plague the rest of the country no longer bother Texas.

You'll have to do it with no bullshit though Was1. Because as you've just seen, bullshit here gets called.

Thanks for playing.


Friday, August 07, 2009

The Drugmonkey Guide For Debating Right-Wing "Average Citizens" Who Totally Aren't Doing The Bidding Of Insurance Companies, At Town Hall Meetings.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!!

OOOOOOOAAAAAGGGHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAA!!!!!

NAZIS!!!!!

KLANSMEN!!!

PASS THE BILL!!!!!! PASS THE BILL!!!!! PASS THE BILL!!!!!!!

CANADIANS LIVE LONGER!!!!

AAAAAAAAUUUUUGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

ENGLISHMEN TOO! AND WOMEN!!!

THIS IS AMERICA!!! SO SHHHHHHHHUUUUUUDDDDDDUUUUPPPPPPPP AND LISTEN TO MEEEEEE!!!! ONLY ME!!!!! FREEDOM OF SPEECH IS ONLY FOR MEEEEEEEE!!!!!

EEEEYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!

HEALTH INSURANCE COMPANIES SUCK!!!! THEY'RE MURDERERS!!!

(follow through by phoning in death threats to insurance company executives. And act like you are hanging them outside the meeting place)

WHHHHHHAAAAAAA!!!!!!

KLANSMEN!

BOOGA BOOGA BOOGA!!!

Repeat at at least 100 decibels. Over, and over.....again. This is apparently what they do now when they lose an election. Yell and scream and cry like little bitches. It would be hilarious if the stakes were not so high, and not just for health care reform.

How much longer until they shed blood when they're not happy? They've already threatened the lives of at least two members of Congress.

I'll be at my Congressmember's town hall meeting this month, and if you're looking for a fight, I'll be happy to give you one.

Hope your health insurance is as good as you think it is.


Tuesday, August 04, 2009

You've Worked Years For This Chance. If You Let Up Now You Can Lose It All This Month.

This victory alone is not the change we seek – it is only the chance for us to make that change. And that cannot happen if we go back to the way things were. It cannot happen without you.

-Barack Obama, November 4th, 2008

I am very sorry to tell you the fight didn't end on election night my friends. I know it would have if the other side had won. When they win they proceed to ram through things like tax cuts for the rich and wars for the poor without so much as lip service to our side. We hear about how the losers just have to deal with it. How elections have consequences. When we win we suddenly hear about the importance of bipartisanship. Because the moneyed interests that broker the real power in this country do not quit fighting on election night, when they lose they fight even harder. When we win, it earns us only an opportunity to step into the ring with them.

By the way, how much did your taxes go down when Bush the lessor fucked with the tax code? Seriously, look it up, tell me, and then explain why adding a trillion dollars to the deficit for no apparent reason was worth it but adding less than that to ensure we treat our sick and injured in a civilized fashion is not.

So we won in November and now we have the opportunity to fight them. The opening bell just rang my friends. I know it's not fair that we can lose after we win when they cannot, but that's the way it is, so we have to deal with it. And fight. And know that our opponent will not go down easily. Do you like your insurance plan? If you answered yes have you actually had to use it? In addition to telling me how much money you saved with Bush's tax cuts, I want you to tell me all about the time when your health insurance company really came through for you. How they put your mind at ease in a time of crisis. That is the function of an insurance company after all. That's why you pay them your premium every month. To put your mind at ease. Tell me all about it.

Something tells me you won't be able to. Because I have no trouble finding stories like this. From the July 16th airing of Democracy Now!:

AMY GOODMAN: What do you mean, “dumping the sick”?

WENDELL POTTER: Two different ways that they do this. In the individual insurance market, we’ve seen quite a bit of news coverage, especially in California. When insurance companies who are active in the individual market—and this means when you don’t get your insurance coverage through your workplace, about the only option you have is to buy it directly from an insurance company, and usually it’s much more costly than it is through—if you buy it or get it through your employer. Once you file a claim, if you are unfortunate enough to get very sick or have an accident and file a claim, you very often will find that your insurance company will go back and look at your application to see if there might be a chance that you either didn’t disclose something that you knew about in the past or inadvertently didn’t disclose something or might not have known about a pre-existing condition. They’ll use that as evidence that you were committing fraud, and they’ll revoke your policy, or they call it “rescinding” your policy, leaving you holding the bag, making you completely responsible for all the medical bills. That’s one way that they dump people who need insurance the most.

