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There is a new senator in Massachusetts. He is Republican. It hasn’t happened since 1972. Martha Coakley was supposed to be a sure thing. She wasn’t. I have been trying to figure out what I think about this. I posted something about it on Facebook and thought it was interesting to see my friends–some extremely conservative, some much, much more liberal–line up on opposite sides of the fence. Apparently, either Coakley’s defeat and Brown’s election is an answer to prayer or it is a sign that we didn’t pray hard enough.
I find that I am not of one mind. I can’t celebrate the election of someone who supports waterboarding as an interrogation technique and opposes a path to citizenship for illegal immigrants. It is hard to feel happy to see the chances for more Americans to enjoy health coverage decrease. On the other hand, I didn’t like the looks of the “reform” bills coming out of the House and Senate. While these bills accomplished things that were important to me, (for example, no denials based on pre-existing conditions and healthcare extended to more people) they seemed to do it the wrong way. Where are the promised cost savings? How will these plans be sustainable in the long term given ever rising medical costs? How will we pay for it? I am frightened and appalled by our massive debt and deficits.
Unfortunately, the healthcare reform I favor–public option and rationing at a minimum and hopes for single payer in the future–isn’t politically possible. The question becomes: if we can’t do healthcare right, is it best to do it wrong and try to fix things later or is it better to stick with the status quo? Without healthcare coverage, many Americans are suffering greatly today. With massive debt and a messed up health care system, we will all suffer in the future. Being realistic about what is possible politically, which way is best? I don’t know. That’s why I don’t know what to think about Scott Brown.
I do know that I was surprised to see the citizens of Massachusetts ( supposedly a U.S. model for universal healthcare coverage) vote as they did. I need to learn more about why.
I am a latecomer to blood donation . I regret this. I have always wanted to be a person who donated blood. The 4th grade teacher I idolized, Mr. Dunkley, took us on a fieldtrip to the hospital and donated blood before our eyes. He was so noble! so brave! I wanted to be like him. Later, in high school, Hawkeye Pierce and the gang, my M*A*S*H friends, were always ready to lie down and pull up their sleeves when someone needed them–and someone often did.
Well, I don’t live in a war zone, but the Red Cross tells me that every 2 seconds in the United States someone needs blood. I can donate as often as every 56 days, but my blood’s shelf life is only 42 days. In fact, last year a study suggested that patients who are transfused with blood older than 28 days are more likely to suffer infections. So, the fresher the blood, the better. That means the more donors the better. The difficult part is that donors are hard to get. Less than 38% of the U.S. population is eligible to donate blood. Of those eligible, most don’t donate. There are a lot of us who are squeamish and afraid of needles!
But if you are someone who can donate, consider the cancer patients, the new mothers, the car accident victims, etc., who may need your blood. Some day you could be the one who needs blood or your mom, sister or daughter, your dad, your brother, your boss, or your best friend. Or several of you. One thing is almost certain: if you can donate regularly, you will help people. The need for transfusions is rising 6% every year, and the number of donations isn’t rising that fast. We hope for artificial blood, but it’s still a hope for the future. Today what’s true is that if you can donate blood, YOU ARE NEEDED. If you can’t donate, you can help by volunteering, organizing a blood drive, or my personal favorite: babysitting for someone who wants to donate! (The donation process takes almost an hour start to finish and no one wants to take small children to a blood donation center).
I don’t know if she actually did; I couldn’t see. But Pdad thought so. After she got Kate’s IV in, I did hear her say several times, “That’s why I’m an adult nurse!” I think she actually did a great job. The IV went in on the first try. We all held our breath–last week Kate had to be pricked a third time after a vein collapsed, so we didn’t want to tell her that it was over and she was done, until it was over and she was done. But the vein performed and the test continued.
The nurse was under pressure. Kate is young (not yet three) and little. We had mentioned last week’s three tries with the IV. It seemed like a whole room of people was looking on. I couldn’t have put a needle into Kate, but the nurse’s tenderness still surprised me. None of us want to hurt a defenseless little person who has to trust us.
