The political drama between patriots in Cuba and exiles in Miami around 6-year-old Elian Gonzalez raises a key question: What are the boy’s chances of growing up healthy if and when he heads back across the Florida straits to his dad? The bottom line is that he’ll benefit from a system in which universal health care is entrenched as a “human right,” but if he gets a headache his dad may not be able to afford to buy him an aspirin.
Such contradictions are not uncommon on Castro’s island, as I discovered when I lived in Havana for almost a year. What I found, to my surprise, is that Cuba’s essentially totalitarian regime is in the process of engineering something inherently democratic: the integration of low-cost botanicals and other natural medicines into its public health care system.
My story begins on a hot May afternoon walking my bicycle down crowded Obispo Street in Old Havana. The bicycle pedal scraping against my leg is only a trivial annoyance as I pass by Hemingway haunts, art vendors and 17th century architecture under repair — until three days later a nasty infection from an earlier injury blossoms on my left calf.
Far from being a worry, the infection is my opportunity to test my faith in Cuban alternatives to mainstream medicine. In what amounts to a revolution in health care delivery, the Cuban government has been actively promoting low-cost botanical medicines instead of drugs. It’s also encouraged doctors to reeducate themselves in “natural” medicine techniques.
Much of the credit goes to the continuing U.S. trade embargo. The economic disaster following withdrawal of Soviet aid in the early ’90s made it impossible to access many medicines and pharmaceuticals. So the Cuban health care system was forced to search for alternatives. It didn’t have to look far, because medicine verde, or “green medicine,” has been part of Cuba’s culture for centuries.
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I’m in the home of Enrequito Hernandez Armenteros, at 81 one of Cuba’s better-known priests of Palo Montes and Santeria. As a practitioner of Afro-Cuban religion, Enrequito knows the country’s thousands of healing plants and herbs. A shrine to San Lazaro, surrounded by floral offerings, graces his front yard. A prized memento in his private consulting room is a photo of himself with Fidel Castro taken last year at a reception for the country’s senior babalaos. The photo shows the tall Cuban leader with his arm draped around the diminutive Enrequito.
I have it on reasonably good authority that Fidel, far from being a heartless atheist, is an “hijo” (son) of Babalu-Aye, the orisha in the Santeria pantheon who causes and cures illnesses. I’ve also been initiated as an “hijo” of Babalu-Aye in a Santeria ceremony as part of my exploration of Cuban archetypes. And I made the 50-mile pilgrimage on my bicycle to El Rincon to the church of San Lazaro, the Catholic saint paired with Babalu-Aye. This act of devotion on my part should certainly protect me against some trifling leg infection — shouldn’t it?
I’m visiting Enrequito to introduce Tracey Spack, a Canadian Ph.D. student in medical anthropology. She’s conducting research on how Cuba is introducing natural medicine into its public health care system. She says that before Castro the use of plants and herbs was relatively common and accepted in Cuba. The revolution brought in modern medicine, vaccinations and antibiotics, so natural medicine faded into the background. Cubans who grew up in the Soviet-backed economy of the ’60s through ’80s didn’t exactly embrace natural medicine with open arms. “But,” she says, “they found out to their surprise that it actually works.”
She adds, “In Cuba there’s more of a sense of community around medical care, and patients are seen more holistically. There’s more consideration of the person’s life situation: marriage, work, etc.” The contrast in North America is that we tend to want to “kill an infection, deal with a specific pathology in isolation. In North America it’s more difficult because people want a quick fix.”
Speaking of which, as I sit around Enrequito’s Arthurian round table, sipping aguardiente rum, I’m starting to panic. The infection is making the sore on my leg start to weep. For Enrequito, my problem is a no-brainer. The solution is to simply apply leaves of the caisimon tree, hojas de caisimon, which are readily available at the four corners market in Havana. But wait. Today is Sunday and the market is closed. No problem, says one of Enrequito’s sons. He dashes off, returning in 20 minutes with a couple of dozen large, dark green, heart-shaped caisimon leaves.
“And if that doesn’t work,” jokes one of Enrequito’s followers, “we’ll do an amputation.”
As I gratefully depart clutching the caisimon leaves in a plastic shopping bag, Enrequito advises me to rest the leg for two days.
That evening my Cuban girlfriend lights a red candle and takes one of my cigars as an offering to San Lazaro. I go to bed with a caisimon leaf wrapped around my leg, and in the morning it looks as though I’m on the mend. The episode with my leg is giving me a direct experience of medicine verde. Still, I have some fear. Maybe I should go to Cira Garcia, the hospital for foreign visitors, and get antibiotics. But I don’t like antibiotics, and I want to test the herbal treatment.
