Universal healthcare as a talent incubator

While we're shooting the shite on health care, let me highlight this idea that Tim dropped into the comments section of the previous post. Universal healthcare can allow people to fully develop their talents and interests, enriching the whole society. Per science-fiction author Robert J. Sawyer:

At the Library of Congress, I was asked why there are so many significant Canadian SF writers, and I’ll repeat the answer I gave there. Canadian socialized medicine means that many of us were able to become full-timers at younger ages; I’ve been a full-time freelance writer since 1983, the year I turned 23. So, one perhaps sees Canadians doing better, more important work earlier in their careers, and being more prolific, as well, because they can devote full-time efforts to it, rather than having to be shackled to a a nine-to-five just so they and their kids will get to see a doctor routinely.

My country does a lot to support the arts but the health-insurance system is single greatest advantage Canadian artists have. [emphasis mine]

How would American cultural life be if so many of our talented and creative people weren't worn out by their day jobs with benefits? Would vapid, commando starlets still rule our cultural discourse, or could we become a culture defined by ideas instead of the easy sell? What would you do if you didn't owe your health to your employer, or if you had access to the health care you can't get now?

Any other potential upsides to national healthcare you can suggest? And feel free to suggest your ideal health care setup here.

A vision of health

My chickens eat fire ants, and the Senate subpoenaed Cheney's office. Anything seems possible this evening so I ask you: What would your ideal national health care plan look like? Who would it cover? What would it cover? How would we pay for it? Who would administer it?

I'll go first with a rough outline: I would like to see universal health care, not just universal insurance coverage. It would cover anyone who needed care -- yes, that includes the "illegal" workers without which our economy would collapse. We would pay for it through payroll deductions, which would be offset for many workers by the disappearance of health-care premium deductions. I'd much rather have the government run the thing than allow the for-profit health-insurance companies to have a role. They would game the new system and bring it down.

Whither the big insurance companies? I imagine the people actually doing the work could find jobs in what would be a pretty big federal program to administer health care. As for the upper management and executives, I think they should all be thoroughly investigated and tried when necessary. Imagine the money that hospitals and practices would save by not having to devote employee time to hounding the insurance companies. Hell, imagine how layperson productivity would go up, between getting actual care and not having to fight the insurance companies every step of the way.

While I'm at it, in my medical utopia drug prices would be regulated, there would be a national push to speed up and streamline the digitizing of medical info, and it would be illegal for doctors or pharmacists to refuse treatment to women based on their "religious beliefs."

For me the thorny issue is what would be covered. Obviously, standard, up-to-date medical, dental and mental health (which, when I rule the world, will simply be considered part of medical care) are in. How much complementary and alternative therapy would Americans be willing to support? How should those treatments be evaluated?

Anyway, yep, our taxes would go up. That's fine with me*, because every last person in the country would be getting something in return -- a guarantee of health care. As commenter Mary J said in the "Sicko" thread, "every single person in canada (and especially) quebec saved my life. and they saved more than my life, they saved me from total financial ruin." We really should be able to say that about our country, too.

Tell me, if you ran the circus, what would American health care look like?




*I hereby recognize my privilege with respect to taxes. What about those for whom extra taxes could be a hardship? Would the benefits outweigh the added expense?

Not to change the subject

I want to explore some of the comments on "Sicko" when I'm rested. For now, lookit, bunny! I nearly tripped over two cottontail rabbits during my morning runs last week. Between the mild spring and all the rain this was probably inevitable:

Luckily for everyone, the kids were asleep when the bunny arrived.

My next-door neighbor brought me this wee bun tonight after her cat carried it in from the backyard. My first reaction was, Awww, baby bunny, followed shortly by, Oh, crap, baby bunny! What me do? I fired off a panicked email to everyone I could think of soliciting tiny-wild-animal advice. Then Hombre and I fought over who got to hold it. Hombre won after a red tick crawled off the little gal onto my arm.

