I saw in the news today that it looks like Obama is backing away from a public provider option for health care reform. I find this very distressing! For many reasons, meaningful health care reform is not possible without a public option (sorry – health care cooperatives just don’t cut it!)
It’s time for a March On Washington by anyone who has ever been denied coverage (either health or disability), been denied service by an insurer, has a pre-existing condition, or simply can't afford health care insurance. (That makes about 100% of the American public, doesn’t it?) If the Democratic outliers in Congress won't do the right thing and support a public option for fear of political fallout, it's time to give them political cover by visibly demonstrating that MEANINGFUL reform is what most Americans want! Obama's election made that mandate clear.
I’m sick of the wingnuts dictating the terms of the health care debate. It’s time for a March On Washington in favor of real reform. Push your friends, neighbors and any activists you know to support a March On Washington in favor of MEANINGFUL health care reform! The time for universal, cost-effective health care is now!
American health care today is an international embarrassment and a disgrace.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Friday, July 31, 2009
The mammogram chronicles - part 9: All's well that ends well?
(I never finished my mammogram story because I'm so disgusted with the entire episode I’m too disillusioned even to complain. But for the record, here's a rundown of my final visit.)
I showed up on time for my ten o’clock appointment on May 25. I took a queue number and sat down. After ten minutes, I was able to sign in and take care of the SEK 300 (USD 40) co-payment. I had hit the co-payment limit (SEK 900 per year) so I qualified for free health care for one year. The receptionist made me a validation card and I sat down to wait again.
At 10:25, I reminded the receptionist I was waiting. She said she would check on it. At 10:35, I went back to the receptionist and asked what the delay was and said I had been waiting for 35 minutes. She said I was mistaken about the time – my appointment was for 10:30. (She tells me now?) I showed her my appointment confirmation sheet that clearly said 10:00. As we were discussing the matter, a nurse came out and called my name.
But now I was very annoyed and decided to make trouble. I pointed out that if patients have to wait more than 20 minutes for an appointment they are entitled to free care (i.e. no co-payment) even though this meant I would lose my “free care for a year” card. Now she had to invalidate my card and reprocess me while both the nurse and I waited. The nurse was getting impatient and I was maliciously gleeful about causing extra delay.
As the nurse and I walked back into the examination area – it was now 10:40 – I told her about the mix-up in appointment times. She said tersely, "We are responsible for appointment times, not the front desk," and acknowledged they were running late. As an afterthought she offered a brief apology, but no explanation, for the delay.
I waited five minutes in the examination room. A frazzled-looking doctor walked in. She reported that the mammogram was normal. I sat and she looked at both breasts. She quickly ran her hand along the side of one and said everything was fine. I asked about the cause of the pain. She said no one knows why women get breast pain (not a word about fibroid tissue), that it was nothing to be concerned about, and if I had a lot of pain she could prescribe something. I declined. Visit over. Five minutes.
And that concludes "specialist" breast care in Västmanland!
I showed up on time for my ten o’clock appointment on May 25. I took a queue number and sat down. After ten minutes, I was able to sign in and take care of the SEK 300 (USD 40) co-payment. I had hit the co-payment limit (SEK 900 per year) so I qualified for free health care for one year. The receptionist made me a validation card and I sat down to wait again.
At 10:25, I reminded the receptionist I was waiting. She said she would check on it. At 10:35, I went back to the receptionist and asked what the delay was and said I had been waiting for 35 minutes. She said I was mistaken about the time – my appointment was for 10:30. (She tells me now?) I showed her my appointment confirmation sheet that clearly said 10:00. As we were discussing the matter, a nurse came out and called my name.
But now I was very annoyed and decided to make trouble. I pointed out that if patients have to wait more than 20 minutes for an appointment they are entitled to free care (i.e. no co-payment) even though this meant I would lose my “free care for a year” card. Now she had to invalidate my card and reprocess me while both the nurse and I waited. The nurse was getting impatient and I was maliciously gleeful about causing extra delay.