Since I’m feeling better, I decide to head off in a taxi — instead of on my bike this time — to an interview Tracey has set up for me with a young doctor at a newly opened government clinic in the Havana suburb of Miramar.
When I arrive, Orlando Sanchez, just two years out of University of Havana medical school, is placing tiny acupuncture seeds in the ear of a middle-aged woman. He’s practicing the ancient art of auriculotherapy. His patient is being treated for post-menopausal problems, he says. On the opposite wall hangs a symbol of the tao, which is not only an unself-conscious declaration of his faith in traditional Chinese medicine, but also a symbol of the remarkable 180-degree turn Cuba has taken back to centuries-old healing techniques.
Sanchez says his parents were part of Cuba’s pre-revolutionary botanical culture. He recalls that his career interest in medicine was ignited during his Cuban army service, when he was befriended by a medical school dropout who taught him tai chi and Qigong (traditional Chinese practices that aim to harmonize body energy).
He doesn’t see a conflict between natural and conventional medicine: “We are trying to develop some sort of synthesis,” he says, “the best of natural and conventional medicines — to heal without damaging the patient.” The clinic is aggressively promoting self-healing techniques by holding free classes in yoga, tai chi and stress management, even teaching school children acupuncture points.
Without any prompting from me he notes the problem with my leg, and I leave the clinic impressed with the Cuban health-care system’s openness to experimentation and innovation.
Patients treated with natural medicine (acupuncture, homeopathy, herbal remedies) have more than doubled since 1996 to about 3,000,000 in 1998, according to Leoncio Padron, director of traditional and natural medicine for the Ministry of Public Health. Tough economic times forced the government to slash health-care expenditures to about half of what it devoted back in 1979.
However, Cuba has more doctors now than in 1979. “Health care is better now because we can do more with less,” he said in an interview. Even if the embargo abruptly ended, he adds, Cuba would continue paying attention to natural medicine in the interests of developing “medical science.” Medical consultations, hospital visits and surgery are free of charge in Cuba’s public system.
The revolution in Cuban health care has not gone unnoticed by Cuba’s neighbors to the North. Marta Perez, director of natural and traditional medicine for the Ministry of Public Health in Havana Province, told a dozen visiting health professionals from the United States last fall that the Cuban government promotes natural medicine because it’s sustainable and cost-effective. “The special period has been a great teacher for Cuba,” she said, “because in the midst of this difficult situation we had to find a way to fight back.”
In 1992 the government set up organizational responsibility within the ministry for natural medicine, and a resolution was introduced that sanctioned herbal medicines and infusions made from plants, acupuncture and related techniques, as well as homeopathy and thermotherapy (sulfur baths and mineral mud baths).
Adding all such treatments to a system that was completely allopathic (conventional) hasn’t been easy, Perez said. “We defended all of these treatments, saying we needed to have a wide range of treatment options.” She added, “We looked mainly for techniques that we could defend scientifically.” Pyramid power was not among them, she quipped. The practice of laying on of hands might work, she said, “but its scientific basis can’t be measured and it can’t be standardized.”
Says an official of the Ministry of Public Health: “For Cuba’s common illnesses — skin problems, fungal infections, parasites and especially bronchial diseases — green medicine usually works at least as well as the drugs, without the side effects.”
Rita Beretervide, a doctor in her mid-30s, is a specialist in family medicine in the Havana suburb of Santos Suarez. Her salary is 500 Cuban pesos a month (about $24). A 1986 graduate of the University of Havana, she was trained in the old school before natural medicine started making a comeback. But last year she joined dozens of other doctors attending weekly neighborhood clinics on natural medicine. She now says she’s comfortable prescribing herbal medicines and believes in their effectiveness.
A few blocks away customers gather at the counter of an open-air pharmacy carved out of the ground floor of a crumbling apartment building. A large sign lists the most popular herbal remedies. Pharmacists there report that the most common ailment among people over 50 in the neighborhood is hypertension, which can be treated with an herbal medicine derived from sugar cane, called cana santa, which costs the equivalent of 4 cents.
Not everybody, of course, is singing the praises of medicine verde. A Cuban women whose skin problems didn’t respond to herbal treatment said, “Frankly, I don’t believe in green medicine. If it really worked, the doctors in the United States and other rich countries would be using it too. We only use it here because there’s nothing else.”
But natural medicine has gained a strong foothold in Cuba, propelled by economic necessity, unopposed by the medical establishment and with deep roots in the culture. In her briefing to the visiting U.S. health professionals, Perez related an anecdote: The vice minister of public health for Cuba came down with a large and ugly lesion on his mouth. He was told the best natural medicine treatment was a combination of aloe vera, rosemary and a special herbal cream. “Within three days it was healed,” she said, “and now no one can say a bad word to him about natural medicine.”