Soon the cuteshock wore off, and my brain kicked in. Because Jinny recently asked me about the baby cottontail she found, I recalled a link at the House Rabbit Society about wild buns. Bottom line, this critter seemed in good health (amazing since she'd been between cat jaws), well fed, and at least a couple of weeks old. She needed her mama, who was probably looking for her for their nightly five-minute nursing session*. She needed to go back to her nest area, which I am almost certain is behind my back fence, near a creek and a stand of tall grass I'd never been in until tonight.

Note the torso/leg ratio here.

Neighbor and I stashed all assorted cats and dogs indoors, and off I went. Did I feel conflicted and awful taking a palm-sized rabbit out into the night where snakes and owls and roaming pets wander? Oddly, no. I figured she needed her littermates and mother more than she needed to be fawned over by me and Hombre. I put her down in the tall grass near where my neighbor and I had seen one of the big cottontails recently. She hopped off as if she had some idea where she was going. Godspeed, tiny rabbit. May you grow large and strong and not trip me when I go running.


*Yep, according to the House Rabbit Society, rabbits nurse their young five minutes daily. As a chronic lactator, I'm awed and a little jealous.

It's Monday. What is the children learning?

Check out scientist Stephen Oppenheimer's groovy map of the history of human migration from Africa to the rest of the planet. It dovetails nicely with our pre-history studies and with a documentary called "The Real Eve," based on Oppenheimer's work, which traces the history of human settlement by mitochondrial DNA analysis.

Sick, indeed

Dru and I saw "Sicko" last night. The theater was packed. I was ready for a pointed, snarky exposé on American health care and I got it. But what I didn't expect was how angry and deeply heartsick I felt at the end.

"Sicko" is about the ugliest part of the American ethos: As a nation, we allow our own people suffer and die to protect corporate profits. Not soldiers, not foreigners (although we do a bang-up job on them, too) but kids and old people and everyone in between. Imagine "The Lottery" with a denial-of-coverage statement instead of a black dot on that fateful piece of paper. Aging parents lose their homes; a father wastes away for lack of cancer treatment; a toddler dies because her mother took her to the 'wrong' hospital. And those are the people with health insurance. Indigent patients are whisked out of for-profit ERs and shoved out of cabs near homeless shelters, still wearing hospital gowns.

If ever there were an argument against letting the invisible hand of the market govern healthcare, this is it. Dead, under-treated and bankrupt patients make happy investors, although most wouldn't admit to such a direct connection. But Moore shows that insurers are actively out to kick people off their books and talks to people who have helped make that happen. That's the part that shocked me, that insurers really aren't just being obtuse or disorganized. They deliberately deny care because paying out hurts their bottom line. How could I have been so naïve?

I've been around the healthcare block. When my middle son was stillborn, my then-insurer retroactively refused to pay for my pregnancy care. It took months -- months when I should have been focused on recovering from the worst experience of my life -- of detective work and increasingly belligerent contact to get them to cough up those four thousand dollars. When a close relative suffered a stroke, I took him to the ER and had to deal with the cashier. I was devastated that this person I loved was suffering and possibly permanently damaged, and the hospital wanted its money -- now -- because there was a problem with his insurance. A friend in labor was detained by her obstetrician's office staff while en route to the delivery room because they said she owed money. It turned out to be a miscommunication with the insurance company. Uh-huh.

When I grouse, someone is always happy to pipe up and remind me how lucky I am to have health insurance at all and I should be grateful. But when Moore showed off the Canadian, British, French and Cuban health care systems, I didn't feel grateful. I felt scammed.

I'm sure their systems of care have drawbacks that Moore omits* but I'm also pretty sure that no one in England has to choose based on cost which severed finger to have reattached, as happened to one American Moore interviews. Watching a broke, chronically ill 9/11 rescuer weep when she finds her $120 medication for sale in a Cuban pharmacy for 5 cents American, I was furious. We've been told our system has to be the way it is. It doesn't. And by the measures that matter -- overall quality of health, infant mortality and longevity -- it shouldn't be the way it is. These other countries surpass us in those areas. Worse, they get to claim the moral high ground by taking care of their sick even if they're poor, which is one of those Christian ideals our politicians are always going on about.