Another is, if you are employed, particularly with a small business, and your insurance—your employer gets his or her insurance through one of the large insurers, and if just one person in your company files a claim that the underwriters think is too high, if it skews what they think is the appropriate medical experience or claim experience, when that business comes up for renewal, they very likely will jack up the rates so much that your employer has no alternative but to leave and leave you and all of your coworkers without insurance. Either that or they may cut benefits or try to shop for coverage somewhere else. But the end result is, you may find yourself dumped into the rolls and the ranks of the uninsured

Wendell Potter is the former head of corporate communications at CIGNA, so he tends to know what he's talking about. Here he is again:

And they’ll be working with their ideological allies, with the business community, with conservative pundits and editorial writers, to try to scare people into thinking that embracing a public health insurance option would lead us down the slippery—excuse me, slippery slope toward socialism and that you will be, in essence, putting a government bureaucrat between you and your doctor. That is—you know, they’ve used those talking points for years, and in years past they’ve always worked.

Oh. Well we wouldn't want any kind of bureaucrat between doctors and the people who need care, now would we? Absolutely not. We would never stand for that:

Except you are standing for it. From the same Democracy Now! piece:

AMY GOODMAN: In 2007, CIGNA denied a California teenager, Nataline Sarkisyan, coverage for a liver transplant. Her family went to the media. This is her mother.

HILDA SARKISYAN: The insurance company can’t decide who’s going to live and who’s going to die. Only doctors and nurses. Thank you.

AMY GOODMAN: The California Nurses Association joined in. Geri Jenkins is head of the CNA.

GERI JENKINS: It’s just really atrocious that we let decisions be made based on money and not on human life and what’s necessary to keep people alive. The Sarkisyans had insurance. And that’s the telling thing here. They had insurance. They had done everything that was expected of them. They worked hard. They provided insurance. And yet, when they needed it, it wasn’t there for them.

AMY GOODMAN: Under mounting pressure, CIGNA finally granted coverage for the liver transplant. But it was too late. Two hours later, Nataline died.

Nataline's last words were "Thank God I do not have to deal with any kind of government run health care system. Dying under the banner of free market health care is much better than living in Canada."

I made that quote up. I didn't make up the part where she would have lived in Canada though.

But when you're spending a million dollars a day on lobbying, the way the health care industry is, you can do things like organize *ahem* spontaneous displays of anger from "average citizens" determined to defend the "system" that costs more and delivers less than any health care system in the world. "Rip us off!! the angry protesters at the Congressman's district office are essentially saying "Take our money and make us sicker!" It would be hilarious if it wasn't true.

But it is true. It is not, however, hopeless. We have earned the chance to step into the ring with them, and we must now punch them in the nose. Or the nuts. Because they fight dirty.



Let them know you expect the change you voted for in November. Because we could still lose. Even after we won.

I Live Blog My Plumbing Experience

2 weeks ago- The filth came out of my tub like the primal oooze of a swamp in Louisiana. I've only been to New Orleans, never to a swamp, but I'm sure this is what a swamp would smell like. The ooze isn't the problem though, it's normal when I haven't ran the bathtub tap in the second bathroom for awhile, and being a shower man, the only time I run it is when I think I might have a guest over.

Notice I didn't necessarily say overnight guest. It's best not to probe too deeply into what goes through my head sometimes:

"Well hi Bob, it's good to see you stranger! How you been? Would you like a cup of coffee or a bath or something?"

The ooze wouldn't leave though. That was the problem. It set up camp at the base of my drain and refused to budge.

Naturally, the first step would be to jiggle the drain lever thingy. It was jiggled. The ooze let out a mocking, sinister, laugh. I saw some screws and took them off. My tool set consists of some Philips screwdrivers, a pair of needle nose vice grips I found in a parking lot once, WD-40, and some packing tape. Not even duct tape. Packing tape. That tells you how seriously I take my tools. My nicest tools are a mint-condition ratchet set my parents bought me when I got my house in Ohio. And when I say parents I mean Dad. This ooze situation reminded me of many a Saturday afternoon around the house with my dad fetching tools. Here I could say "Could you get me the vice grips?" When I was a boy around the house though it would have had to have been far more specific. Something like "Hey boy, while you're sitting there resting, get me the blunt nose single sply quarter turn 45 degree upward angle alloyed vice grips"

When I returned it would be something like "The single slpy! You think I can take off this engine block with double sply vice grips? The biggest part of a project is having the right tools boy." I was referred to as "boy" or "the boy" until I was around 15 I think.

So I matched up the situation to my tools and took out some screws. Then I looked around. I sighed impatiently at the ooze to let it know it was now time to leave. When I stared banging on whatever was a couple inches below the drain I knew it was time to stop. My brother in law has a plumbing business, and I'm pretty sure I heard him say once at Christmas that everyones presents that year were financed by husbands who started banging on stuff. I used the last tool in my tool box and a tactic a friend of mine uses when he has house guests. I put a roll of toilet paper within view of the ooze.