OK, but I’m having trouble resolving the discrepancy of Cubans’ raging because they can’t afford to buy aspirins (one bottle costs about one-tenth the average monthly salary) in a health system capable of embracing natural medicine techniques with such alacrity.
These and other unresolved contradictions of life in Havana hang in the air as I climb aboard the Cubana flight back to Toronto two days later. I’m worried because the leg infection is looking scary again. I think I got overconfident and forgot Enrequito’s advice to stay off the leg for a couple of days.
Back in Toronto I visit the outpatient department at East York General Hospital and get an antibiotic prescription; I’m willing to sacrifice my belief in natural medicine for a quick fix. I have options unavailable to my Cuban friends, even if their public health care is showing an openness and resilience to be envied by neighbors to the north.
When it comes to sex and reproduction, even the most mind-numbingly intuitive conclusions can be politicized or disbelieved. So they bear repeating and resubstantiation. Take this recent Guttmacher study on contraceptive knowledge. Surveying 1,800 men and women ages 18–29, the authors “found that the lower the level of contraceptive knowledge among young women, the greater the likelihood that they expected to have unprotected sex in the next three months, behavior that puts them at risk for an unplanned pregnancy.” In other words, access to factual information helps prevent risky behavior.
I’m holding myself back from saying “duh” here, but this still has to be reiterated at a time when abstinence-only education that doesn’t provide detailed information about contraceptive use, except occasionally to emphasize its limits, not only persists but recently got a federal stamp of approval. As an Advocates for Youth report on the impact of abstinence-only education noted, “Proponents of abstinence-only programs believe that providing information about the health benefits of condoms or contraception contradicts their message of abstinence-only and undermines its impact. As such, abstinence-only programs provide no information about contraception beyond failure rates.” That’s how you get terrifying statistics like this one from the Guttmacher report: In the survey, “60 percent underestimated the effectiveness of oral contraceptives and 40 percent held the fatalistic view that using birth control does not matter.” Overall, “more than half of young men and a quarter of young women received low scores on contraceptive knowledge.” It’s also how you get figures like the one from the CDC that found that 31.4 percent of pregnant teens didn’t use contraception because they “thought they could not get pregnant at the time.”
There are two reasons to be optimistic that some dent can be made in these depressing figures, and they both have to do with provisions of the Affordable Care Act. Much has been made of the mandate that insurance policies cover all FDA-approved contraceptive methods, but there’s another aspect that’s been relatively overlooked: the fact that the same provision includes free education and counseling about sex and contraception, at least for the insured. The second reason for optimism is that the mandate will make it far easier for women to get longer-acting and more effective forms of contraception like the IUD — which are also more expensive and which studies have shown women would be interested in if they could afford them. Incidentally, the recent Guttmacher study found that women who were using long-acting or regular hormonal contraception tended to score higher on overall knowledge.
It will be awhile before we know if these changes will move the needle on the nation’s unparalleled rate of unintended pregnancy. The women’s health provisions only go into effect for new plans in August 2012, and older plans will be initially grandfathered and eventually phased out. And of course, there’s another big fat if – whether the Supreme Court overturns all or part of the Affordable Care Act. The Obama campaign and its allies are keen to point out how such a move — or, perhaps, a legislative repeal down the line — will hurt women above all. The Center for American Progress recently released a report on “Women and Obamacare” (the campaign having officially embraced the derisively intended term). It declares Obamacare “the greatest legislative advancement for women’s health in a generation,” which may be true for reasons more depressing than inspiring: There have been very few advancements partly because there has been so much political defense played.
In addition to the reproductive health benefits, the report points to preventive care recommendations for which cost-sharing has already been cut: mammograms, pap smears, prenatal care and so on. According to the report, “close to 9 million women will gain coverage for maternity care in the individual market starting in 2014,” currently not covered in 78 percent of plans sold on the individual market. It notes that women are more frequent users of healthcare services than men, that they’re likelier to make the household decisions on healthcare and that they’re more vulnerable to losing coverage because they’re likelier to be listed as dependents on a partner’s plan. The Affordable Care Act also makes it illegal to engage in “gender rating” – charging women $1 billion more than men on the individual market – and bans states from discriminating on the basis of gender identity in their insurance exchanges.
The report does acknowledge two ways in which Obamacare falls short for women who were “left out of the law — undocumented and recent immigrant women and women who need abortion services.” It claims that “political compromises on abortion coverage were necessary to ensure passage of the Affordable Care Act” – still a bitter loss to reproductive rights groups, who memorably described women as having been “thrown under the bus” by Democrats – “but the work to obtain abortion coverage for all women continues.” The last part is particularly debatable, at least when it comes to any momentum on the funding issue from national Democrats, while Republicans in the states and federally have spent considerable energy trying to limit abortion coverage on even private insurance plans.