Moore makes a good case for single-payer health coverage, but there's a lot of insurance and pharma money pouring into politics to prevent that from happening. And there are still too many people holding the "got mine, screw you" view of the world, failing to realize that we're all subsidizing healthcare anyway when hospitals raise rates to make up for indigent care in the ER. It would make more sense to pay up front for preventive care for everyone, and it would be the right thing to do. The questions "Sicko" left me with are will we do it, and if not what kind of people are we?

*Update/lagniappe: Catherine Arnst at BusinessWeek reports that American patients' wait times are as bad or worse than most other industrialized nations:

Of the countries surveyed, 81% of patients in New Zealand got a same or next-day appointment for a nonroutine visit, 71% in Britain, 69% in Germany, 66% in Australia, 47% in the U.S., and 36% in Canada. Those lengthy wait times in the U.S. explain why 26% of Americans reported going to an emergency room for a condition that could have been treated by a regular doctor if available, higher than every other country surveyed.

Arnst also highlights the area in which USA is #1 -- the percentage of patients who simply skipped getting medical care they needed because of the cost.

Danger: caution ahead

I saw a bumper sticker on an SUV the other day that made me laugh with disbelief: "What part of 'The Terrorists Want to Kill Us' don't you understand, moron?" Seriously, it ended with 'moron.' So things came full circle.

I laughed because here was someone who is so afraid of terrorists that she's willing to insult random fellow motorists, driving a rollover-prone vehicle on a rain-slicked Austin freeway during morning rush hour in a hellacious thunderstorm. Flawed risk analysis, anyone?

I couldn't believe it because I can't imagine being so clueless yet so afraid. What good could possibly come of living in fear of things beyond your control?

Pal MoxyJane wants to know, too:

A few weeks ago, I was hanging out with the kids in front of Whole Earth Provisions. There were two hammocks hung up outside the store's entrance and we had stopped to give them a whirl. While waiting her turn, GemSprightly amused herself by turning a few cartwheels on the sidewalk. A man walking by commented, "Be careful!" Being the rabble-raiser that I am, I asked, "What does she need to be careful of?"

There's his answer, and then there's her response. I'd rather live her answer than his.

No eggs yet

The eggs will be brought to your table shortly.

Every day is Easter as we wait for pullet puberty to arrive. The garden is keeping me busy, though. I'm starting to get the first 'Cherokee' purple tomatoes; they're nice and chunky. My goal is to never let them see the inside of the refrigerator.* I got some great sweet corn, the banana peppers are doing well, and we're still getting a few strawberries. The 'Royal Burgundy' bush beans are still producing, and I got a nice little haul of black beans, too. We would have an impressive yellow cherry tomato harvest, but Hurricanehead eats most of them before he gets from the garden to the back door.

Neutron (l) and Wanda on bug patrol

The garden is a big deal for Hurricanehead. He goes "harvesting" every morning after breakfast. He's surprisingly good at telling which things are ripe and which aren't, although he does have a fondness for picking microscopic beans. After harvest time, we have "camp" to ease the pain and envy that naturally come with Rocketboy being at camp all day. The format is always the same: I take Hurricanehead to a great park and then we go eat. So far this week he's been treated to scones, soul food and a peanut-butter cookie the size of his face. Tomorrow there's a new Italian place I want to try. Friday, maybe Greek. I like camp.


* When I rule the world, it will be a felony to refrigerate tomatoes; it does evil things to their flavor.

Taggage

While I recover from getting Rocketboy off to his first day of camp, here's a blog-meme roundup.

