Granny's ordeal: Dealing with an inhumane healthcare system

Have you been to a hospital complex lately? In Houston, they are constantly building them or upgrading them. They are beautiful. But the health care they provide sucks your wealth and our tax dollars. It is an evil enterprise.

I owned a software development company. I have always carried my own private insurance with very high deductibles, copays, and premiums. I could afford it then but understood why a large portion of Americans not getting employer health care had to go without. If I added all the premiums I’ve paid over the years, I have paid out many times more than I received in services. Theoretically, that is okay. In pure insurance parlance, they bet you will not get sick enough to be a risk to them and you bet the converse. And if you lose you win because you are marginally healthy at least.

Our economic system attempts to make everything a product. The thing is, most products are real choices. Basic healthcare isn’t. You break a leg, you cannot easily shop around. You get cancer, in a humane system, you would not forego care because you cannot afford it. In fact, that statement alone is immoral. It degrades into an ability to pay to help end suffering and/or death. An economic system in a civilized society should be based on everyone having basic health care as a part of said system. Roads are not an afterthought. They are necessary for a functioning society. We have a tendency to have an economic system that reveres capital and penalizes humanity. This touches everyone if they live a full life in the long run.

It was about 1:30 PM on Christmas day. All of our family started arriving for our 2 PM meal. Linda, my wife, set the time. Everyone knows whether you are present or not, dinner service will begin. This Christmas would be different and it is life changing.

While I was taking a shower, Linda ran into the bathroom. “My mother is not talking, and her mouth is twisted to one side,” she said. “I am calling 9-1-1.”

Granny was sitting on the couch catatonic. By the time I got to the room, my daughter who was home for her breakshe is a third-year med studentwas already doing pupil dilation tests and some other stuff. She looked at me with grave concern. “Yes, Dad,” she said. “It is a stroke. A bad one.”

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