Still, if the Affordable Care Act is allowed to stand, the magnitude of having an actual, proactive reproductive health access policy shouldn’t be underplayed. Maybe we’ll get closer to a saner republic where hearing “birth control doesn’t matter” from people who don’t want to get pregnant is a quaint memory.
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This article was adapted from the new book,
"Insourced", available May 8 from Dartmouth College Press.
Approximately 15 percent of all healthcare workers and 25 percent of all physicians in the United States were born and educated elsewhere. This means that 1.5 million healthcare jobs are “insourced,” occupied by foreign-born, foreign-trained workers brought into the United States on special visas earmarked for healthcare jobs. This number is 50 percent greater than the total number of jobs in the U.S. auto-manufacturing industry. It’s amazing to consider that in 2008 and 2009, the auto industry, which makes up just 3.6 percent of the U.S. economy, received a $97 billion bailout. If we estimate that each of these 1.5 million insourced healthcare jobs has an average wage of $60,000, that’s $90 billion a year in wages going to people brought into the United States to work rather than training Americans to do the same jobs.
The healthcare industry makes up 16 percent of our economy. Yet even in these days of close to 10 percent unemployment, we do not invest enough money in our young people to train them for jobs in healthcare — an already understaffed industry that will have to serve an additional 32 million people once the provisions of the 2010 health-reform law take full effect. Instead, when faced with pressure from hospitals and nursing homes for more healthcare workers, the federal government grants visas to import nurses, physicians, pharmacists, physical therapists, and many other types of healthcare workers from countries that can ill afford to lose them.
In some U.S. industries, the outcome of globalization is positive or neutral. Take the sugar industry. Due to lower labor and land costs and better weather conditions, it’s far cheaper to grow sugar cane in the Caribbean than sugar beets in North Dakota. As import taxes fall, global transportation improves, and the number of sugar beet farms in the United States declines, more Americans are sweetening their cereal with sugar from Jamaican sugar cane. Americans save money buying cheaper sugar; the economy of the poorer sugar-growing countries improves, lifting thousands of people out of poverty; and the few displaced American sugar beet farmers generally find other work. But sugar is not a strategic commodity. If CARICOM, the Caribbean Community, were to halt sugar exports to the United States, we would experience no crisis. Sugar is not essential to our diet or life, and we have plenty of substitutes, from honey and corn syrup to NutraSweet. If necessary, within a year we could again be producing sugar in the United States.
The U.S. healthcare industry is 200 times larger than the U.S. tire-manufacturing industry, yet President Obama risked a trade war with China, our biggest trade partner, over tires. He was understandably trying to protect well-paying manufacturing jobs for American workers. Yet each year, we bring thousands of nurses from China to work in even better-paying jobs rather than train young people in this country to become nurses. The irony is that the economic costs of “insourcing” healthcare workers, including the loss of jobs no longer available to Americans, are far greater than the costs when we import Chinese tires. In 2003 the Commission on Graduates of Foreign Nursing Schools (CGFNS), a U.S.-based nongovernmental organization that administers the U.S. nursing licensing exam for foreign-trained nurses, opened a testing center in Beijing. The opening of this center initiated a “mushrooming” of new nursing schools in China and led to credible predictions that China will soon surpass the Philippines as the number one source of foreign-trained nurses imported to the United States.
Given the publicity and furor over the loss of manufacturing jobs, the lack of protest over healthcare-worker insourcing is surprising. Congress passed legislation and President George W. Bush signed a law in 2007 to protect the American sock industry from the rival Honduran sock industry. Yes, that’s right: socks. Protecting a few hundred $15-an-hour sock-manufacturing jobs based solely in the small town of Fort Payne, Ala., was worth acting on. Yet insourcing hundreds of thousands of $60-an-hour healthcare jobs has prompted no such similarly high-level response from our leaders.
Instead, on a regular basis, Congress approves and presidents from both political parties sign legislation to enable the legal entry of an ever-increasing number of foreign healthcare workers. Each year, about 20,000 new healthcare-specific visas are issued for these workers.
The United States has traditionally not allowed strategic industries to be outsourced. That’s why the U.S. steel industry and the U.S. car industry have received bailout after bailout. Access to enough steel and automobiles is essential to our economy; without a sufficient supply of each, our economy would be severely damaged. It’s time we acknowledged that the health of the population is just as important as steel and autos in keeping our economy strong. Healthcare is too important to risk continuing to insource it.