The Historianess has bestowed the Thinking Blogger award on me. I'm honored and happy to pass it along by listing five of the blogs that make me think:

• At the top of the list is Superbabymama. She tells it like it is, in a style that's beautifully clear. And she's about to begin a homeschooling adventure with her daughter.
• The Texas Observer blog covered the recent Lege session in high style, and continues to pop out with good posts now that the lawmakers have cleared out.
• Natalie Bennett at Philobiblon, the woman behind the Carnival of Feminists, writes with brevity and clarity about Green politics, cycling, women's history and feminist news.
• The Eide Neurolearning Blog is all about the brain. Their Care of Young Engineers post has become a staple of my free-range learning resources.
• JoVE at Tricotomania makes me think not only about learning outside of school but also about knitting and spinning.

Editor Mom wants to know Eight Random Things About Me. Well,

(1) I have a three-year old son who recently scaled back to sleeping almost eight hours out of every 24. This means that
(2) I get talked to about monsters and sharks for approximately eleven hours and nineteen minutes per day and
(3) I'm stupid tired. Sometimes when I get like this I
(4) fantasize about having my own personal Cone of Silence that I could slip into and appear to be listening while instead thinking my own uninterrupted thoughts. This is why, although I enjoy both monster-shark stories and Hurricanehead's company I am
(5) soon taking my first solo vacation in more than eight years. During that time I plan to
(6) continue the 5K training I've been doing on the downlow so as not to jinx it again and
(7) spend a lot of time in the water. Now I must wrap this up so I can
(8) finish knitting a baby sweater for the Dulaan Project (.pdf) and get it in the mail in time for this year's shipment.

So who makes you think? Got some random facts? Have at it in the comments.

Remodeling

Of the three contractors I've contacted so far about our Bathroom of the Damned, I've heard from two. One emailed to say he would call, the other said he was booked solid and good luck. In the meantime I found something I could remodel myself without making a mess, and you're looking at it. Enjoy!

Birdweek

I've been up to my knees in chickens all week. I am now the proud owner of two laying pullets rechristened Wanda and Neutron by the kids. Guess which one Rocketboy named? Did I feel silly cradling a chicken in my arms and cooing, "You're a sweet girl, Neutron?" Yes, I did. Would it have been worse had the bird still been named Padme? Tough call.

The birds have happily taken up residence in the old dog run and like to hang out in their doghouse/nest box when they're not roaming the wild underbrush in the "flower beds." As for the dogs, Perrito is usually too busy patrolling the perimeter to notice the birds. Dogzilla, on the other paw, is finally letting her retriever flag fly: "Birds! Birds! Birds! See me pointing at these birds? Birds!" She's calmer now than she was Monday, but she'll always bear watching. I've had the bad luck to see her gently carry a live baby rat in her mouth (brrrrr!) so I don't think she would intend to hurt the chickens, but it could happen anyway. I'm keeping them separated.

We also have another indoor bird, a young parakeet named Tiger I bought to be a pal for Peach. They spend a lot of time cooing and "whispering" to each other. Probably talking trash about me and my weedy flowerbeds.

Chickens will ease the pain

I finally got Hombre to open up a dodgy looking section of our bathroom wall yesterday. It's not that he didn't want to do it. It's that he wanted to do it as if he were plotting his ascent of K2. I threatened to knock a hole in the wall with a hammer, and we split the difference. The verdict is leakage somewhere behind the shower tile. Nothing major -- yet -- but we figure as long as we're going to pay someone a hundred bucks an hour to rip the tile out and fight with 25-year-old fixtures, why not bite the bullet? Why not go ahead with the "green" bathroom remodel I've been planning since we moved in?

I helped Hombre remodel the kitchen at our first house (including a saves-the-day maneuver in which I knocked a balky six-foot countertop into place with my hip), but I don't know anything about plumbing and we now have not one but two wild boys running happily amok. This is not a DIY deal for us. And this bathroom is fugly. It cannot stand. I once painted a bathroom orange with pink trim so if I'm saying the bathroom is ugly, it must be horrid.