"I'm glad to see you. I said to my guest. But when it's gone so are you"

1 week ago- The fatal flaw in my plan has become evident. Plumbing ooze does not defecate and therefore has no need for toilet paper. So now it evidently thinks it has an invitation to stay until the roll naturally decomposes over the course of the next few hundred years or so. I can't help but to think if only my vice grips were single sply the problem would be solved. As it is I come to grips with my need for professional help and can feel my penis shrink a bit as I call the plumber. The lady who answers the plumber's phone is very nice and has a sweet voice, exactly how I imagine the receptionist would sound at an impotence clinic. I swear she's ready to say "It happens to every guy eventually" as she leafs through the appointment book.

"I have a spot open for 8 AM" I wait for the list of later times I'm sure is to follow. None do. The thought I could easily live with just one bathroom floats through my mind. I take the 8AM appointment confident the plumber will arrive late.

Yesterday- I receive a request to get a picture of the plumbers crack while he's over.

Today, 8:01 AM- The phone wakes me from a dream in which my mother has just been chosen to be a contestant on a reality TV show. I think the show had something to do with cooking. I was hoping they would have her make lasagna, as I hadn't had mom's lasagna for years.

"This is Heather from Bob's plumbing!!!" were the words that snapped me out of my pasta fantasy. "They're on their way over!!" Her name wasn't really Heather but she totally sounded like one. Heathers have a distinctive sound and I suspected it was her middle name. I decided on a breakfast of black coffee.

8:03- Plumbers arrive before any caffeine is drinkable. The main plumber seems much too skinny to have a crack. The second is very soft spoken and seems like some sort of gentle giant. If I am to get a picture of a plumber's crack this day, he will have to be the one to supply it.

8:05- Plumbers are finished. "It was either gonna come easy or it was gonna break" The main plumber told me as I struggled with the coffee filter. I imagined how it went down. "We can do this the easy way, or the hard way" he said to the ooze, then he showed it his plumbing license. The gentle giant then sat down next to the ooze and told it a story about his childhood that made the ooze realize this had all been just a ploy for attention. The gentle giant and the ooze shared a hug and the ooze went to the sewage treatment plant to face its fate like a man.

In reality the plumber said "I just loosened it up with a pair of vice grips. It's mostly about having the right tools."

I handed over a check and felt my penis shrink. I guess I'll take a bath now and think of the lie I'll tell my tech tomorrow when she asks how my day off was.

Saturday, August 01, 2009

The Friday Night Subway Chronicles, Part 2

It started with me playing "Who in the room is hot?" while I munched on the first of the day's subs. I play it pretty much every time I find myself in the Subway or otherwise alone in a crowd of people. That shouldn't surprise you. I am a man, and men are pigs. What I tell myself though, is that I need to be prepared in case a random stranger comes up and proposes sex, like happens in the Penthouse Forum with regularity. Thinking ahead of time would pay off in such a situation I say. The last thing you would want is to be caught off guard.

That's when I noticed her crying. It wasn't a cry of melodrama that is a plea for the world to share in your troubles. No, she was trying to bear whatever it was alone the best she could. She was trying to stop, but pain was spilling over the dam and she couldn't. There was something wrong with this woman. It was the soft, suppressed sob of something real.

I couldn't help but wonder what it was and I quit looking around for hotties. I wanted her to stop. I wanted whatever was hurting her to go away. I don't know why really, I mean, I didn't have a dog in this fight, but I wanted her better and it brought back memories. Of back when I was deciding how I would accumulate my life dollars and how one factor that went into the decision was the thought that I would be helping people. Ha. I'd almost forgotten. It seems like that was some other life on some far distant planet now.

Why won't she stop?

I suppose I might have helped a person or two today. As some sort of Sherpa guide to a paid insurance claim. Not exactly what I had in mind when I was living that other life on that other planet so long ago. A lot of times I told people their medicine wasn't covered on their insurance plan and said I didn't know when they asked why. Then I took their money. Making a difference, cashing my paycheck. That's what I do these days.

I really wanted her to stop. I would have given her my sub if it would have helped. I would have poured over the pharmacology texts all night long the way I used to. My lunchtime was turning into a trip down memory lane. I long ago turned cynical and jaded and contemptuous of almost every human I come in contact with and I really wanted this woman to stop crying!

She broke out her purse and started to freshen up her makeup. That's when I saw her name tag. It was time to put her game face on and get back to work. That part I understood. More than once I've had to pull myself together, put my game face on, and head back to the store.

She finally stopped.

She shot me a death glare as she walked by. Probably because she thought I was trying to figure out if she was hot or not.

A tear streamed down her cheek as she left.

I put my game face on.