It’s not just a matter of protecting and expanding jobs for American workers. Every year, thousands of Americans die, and the health of thousands more is compromised, because of the shortage of healthcare workers in every one of the healthcare professions.
On the surface, insourcing may appear to be a harmless or even win-win solution to the country’s healthcare-worker shortage. The hospital receives a much-needed worker, and the worker escapes life in a struggling country for a better life here. But we should be training more people in this country to work in those professions, especially people from poor and minority communities. Rather than investing in our own people and communities, however, the U.S. government has decided to take the best and brightest workers from struggling countries.
Many foreign-trained healthcare workers, no matter how smart, are not adequately prepared for practice in the fast-paced, high-tech world of U.S. medicine. Whether in operating rooms, hospital wards, or nursing homes, inadequately qualified and poorly oriented foreign healthcare workers endanger the lives of their patients, as well as the lives and careers of their American-trained colleagues.
But the main reason for this country’s rise in unnecessary deaths and delayed care is understaffing — a result of the failure to train and place enough healthcare workers, especially in rural and underserved communities. Americans who live in rural areas make fewer visits to healthcare providers and are less likely to receive preventive care. The infant-mortality rate for African-Americans is twice that for the average American; Latinos are twice as likely as white Americans to die from diabetes. These health disparities are due in large part to a lack of healthcare workers, especially primary-care workers, in their communities. The quick fix has been importing foreign healthcare workers for these unfilled positions. Unfortunately, once these workers fulfill their initial contracts, most move to communities without healthcare-worker shortages; in fact, foreign-trained healthcare workers are more likely to practice in the well-served, major metropolitan areas than their American-trained counterparts.
Even if good foreign-trained healthcare workers were here in numbers adequate to meet our needs, the U.S. healthcare system is about encounter a tidal wave of demand as 78 million baby boomers approach their 60s. Older people make, on average, six visits to a healthcare provider a year, compared with two visits per year for people under 60. The healthcare workforce is aging, too: More than 50 percent of practicing healthcare workers are eligible to retire during the next 10 years, which will leave us with fewer workers to treat more and sicker patients.
In the eyes of employers, of course, insourcing healthcare workers appears to offer many benefits. Most doctors and nurses in developing countries earn a fraction of what American doctors and nurses earn: A Caribbean nurse makes around $1,000 a month; an Ethiopian physician, about $100 a month. Not only are many foreign-trained healthcare workers accustomed to lower salaries and quality of life, but they also carry little or no education debt, while their American-trained colleagues typically graduate with five- and six-figure debt burdens. With average student debt burdens of $155,00011 for newly graduated physicians and $30,375 for nurses, American-trained health workers require a higher salary just to help pay for their education. Trained in a much more hierarchical environment, foreign workers are much less likely to unionize, or even express dissatisfaction with their work. As the percentage of imported healthcare workers increases, their attitudes toward salary and terms of employment undermine the bargaining power of U.S. workers, and even affect the important feedback loop between employees and management.
Polls indicate that 70 to 80 percent of Americans want to reduce the rate of immigration into the United States. Yet the American public is not aware of our policy of using healthcare-worker-specific visas to solve the healthcare-worker shortage.
Some legislators who publicly support stabilizing immigration consistently vote to increase the number of healthcare-worker-specific visas granted each year. It’s not that American citizens don’t want to become healthcare workers and fill these jobs. This distinction is critical, because every industry that has brought in foreign workers has argued that American workers won’t do the work for the prevailing wage, or won’t do the work no matter how high the pay is. In the healthcare industry, this argument does not apply. U.S. citizens want the jobs. They just can’t access the training. The United States does not have enough positions in health-professional schools to meet industry demands.
The tens of thousands of qualified nursing school and medical school applicants who are denied entry to school each year permanently lose out on their chosen careers, work that is consistently ranked in the top tier of salaries, with excellent benefits and almost guaranteed job security. This loss of career opportunity is even greater for rural and minority young people, who are grossly underrepresented in the higher-level health professions, such as physicians and nurses, and overrepresented in the lower-level professions, such as technicians and home health assistants. Something is wrong when so many young Americans are forced to pursue other, lower-paying careers at a time when we desperately need more healthcare providers. In exchange we get foreign healthcare workers who are less well trained (they consistently score lower on licensing exams than U.S.-trained healthcare workers) and far less culturally competent than native-born Americans.