Consider the evidence: The walls are a pale purplish color I call "blue balls," and the floor is slick, shiny white tile with blue streaks. I think it's supposed to be "marble." The sink faucet makes a honk/fart noise when turned on -- a major turnoff. The real marble sink is cracked so badly that mildew grows if more than a week passes between scourings, nicely matching the perma-mildew visible through the yellowed plastic tub-faucet handle. The vanity top is of a size no longer made so I'd have to custom-order a replacement. But the cabinets beneath it are too large for the space so why bother? The commode that is encroached upon by the cabinets is 1990 vintage and uses about 4 gallons of water per flush. Let's not discuss the tub and shower except to say that if I could heave them through the tiny, decrepit, plastic-and-aluminum window near the inexplicably lowered ceiling, they'd be on the lawn.

The bathroom needs to go. It's an eyesore, a drag on the home's value, and probably a health hazard. But replacing it means spending money and having people working in my home for a long time. While it seems churlish and very American to bitch about spending discretionary money on the roof over one's head, I can't deny it: I'm cheap and reclusive and I like it that way. I just like the idea of a safe, functional, energy-efficient bathroom more.

How will I get through the entire process: bids, contracts, work and cleanup without coming apart? I'm counting on Millicent and Eunice to help me out. Millicent and Eunice are a pair of young laying hens that a fellow homeschooling mother is passing along to me tomorrow. With organic eggs at $3.50 to $4.00 a dozen, I am pleased. Between the eggs, the poop for the compost bin and the renowned chicken appetite for fire ants, I'm stoked. And any contractors who balk at the sight of a prospective client clutching a security chicken aren't my kind of people anyway.

You know your toddler is tired

when he sits at the kitchen table, bites the end off a fresh jalapeño, and promptly falls asleep with his head on the tablecloth.

Reform, rehab, recycle

So you're stuck somewhere boring with nothing to do? Try my new nature craft. If you've got an empty pill bottle, some red nail polish and a shiv awl, you can make the Celebutante Hummingbird Feeder!

Like so many projects, this one starts when the pills run out. Make sure the bottle's completely clean of any traces of medication, but this time use soap and water instead of your tongue.

Stab the empty bottle four times with the awl, but carefully, not in a fit of frustrated rage. Space the holes evenly around the top of the bottle. These are where the birds will poke their beaks in for a snack, so make sure the edges are smooth.

Get that cherry-red polish no one's wearing this season and paint the bottom and most of the sides red. Don't bother with ridge filler or topcoat. You're just doing this to clue in the hummingbirds to "Eat Here."

Don't paint over the holes you made with the awl. The birds will just chip it with their beaks and they probably don't want to taste your nail polish anyway. You can paint the outside of the lid, too, if you're really bored.

String it up. I used embroidery floss tied around the neck of the bottle and held in place with packing tape but you should use whatever you're allowed to have.

Next, mix up 1/4 cup of sugar in a cup of water and boil it for two minutes. (Ask a trusty/your charge nurse to help you with this step.) Let it cool and then fill the bottle and put on the lid. Don't worry -- the sugar-water won't run out of the holes when you flip the bottle over. It's magic or something.

Next, hang your new feeder outside or ask someone with access to the outdoors to do it for you.

Viola! You've done something cool for nature, helped pass some time and made yourself a great souvenir of that time you spent working on yourself. Now just sit quietly and let the bird-watching begin. You've earned it!

2700 gallons of rainwater

That's how much I could collect in an average year if I put gutters and a collection barrel on my garden shed. I did the math today while reading Heather Flores' Food Not Lawns. Why haven't I done this already? It's free water, it's good for the garden, and most importantly, the shed is within 25 feet of all my vegetable beds. My rainbarrel and the nearest hose faucet are 160 feet or so from the garden.