At an earlier point yesterday, the lights were off, the high tech monitor was on, and the specialist studied it. I lay next to Clara in the bed, trying to give comfort with my presence and my touch, wishing I could see, but knowing that I wouldn’t be able to understand anything I saw. Pdad and the two technicians watched the specialist. I could see her face as she studied the monitor. I wondered if she would be able to see what she needed to. I wondered whether she would be distracted by all of us watching her. I wondered if she would have to order further, more traumatic tests to be able to see better. I wondered if Kate would have to be sedated again today, whether it was truly safe, and whether we were making the right choices for her. As the specialist silently scanned the screen, I wondered whether she had the ability and the experience to make the right call. I had never met her before that morning; she seemed both competent and compassionate, but I didn’t yet know if she deserved my trust.
The day before, our pediatrician had called me from home on his day off to recommend these tests. I was baffled. Our medical odyssey began with the intermittent tremor we noticed in Kate’s hands and arms. Last week the focus was her brain. Thankfully, the MRI didn’t reveal any obvious bleeds or tumors. So why were we now looking at an echocardiogram of her heart? The pediatrician had a difficult task. He wanted to reduce my anxiety by explaining that there was no cause for concern and that the tests likely wouldn’t reveal anything that wasn’t normal. At the same time, he wanted to communicate urgency for performing the tests. The contradiction gave me anxiety.
A too-brief midday conversation with Pdad confirmed our shared mental status. The pediatrician wants more tests. Are we certain that seeking more medical intervention and study is the best course for our daughter? No. Are we certain that it isn’t? No. Do we trust that our pediatrician knows the best way to proceed? No. Do we trust that he cares about her and wants what is best for her? Yes. Do we trust him and go forward? . . . ?
It is curious to me how our situation as parents in the hands of the medical system mirrors Kate’s. To a degree, we are helpless. We can only trust or not trust. Our situation is different than Kate’s though, in that we know a little more, and we have the aching burden of decision by proxy. Perhaps that nurse could shed a few tears for us too. Perhaps she already did.
P.S., Kate’s heart looks great! It is normal and healthy. There are no holes. She was very brave in getting her IV and was miraculously cooperative and even sleepy through all the procedures which allowed her to avoid sedation. We appreciate your prayers. We are very thankful for good test results so far. The plan now is to simply wait for our appointment with a pediatric neurologist near the end of January. The good test results have done nothing to explain her tremor, so the mystery and a reasonable dose of anxiety continues.
The line for the H1N1 Vaccine at the Health Department wrapped around the block this morning. I was stunned. They started administering the vaccine at 9, and we got there by 10. I wanted to get my kids vaccinated, but we had to leave because we hadn’t dressed warmly enough to spend an hour or more (probably a lot more!) in the cold! I hope to go back tomorrow or later day, but given the line I saw, I suspect they will have run out of vaccine again by then. I wonder which is riskier: waiting in that huge crowd of people with so many young children or not getting the vaccine?
Daily Herald Photo--Line for Vaccine in front of Health Department
Given my recent interest in pandemics, I have become convinced of the importance of vaccines. I have been dismayed to see so much Facebook chatter about people afraid of and avoiding the vaccine. It is true that H1N1 is often mild. It is true that people with pre-existing medical conditions are often the ones who get in trouble. But it has also killed otherwise healthy people. However mild, it is a pandemic and most of us will be exposed. Getting the vaccine can help us stop the spread, it’s that simple.
On the other hand, I don’t think I’m ready to wait in that block long line . . .
Updated to Add:
Don’t miss this really helpful info about the vaccine:
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/10/10/health/10primer.html?_r=1
Cold Sore Report Day 8. This week I attended PTA meeting and a church social, taught Sunday School and hosted an extended family dinner, all with a huge unsightly (and painful!) lesion. Bravery. I managed to avoid commenting on it at those venues, so I am now taking out that pent up desire on my blog readers. The Mayo Clinic claims these last 7-10 days. From the looks of things today, this one may take longer than 10 to heal.
Fun fact: People with cold sores do not need to throw away their lip balm or lipstick. According to the Lawrence Gibson of the Mayo Clinic, after having just one episode of cold sores, the virus “lies dormant in the nerve cells in your skin.” The bad news is, once you get the virus, you have it for the rest of your life. The good news is, since you are already infected, “you can’t reinfect yourself with your own lipstick or lip balm.” Just don’t share with anyone else!