The most tragic and most preventable effect of our hiring so many healthcare workers from other countries is the unnecessary deaths of hundreds of thousands of men, women and children in developing countries. The World Health Organization (WHO) estimates that each year more than 10 million people die needlessly, from easily treatable maladies such as diarrhea, pneumonia, malaria, tuberculosis, vaccine-preventable diseases, and complications of childbirth. The WHO Global Health Workforce Alliance estimates that there are a billion people alive today who will never see a health worker in their lives. In Ethiopia, one in 10 Ethiopian children will die before his or her fifth birthday — yet there are more Ethiopian physicians in the Chicago area than in all of Ethiopia, which, with 80 million people, is the second most populous country in Africa. As their most skilled nurses emigrate to work in U.S. nursing homes, middle-income countries such as Jamaica and Trinidad have nurse-vacancy rates of 60 percent or higher.
Throughout the developing world, nurses, pharmacists, physical therapists, and many other types of healthcare workers are being approached and offered 10 times their salaries to practice in modern U.S. healthcare facilities with state-of-the-art technologies. Even the most dedicated, socially conscious worker would be tempted by such an offer. A colleague of mine relayed a conversation he’d had with the head of the Nursing Council of Kenya, who told him about the damage the exodus of senior nurses was doing to her country’s healthcare system. In the next breath, she confessed that the next time he visited Kenya, she might not be there. She was thinking about emigrating herself.
Our unofficial policy of relying on the world’s poorest countries to pay for the training of workers whom we then entice and bring to this country is devastating healthcare systems around the world. The loss to a developing country when a single physician, representing what may be a significant portion of their total number of physicians, emigrates is far greater than our gain. Our failure to provide education for our own citizens and to better plan for healthcare staffing and distribution does not justify poaching nurses and physicians from the countries that can least afford to lose them. How many additional deaths, how much more needless disability and suffering, will we allow this misguided policy to cause?
And consider American competitiveness. Certain industries are vital to U.S. global leadership. Recognizing their importance, we protect those industries. We don’t allow them to move overseas and make the United States vulnerable to the actions of other countries. Poor farmers in the developing world can certainly grow food staples more cheaply than American farmers do. But because of the strategic importance of the U.S. food supply, we subsidize some basic food crops, such as corn and soybeans.
And yet we are overreliant on foreign healthcare workers to meet our most basic health needs. This is particularly dangerous because many countries, almost completely drained of healthcare workers and tired of subsidizing the U.S. healthcare system, are trying to slam the door shut for emigrating healthcare workers. Meantime, of the world’s wealthiest nations, the United States has the worst health outcomes, with lower life expectancies and higher rates of deaths from preventable causes. In infant mortality, for instance, we rank 27th, behind Poland and Hungary. Our disability levels are higher than in most former Soviet countries.
If the United States is to remain competitive in the global economy, we need a healthy workforce. In order to achieve that, we need a healthcare workforce made up of adequate numbers of properly trained physicians, nurses, pharmacists, community-health workers, and other healthcare providers.
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Ruth Marcus is unsettled. Maybe even queasy. There is probably some light nausea. What has her worried for the future of the nation, today? President Obama’s shameful, horrific, vicious attacks on those nice people in the Supreme Court.
Obama said that the court overturning Congress’ healthcare reform law would be a textbook example of “judicial activism” as “conservative commentators” define it: “that an unelected group of people would somehow overturn a duly constituted and passed law.” And hey, that seems like an eminently defensible and not particularly unsettling point! Conservatives made “judicial activism” into a talking point and rallying cry and defined it vaguely enough to encompass judges striking down basically any law or statute.
Marcus, though, is stopped cold.
And yet, Obama’s assault on “an unelected group of people” stopped me cold. Because, as the former constitutional law professor certainly understands, it is the essence of our governmental system to vest in the court the ultimate power to decide the meaning of the constitution. Even if, as the president said, it means overturning “a duly constituted and passed law.”
Judicial review, as a former constitutional law professor certainly understands, is not in the Constitution — an unelected activist judge made it up! — and the founders themselves disagreed on the wisdom of the principle. (They tended, in fact, to decide whether or not they liked judicial review based on whether or not the judges ruled in a way that they approved of.) The history of the Supreme Court is replete with nakedly political and mostly conservative rulings until very recently, when we had a brief period of liberal-leaning rulings from a marginally more diverse group followed by a return to status quo conservatism.
As long as the Supreme Court has been making awful and indefensible rulings based on ideology or racism, presidents and politicians have been criticizing the court. Abraham Lincoln attacked the Supreme Court in his first inaugural address, in a passage that conservatives love to quote when they’re attacking “activist judges.”
At the same time the candid citizen must confess that if the policy of the government, upon vital questions, affecting the whole people, is to be irrevocably fixed by decisions of the Supreme Court, the instant they are made, in ordinary litigation between parties, in personal actions, the people will have ceased, to be their own rulers, having, to that extent, practically resigned their government, into the hands of that eminent tribunal.
I am stopped cold and unsettled!