You can do the math, too, per Flores' handy formula: "Let F represent the footprint of the roof, which is not the surface area but the area, in square feet, of ground that it covers." Multiply F (120 sq. ft. in my case) by your average annual rainfall in inches (36 inches for me). Divide by 12 to get annual cubic feet of water caught and multiply that by 7.5 to get the annual number of gallons. (Flores, 72)

Now, 2700 gallons of water would cost me about six dollars and change from the local utility, even at summer rates. But when I use city water on the garden, I'm wasting treated drinking water and I have to lug it in buckets or drag a hose to the back of the property. If nothing else, easing the watering hassle is enough to motivate me to get brave and put some gutters on the shed.

I'm about a third of the way thought Food Not Lawns now. Not all of the suggestions are ones I can or will act on -- digging a drywell drainage hole three feet deep in Balcones Escarpment limestone ain't gonna happen, and I have no urge (sorry) to dilute my urine with water and spray it on my suburban lawn -- but I'm taking notes and getting some useful ideas.

For instance, I had never heard of a slime monster (aka "living machine") and now I think I must have one. A slime monster is basically a homemade mini-wetland that filters graywater (or even blackwater, if you're brave) into ponds or trenches in the garden. You get a water feature and cleaner, recycled water for the yard. How cool is that?

Also, I have a small, useless woodpile that may go to hugelkülture, which allows you to compost big sticks by burying them where you want a garden bed. Of course, I'd have to do that where the dogs couldn't dig up the sticks. That would be just too much heaven for them.

Garden of cheap-ass delights

If you've got an empty plastic water bottle and an old piece of nylon fabric, you've got weather instruments. I learned this after the dogs chewed my nice old store-bought rain gauge into shards a while back. Last year it didn't matter as there was no rain to gauge. But since January, I've grown tired of standing in the boggy patch in the yard and wondering just how much rain we've had.

Pondering a post-road-trip empty, I followed these little instructions, attached the whole business to a post in the snap-pea bed and have a handy gauge that has revealed to me the arrival of 1.5 inches of rain in the past week.

Stoked as only a garden geek can be, I then took aim at a dilapidated old nylon tote bag whose seams were giving out after a year of faithful service. At first I thought of trying to make a kite, but we've already got one. What Rocketboy really wants is to know which way the wind is blowing. Windsock! I made it from one side of the old bag instead of the paper suggested on the web page. All I did was seam the fabric into a tube, made a single-stitch line around the circle to keep it from fraying, and used pinking shears to fringe about 2/3 of it.

Did I tell you about my strawberry-row covers made from the excess length I trimmed off some IKEA window sheers? 'Strue. Our berry attrition rate has fallen dramatically since the installation of the drapery remnants. Birds don't like to mess with netting. Plus the little polka-dots are a nice accent -- they highlight the little seeds dotting the berries. I've got a theme working.

What do you recycle or repurpose for your garden? I'm planning a major expansion of edible-plant growing space here in the next couple of years so any and all eco-friendly, cheap ideas are welcome.

It's Friday afternoon. Break out the squirrels

My mother-in-law's newish husband has turned her backyard into a wildlife sanctuary. There's a head-bonking array of birdfeeders all along the windows at the back of the house, plus assorted birdbaths and boxes among the trees. I wanted some nice shots of the various woodpeckers, nuthatches, and other flying critters on the deck, but I was armed only with my amateur skillz and a (very nice) autofocus-only camera so I ended up with feathery blurs.

Other animals were slower-moving.

The meanest cat in recorded history, above, Hurricanehead's-eye view. She's drawn blood from me more than once. Hurricanehead is afraid to touch her. The first time I stayed at my MIL's, I woke in the night to find this fiend shoving her bared claws under the closed bedroom door and hissing at me from the other side. We now have an understanding. When I visit, I stay at a hotel.

But it's not all evil cats and invisible chiggers. My FIL has put up nest boxes and feeders for squirrels, to the bafflement of the neighbors and the delight of the grandkids.

Squirrel drive-thru. Grab 'n' go.

Both boys were entranced by the feeders and animals. I quit refilling our feeders after we found not one but two litters of rats brewing on our property. With the rats gone, maybe it's time to try again to lure birds to the yard. Any suggestions on how to do this without pampering rats will be greatly appreciated.