The price of health

It’s been a long sixteen hours in my family. Our scenario isn’t unique, sure. But… no matter how many times it is replicated, the pain is fresh and raw. The decisions seem impossible. The coping is a struggle. 

One of those changes that occurs within an unexpected flash. A dog was curious to revisit a piece of roadkill from which she was shooed away. She went in the midst of a dark, snowy, icy night. Someone didn’t see her, hit her, and drove away. She was old and already weathering the damage of time. But this accelerated it by leaps and bounds. A fractured leg. On a spastic Lab mix, that’s a big deal, even in her old age. But as the screening indicates the potential of another life threatening circumstance, it puts that old age into a lot of perspective. Especially when the pricetag to repair starts to accumulate.

My parents didn’t buy insurance for their dog. I don’t know what price difference that would equal. But the fact is, a life decision had to be made because of the cost of her healthcare. Now… look, I’m not living in a vacuum. I know that the vet hospital is not a free service charity. They have to pay for bandages, the hours of their well educated techs, the film for the x-rays, the pills from the pharmaceuticals. I know those techs have to pay off loans. I know they give a lot to their jobs. I know the drug companies need to attract skilled scientists and pay for the equipment on which they create the pills to soothe the pain.

The expense makes some sort of sense. 

And it’s different with a dog. These decisions have a different weight than with, say, a child or a grandparent. No one is going to even consider such finality when Grandma breaks a hip. Even if the cost breaks the bank.

I know I have a lot of sorrow fueling my anger right now… but I had a lengthy drive to and from central MA tonight… thinking about how difficult these life and death decisions are about a dog. Having to choose between life and debt. Having to decide what is the right decision in precious moments. It is horrible to have to make that choice over a pet – that in many instances is like a child. But, about a person? Would we do that?

Um… you know what? We do.

I hear the pundits declaring that our president should focus all his attention on jobs right now. Maybe… maybe. But… what if you don’t have a job? And something like this… a sudden accident occurs… and there is a choice of options for remedy based on the pocket book? What if you had to make that decision for a loved one? Could you? Would you? Or would you just accept the debt? Even if the remedy wasn’t a guarantee.

Why should you, why should I, why should ANYONE have to make that choice?

Okay. Again. I understand that there are expenses that must be paid. For bandages. For film. For doctors to repay their student loans and their mortgages and their BMW upgrade. For the pill manufacturers to reward their scientists with retreats and lobster dinners and open bars. For all the paper and filing and red tape. That stuff doesn’t just happen. Someone has to pay for it, right? So get insurance. Yeah… I have it. Maybe you have it. But you know what… not everyone has it.

It was so difficult to have that decision in my family today. To have to choose between the billing and the life. For a dog. I can’t imagine having to face that as a parent. Or a child. Or a sibling. Or a lover. Why… why are we turning such a cold shoulder on these people? Because of abortion? Because of socialism? Because of partisanship? Because Obama is a terrorist born in Africa? WTF people? Why would your heart let anyone have to suffer this choice?

When did health care stop meaning care? When did it just become health business?