Marcus, hilariously enough, supports the healthcare law and the mandate — she is the world’s most sensitive milquetoast moderate liberal newspaper columnist, after all — which theoretically means she thinks it’s constitutional, which would mean that declaring it unconstitutional should maybe upset her more than criticizing the court for being political, but on the other hand those judges seem very smart and our entire system of government could collapse if we aren’t all super polite to one another and constantly deferential to authority.
I would lament a ruling striking down the individual mandate, but I would not denounce it as conservative justices run amok. Listening to the arguments and reading the transcript, the justices struck me as a group wrestling with a legitimate, even difficult, constitutional question. For the president to imply that the only explanation for a constitutional conclusion contrary to his own would be out-of-control conservative justices does the court a disservice.
Yes, I could tell they were very seriously wrestling with a difficult constitutional question when Scalia began joking around about broccoli mandates and the legendary “Cornhusker Kickback.”
I’m not sure what more the Supreme Court could do before moderates like Ruth Marcus finally acknowledged that it’s a partisan body with a right-wing majority. If Bush v. Gore didn’t do it, maybe nothing could. But as a partisan body it is open to partisan attacks, and our fragile democracy will not descend into anarchy if people think as poorly of the Court as they currently do of Congress.
Of course, the Republican talking point is that the president is attempting to bully the Court into ruling the way he wants. (Because if they strike down the law, he’ll … yell at them during the State of the Union again? No one seriously predicts an arrest warrant for Chief Justice Roberts here.) Mitch McConnell: “This president’s attempt to intimidate the Supreme Court falls well beyond distasteful politics; it demonstrates a fundamental lack of respect for our system of checks and balances.” Lamar Smith: “What is unprecedented is for the president of the United States trying to intimidate the Supreme Court.” Mike Johanns: “”What President Obama is doing here isn’t right. It is threatening, it is intimidating.” (Did you notice how everyone used the word “intimidate”? That’s because they got their language from a memo.)
The only time, besides Lincoln’s suspension of habeas corpus, that any president has seriously threatened the independence of the Supreme Court was when Franklin Roosevelt tried to amend the law to give the president the power to appoint more justices. And Roosevelt, frankly, was right on the merits of his proposal. The court is completely unaccountable and ridiculously powerful, it always has been, and pointing that out does not a constitutional crisis provoke.
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This originally appeared on Janine Urbaniak's
Open Salon blog. It was written in a response to
a call for essays about people's personal experiences with the Affordable Care Act. Have an Obamacare story of your own? Blog about it on
Open Salon.
Mason is my 14-year-old son, who is adorable and funny, and happens to have a very stubborn and large brain tumor. We discovered the tumor four years ago, and we have been monitoring and treating it with the help of some of the finest doctors around. Mason has lived a somewhat “normal” life, despite frequent MRIs and even chemotherapy. He did his homework and hung out with friends until the fall of 2010 when his headaches became debilitating. Scans revealed that Mason’s tumor had grown for the first time since we had discovered it. Then days before we were scheduled to meet with the neurosurgeon to discuss a surgery we had tried to avoid, Mason had a massive cerebral hemorrhage.
My boy spent 65 days in the pediatric intensive care unit (PICU) at one of Northern California’s best hospitals; during that time he underwent two brain surgeries, along with operations to insert a tracheostomy and a feeding tube. We stayed with him 24 hours a day, my husband, Alan, and I, his grandparents, and his 16-year-old brother, watching his oxygen levels on a screen, tracking his heart rate in beats per minute. The doctors kept him sedated, but every morning they turned down the propofol (Michael Jackson’s drug of choice) when the neurosurgeons came to do their examination. Three to five doctors circled Mason’s bed, one of them yelled his name into his ear. When he didn’t wake up right away, they apologetically pinched him and yelled louder.
When I was alone with Mason I put a white earbud into his ear and tuned my iPod to a song I knew he liked, “Airplanes” by B.O.B. I said it was time to wake up. “You need to come back, now,” I told him in my firm mommy voice.
During our first three weeks of hospitalization Mason racked up $1.1 million in medical bills. I worried about butting up against the $5 million lifetime limit on Mason’s health insurance policy. We had a good policy with a good company. We always paid our premiums on time and in full. But Mason wasn’t getting out of the hospital at any time soon, and there were months of rehab ahead. My then 13-year-old son would have reached his lifetime limit of health insurance had such limits not been eliminated by Obamacare on April 1, 2011. That date felt like a birthday or anniversary, something to be celebrated, when it finally arrived and we weren’t yet dropped by our health insurance company.
After two months in the PICU, we moved to a sunny room on one of the hospital’s regular floors. Our boy had just regained consciousness, though he still couldn’t talk or move his arms and legs. When the neurosurgeons came for their daily exam, we cheered when Mason managed a half-mast thumbs up. It was a huge victory.
