Good column...I hope it makes people who want a public health care option think twice...
This column really hit home for me, because I am a father of a child (also the line about clutching a rosary also hits home for obvious reasons) and I hope I never have to go through the hell of having my child diagnosed with a possible cancer. If we had a public health care option, and God Forbid if something happened to Lily, would my little angel be given the care she needs, or will she be not judged worthy and made to die? Think about that if you had a child of your own.
But anyway, the column is good and should make you think. Read and reply.
Somedays:
The Tears Wiped Dry
by Albert Paschall,
Senior Commentator, Lincoln Institute
Ever spent time in hell? Not Dante's kind of inferno, the kind that exists all over this country - pediatric oncology wards.
This hell is full of contrasts. The devil is the disease, the gatekeepers are the angels. The doctors and nurses are real archangel warriors that have to be soft on the outside and hard as granite inside.
Over a decade ago I was summoned to a local hospital and saw the x-rays that absolutely determined that my youngest son had a large tumor growing between his heart and lungs. Arrangements were made for emergency surgery at a nearby university hospital.
The pathos that surrounds a children's cancer ward is the ultimate irony. It's the artificial smiles and laughter of parents and staff. It's the little girl in the waiting room describing the radiation marks on her bald head with the same demeanor she used to pull crayons out of a box while her mother clutches a rosary as if it is her only ticket out of this technological Hades.
There isn't an experience that can describe giving permission for surgeons to crack open your son's chest as if it were a hard-shell crab on a slab. The agony of the night before, until the relief at dawn when a young, cocky oncologist comes in and says: "maybe we don't need to operate, let's try some other tests."
Lots of testing later proves the original diagnosis wrong. No cancer, no surgery and a reprieve from the agonies of 100 other children in that ward. When the kids weren't looking, you could see the tortured misery in their parents' eyes. There's a shadow of guilt as you pack to leave. What gives you the right?
One never forgets this experience. The memories weigh like rocks in the darkest bowels of the mind. After 12 years I can still see, smell, here and feel the fear in that ward.
Those rocks came tumbling out as I listened to President Obama trying to sell Congress his national health care plan.
Back then had his plan been the law of the land would a committee have decided if my boy got sent to the university hospital? Would those that were politically wired get more favorable decisions? Would the university hospital have admitted him if it didn't accept our insurance? Would 'duplicative diagnostic processes' have prevented that young doctor from performing additional tests? If the surgery had proceeded and my boy were maimed would I have had the right to sue?
Would that young doctor, who spared my boy invasive surgery, possibly saving his life, have had the temerity to pursue a pediatric oncology career if the government was going to dictate how much he could earn and where he could practice?
Congress had a real laugh when the president said there were a few details to be worked out in his national health care plan. The small ones are the devils. Estimates are that last year there were nearly 130, 000 cases of pediatric cancer diagnosed in this country. One wonders if the parents of those kids enjoyed the same chuckle.
Someday if we allow our health care to be nationalized it's going to be all about statistics, bureaucrats, and formulas. Statistics all too often are human beings without the tears. If nationalized health care is enacted who will wipe them dry?
Albert Paschall
Senior Fellow
The Lincoln Institute of Public Opinion Research, Inc.
somedays@lincolninstitute.org
But anyway, the column is good and should make you think. Read and reply.
Somedays:
The Tears Wiped Dry
by Albert Paschall,
Senior Commentator, Lincoln Institute
Ever spent time in hell? Not Dante's kind of inferno, the kind that exists all over this country - pediatric oncology wards.
This hell is full of contrasts. The devil is the disease, the gatekeepers are the angels. The doctors and nurses are real archangel warriors that have to be soft on the outside and hard as granite inside.
Over a decade ago I was summoned to a local hospital and saw the x-rays that absolutely determined that my youngest son had a large tumor growing between his heart and lungs. Arrangements were made for emergency surgery at a nearby university hospital.
The pathos that surrounds a children's cancer ward is the ultimate irony. It's the artificial smiles and laughter of parents and staff. It's the little girl in the waiting room describing the radiation marks on her bald head with the same demeanor she used to pull crayons out of a box while her mother clutches a rosary as if it is her only ticket out of this technological Hades.
There isn't an experience that can describe giving permission for surgeons to crack open your son's chest as if it were a hard-shell crab on a slab. The agony of the night before, until the relief at dawn when a young, cocky oncologist comes in and says: "maybe we don't need to operate, let's try some other tests."
Lots of testing later proves the original diagnosis wrong. No cancer, no surgery and a reprieve from the agonies of 100 other children in that ward. When the kids weren't looking, you could see the tortured misery in their parents' eyes. There's a shadow of guilt as you pack to leave. What gives you the right?
One never forgets this experience. The memories weigh like rocks in the darkest bowels of the mind. After 12 years I can still see, smell, here and feel the fear in that ward.
Those rocks came tumbling out as I listened to President Obama trying to sell Congress his national health care plan.
Back then had his plan been the law of the land would a committee have decided if my boy got sent to the university hospital? Would those that were politically wired get more favorable decisions? Would the university hospital have admitted him if it didn't accept our insurance? Would 'duplicative diagnostic processes' have prevented that young doctor from performing additional tests? If the surgery had proceeded and my boy were maimed would I have had the right to sue?
Would that young doctor, who spared my boy invasive surgery, possibly saving his life, have had the temerity to pursue a pediatric oncology career if the government was going to dictate how much he could earn and where he could practice?
Congress had a real laugh when the president said there were a few details to be worked out in his national health care plan. The small ones are the devils. Estimates are that last year there were nearly 130, 000 cases of pediatric cancer diagnosed in this country. One wonders if the parents of those kids enjoyed the same chuckle.
Someday if we allow our health care to be nationalized it's going to be all about statistics, bureaucrats, and formulas. Statistics all too often are human beings without the tears. If nationalized health care is enacted who will wipe them dry?
Albert Paschall
Senior Fellow
The Lincoln Institute of Public Opinion Research, Inc.
somedays@lincolninstitute.org