Canker Sore: In other news, I recently took Duncan for an emergency visit to the dentist. He had a white patch on his gumline that was really hurting. I felt foolish for the visit when they identified the patch as a canker sore. Apparently, if a white patch is close to the teeth it could be an abcessed tooth (which would be a big deal), but if it is closer to the top of the gum it is a canker sore. Canker sores are not a big deal, but they feel like a big deal! I did not know that you could get canker sores on the gum area, I thought they were always limited to the cheek or tongue. Nope. Anyway, Zilactin and a little sympathetic attention from the hygienist appeared to cure Duncan of everything that ailed him. He hasn’t complained about the sore since.
Self-Deceived
I was craving something healthy. I’d spent the past few days silently snitching bits of birthday chocolate all day long. I can easily go a few days on cold cereal, yogurt, and chocolate, but then I wake up: What am I doing to my body?! Today was one of those waking days. So, despite it already being 6 p.m., and despite an evening of single-parenting ahead of me (attn ax-murderers: Pdad’s flight should land within the hour) I decided I HAD to make real food or perish.
It went surprisingly well. Duncan played sweetly with Kate. (Do you hear the choir of angels singing? I hope so, because it was a miracle). Amelia worked on her homework. I cooked. I made bistro salad–the number one best way to consume lettuce. It was past kid bedtime before we all finally sat down at the table. They hadn’t killed each other and I’d managed to keep them from spoiling their dinner or having hypoglycemic meltdowns with some carefully timed snacks. It was a good moment.
I said the blessing on the food. With great sincerity, I thanked Heavenly Father that we could sit down together and eat “real,” “healthy” food. I finished the blessing and picked up my fork. Amelia looked at me quizzically: “Why did you say that about healthy food in the prayer? Is Boursin cheese healthy?”
She got me!
For the uninitiated: Bistro Salad is mesclun mix coated generously with a thyme-mustard vinaigrette–plenty of oil, topped by bacon and eggs, and with a side of Boursin toasts. Healthy? On balance, probably not. Delicious: Oh yeah!
Question: If one only enjoys vegetables prepared in artery-clogging ways, is it still better to eat vegetables than not to eat vegetables?
Just in time for the waning days of summer, Duncan’s molluscum contagiosum has finally completely healed. I am so thankful. It has been an ordeal. He now has the all clear from Mom to wear shorts.
*Things to be thankful for:
1. While getting molluscum isn’t that great, it isn’t small pox.
2. After 4 months, the molluscum is finally gone.
3. Molluscum leaves no scars.
4. A healthy little body, and beautiful healthy skin.
5. Shorts for Duncan!
6. Dresses for Kate!
7. Kate can occasionally run clothing free (as 2 year olds are wont to do) without worrying Mom so much.
8. No more worry about accidentally infecting someone.
9. No more bandaids.
10. No need for Duncan to wear a swim shirt to the indoor pool.
11. No more wondering what treatments we should have tried.
12. No more excessive laundry. No more fresh pajamas every day of the week.
*I wouldn’t be Pmom if I didn’t feel compelled to reassure those of you who live nearby that we tried to act responsibly with Duncan during this ordeal. According to the CDC , there is no reason to isolate children with Molluscum from others at school or in the swimming pool. In fact, it is estimated that up to 10% of children will have Molluscum–but most, I trust, do not have it to the degree Duncan did.
P.S. If you are a hapless internet searcher looking for advice because this plague has struck your household, my advice is the following [the rest of you need to avert your eyes]:
Robin asked what I think of mandatory health insurance. My reply was so lengthy that I decided to copy it here.
Mandatory health insurance is important.
1) All of us who have health insurance and all of us who seek treatment at the hospital are subsidizing those who do not have insurance–regardless of whether they’ve chosen to spend their money on other things or if they simply couldn’t afford it. We aren’t talking about pennies. This is subsidy on a grand scale. However, it isn’t a logical and carefully targeted subsidy. (If I end up in the hospital this year and you don’t, does it make sense that I should take a greater share of subsidizing the insuranceless than you should, just because you happened to avoid the hospital this year? No.)