As the nurse and I walked back into the examination area – it was now 10:40 – I told her about the mix-up in appointment times. She said tersely, "We are responsible for appointment times, not the front desk," and acknowledged they were running late. As an afterthought she offered a brief apology, but no explanation, for the delay.
I waited five minutes in the examination room. A frazzled-looking doctor walked in. She reported that the mammogram was normal. I sat and she looked at both breasts. She quickly ran her hand along the side of one and said everything was fine. I asked about the cause of the pain. She said no one knows why women get breast pain (not a word about fibroid tissue), that it was nothing to be concerned about, and if I had a lot of pain she could prescribe something. I declined. Visit over. Five minutes.
And that concludes "specialist" breast care in Västmanland!
Friday, July 17, 2009
Please be "seated"
What do Italians have against toilet seats?
In fairness to Italians, I first encountered the seatless toilet in Greece 30 years ago. I haven’t been to Greece since then, but I have been to Italy several times and I see that the tradition lives on.
So what gives?
About three years ago, we were in Rome and my then eight-year old daughter needed to use the toilet at The Forum. We entered the public restroom and my daughter looked at me in dismay, “What do I do, Mom?” It was a bare, seatless toilet bowl with a thin, uncomfortable, dirty rim. “You balance, honey,” I answered.
Having grown up in the United States where toilets are designed for comfort, I know a good toilet seat when I see one. I am not unfamiliar with hole-in-the-floor toilets either. But a seatless toilet is the worst of all worlds. Either seated comfortably or squatting low is much easier than a precarious half-balance on one’s haunches when “taking care of business” (not to mention the danger of mid-air spray; women do not pee in a thin, tidy stream).
And it isn’t just public restrooms. Our hotel room in Rome had been retroactively equipped with a roundish seat that didn’t quite fit the squarish bowl. And just two weeks ago, our hotel room in Pisa had an ill-fitting seat that was also broken. You had to bear right as you sat to avoid slipping and sliding and ending up on the rim.
A friend theorizes that Italians don’t want to bother cleaning toilet seats. Perhaps she’s right. But that doesn’t explain why the seats on toilets that have them fit so badly. It’s a nuisance, not to mention sexist, to provide toilets without seats or ill-fitting ones.
So why do Italian women and apparently those of other southern European cultures put up with this? Is there a secret or a way to use seatless toilets that I’m missing?
Ironically, in Roman times, public toilets were a place for leisurely socializing. They were often built with ten or more "holes" for group communing!
In fairness to Italians, I first encountered the seatless toilet in Greece 30 years ago. I haven’t been to Greece since then, but I have been to Italy several times and I see that the tradition lives on.
So what gives?
About three years ago, we were in Rome and my then eight-year old daughter needed to use the toilet at The Forum. We entered the public restroom and my daughter looked at me in dismay, “What do I do, Mom?” It was a bare, seatless toilet bowl with a thin, uncomfortable, dirty rim. “You balance, honey,” I answered.
Having grown up in the United States where toilets are designed for comfort, I know a good toilet seat when I see one. I am not unfamiliar with hole-in-the-floor toilets either. But a seatless toilet is the worst of all worlds. Either seated comfortably or squatting low is much easier than a precarious half-balance on one’s haunches when “taking care of business” (not to mention the danger of mid-air spray; women do not pee in a thin, tidy stream).
And it isn’t just public restrooms. Our hotel room in Rome had been retroactively equipped with a roundish seat that didn’t quite fit the squarish bowl. And just two weeks ago, our hotel room in Pisa had an ill-fitting seat that was also broken. You had to bear right as you sat to avoid slipping and sliding and ending up on the rim.
A friend theorizes that Italians don’t want to bother cleaning toilet seats. Perhaps she’s right. But that doesn’t explain why the seats on toilets that have them fit so badly. It’s a nuisance, not to mention sexist, to provide toilets without seats or ill-fitting ones.
So why do Italian women and apparently those of other southern European cultures put up with this? Is there a secret or a way to use seatless toilets that I’m missing?
Ironically, in Roman times, public toilets were a place for leisurely socializing. They were often built with ten or more "holes" for group communing!
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