2) We should provide a basic level of health care for everyone. It is a shame for a nation with the resources ours has not to provide a basic level of health care for its people. Without health, it is difficult to pursue happiness and it is also difficult to contribute to society.
3) If we do provide basic health care to everyone, then everyone should help bear the costs. No young, “I feel immortal,” risk-taking freeloaders allowed. Because the fact is, we don’t want to leave even young and stupid, risk-taking freeloaders to suffer, taking their potential with them, if a basic level of health care could allow us to avoid that.
4) Therefore, if we continue under the current insurance-based system (as it now seems obvious we will) everyone should be required to carry insurance. Unfortunately, we will have to figure out how to help many people pay for this, because we can’t require insurance if it means people end up going without their groceries to pay for it. But how to pay for those more explicit subsidies is another bucket of worms . . .
Other recent C&G posts about health care:
American Health Care (the comments are worth reading also)
Sketchy Thoughts on Health Care
Did you write your senators and congressperson yet?
Don’t put it off. It is fun and the health care issue is worth it. Start by finding out what your representatives believe about health care already. Just google the name of your senator or the name of your state and the word “senator.” The official websites will pop right up. Usually, there is an “issues” tab. Read all about it! What is your man or woman in Washington up to? What does he or she have to say about health care? Do you agree or disagree? Or do you need to learn more before you can decide?
My congressperson is, in my humble opinion, a conservative loon. And I say this as a person who is in many respects conservative (true, despite my surprising advocacy for single payer health care). I wrote to ask him why health care wasn’t even listed as one of the issues on his website. I had to recheck that just now to make sure it was true. Yep, no health care under the issues tab. Wow. So I sent him an e-mail asking him why it isn’t there. No response so far. But my conscience felt unburdened. I gave him some reasons why a conservative ought to support health care reform (see this article on why health insurance should not be tied to employment). I let him know that amongst his conservative constituency, there are plenty of us who care about health care and would like him to tune in.
The importance of health care is difficult to overstate. Lives, health, happiness, the budget, and our children’s future is at stake. Even though I don’t delude myself in thinking that a stray e-mail will change a senator or congressperson’s vote, I still want to be counted. I want my representatives to know the views of the people they represent, including me. I want them to know that their citizen constituency is paying attention. Lobbyists have their place. But it is wrong if the only people our representatives hear from are AMA, health insurance industry and pharmaceutical lobbyists. They need to hear from us too. If it makes sense to vote, it makes sense to spend 5 minutes e-mailing your representative. Do it now!
I am suffering from brain block. My brain block started with the desire to write something super comprehensive and well-informed about health care. But that isn’t possible right now.
So instead, here is what I’ve figured out so far: a) I support a public plan (But it does matter what the details are. There are a lot of ways a public plan could go wrong and then it would be worse to have one than not to have one) for exactly the reason its enemies are against it. A public plan could get us closer to single payer.
Unfortunately, a public plan is probably off the table, politically speaking. Single Payer (my true ideal) is definitely off the table. (If single payer scares you, consider that–as others have pointed out–Medicare, for all its warts and it has them!, is a public plan where the government is the single payer. Consider where our elderly population was before Medicare. Do you want to rewind? I don’t.)
So–
Despite current political realities (single payer and public plan being on hold), I still believe we must do something about health care and soon. But if the number crunchers who studied the plan currently on the table in Congress are trustworthy, and there really is no cost savings (!) from the plan they’ve been considering, then we can’t go with that plan. No cost savings = disaster. We can’t move forward until we figure out how to pay for this. We need to cut health care costs and find additional sources of revenue to pay for it.
I’m not sure what we should do instead of what is currently on the table given that there is no public appetite for the best fixes. The health care coops might work–depending on the details, of course.
So, I am still reading and thinking about health care and probably will be for a long time.
Health Care Reading Recommendation: I found the material on health care at FreshThinking.org super helpful. I especially appreciated their links to the articles on Why Tie Health Insurance to a Job? in the Wall Street Journal and the article in the Washington Post on the 5 Myths about our Ailing Health Care System.