As we celebrated our first day out of the pediatric ICU, Polly, the hospital discharge planner, introduced herself. Her job was to get the necessary approvals from our insurance company and make sure every moment of our stay was covered. This meant that she needed us to be ready to leave at any time. We needed a plan. She talked about Mason’s options for rehabilitation facilities. I soon realized that it would be challenging finding a place for a 6 foot tall 13year-old with a neurological injury. I scoured the Internet on my laptop for options.
A few days later, Polly stopped by to let me know that our insurance company representative had told her that Mason no longer needed hospitalization. Someone (she wasn’t naming names but they were clearly not a part of our medical team) suggested that we send our boy to an “interim” facility in a rundown city 40 miles away from our hospital and about 60 miles away from our home. I looked at Mason, who was enjoying his lunch through a feeding tube in his abdomen and breathing through another tube attached to a ventilator. I reminded her that Mason needed to be where he had access to neurosurgeons for emergencies. She smiled blankly and repeated something about medical necessity and pre-authorization. It was out of her hands.
Mason bought us a reprieve with a high temperature and a series of seizures. It started when his eyes fluttered from left to right, then his body stiffened. I rang the emergency button and the nurse ran for the appropriate drug. I held Mason’s hand and told him we were riding a big wave. It was pulling us under but we would always emerge. It would pass. I kept my voice low and even.
When my husband arrived later that day, I told him that at least they were not going to kick us out of the hospital now. I was aware my thinking had taken on a new and undesirable twist.
I avoided Polly. If I saw her at the nurse’s station, I ducked back into Mason’s room and locked myself in the bathroom. If she called, I let her leave a message. I spent all of my time caring for my child. Did the nurse wash her hands when she came into the room? Had Mason received his 3 p.m. meds? It’s not that I wanted to spend any extra time in the hospital, it was just that Mason was still so fragile and we had nowhere to go yet.
The insurance company appointed one of their staff nurses to support us through our medical crisis. I believe she was a compassionate and concerned human being, but I never trusted her. I imagined that her notes would go into Mason’s file for the utilization department to examine and find reasons why they should cut back on his care, or lose him from their roles entirely. Any time she called, I heard the voice of Sgt. Joe Friday from Dragnet reminding me, “Anything you say can and will be used against you.”
Several people mentioned that TIRR in Houston was one of the best neuro-rehabilitation facilities in the U.S. Footage of wounded Rep. Gabrielle Giffords arriving at TIRR was airing on every news channel. I don’t believe in coincidences, especially when thousands of people were praying for us. I called to see if TIRR was a part of our health insurance network. It was. It turned out that TIRR had expertise working with teenagers and there was excellent neurosurgical care available less than a mile away at Texas Children’s Hospital. It seemed like this was meant to be until Polly burst into our hospital room and told us that we couldn’t go. Though the insurance company approved the rehabilitation, they refused to pay for the air ambulance. We dipped into our savings, grateful that we could, and chartered our first airplane; this one came with a crew of paramedics.
The rehab doctors weaned Mason off of pain medication and fitted him for a wheelchair. He was out of bed every morning and dressed in sweat pants and a T-shirt. He began occupational, physical and speech therapy, though in the early days he often nodded off halfway through a session. A neuropsychologist said Mason’s prognosis was good. The healthy brain tissue had not been harmed by the hemorrhage. It was just a matter of getting the wiring back online in Mason’s brain, retraining his muscles and building his strength.
The insurance company rationed out Mason’s rehab approvals two weeks at a time. To meet their standards, Mason had to strike the balance between needing ongoing therapy and showing continued progress. If he stopped getting better, the insurance company would stop paying for his therapy, which presents a problem because brain injury patients typically hit plateaus in their recovery. I prayed daily for the faceless insurance company doctors who parsed out Mason’s approvals, wishing them insight and compassion.
A rehab hospital is not the place to visit if you want to pretend that awful things can’t happen to blameless people. In addition to stroke victims of all ages, there was a 30-year-old woman who was rear-ended at high speed on an interstate highway. Her mother brought her 2-month-old baby to visit whenever she could, though the young woman stared ahead her eyes not seeming to focus. There was a naval officer who suffered oxygen deprivation due to an illness he suffered on a ship somewhere in the Pacific. His mother brought me strawberries when she came to visit one Saturday. Then there were two other teenage boys, like Mason, with different varieties of brain tumors. One didn’t survive his stay, though I’m not sure what happened. The other walked out of the rehab to the cheers of his therapists and all the rest of us.
We never saw congresswoman Giffords, though I found the presence of the Secret Service reassuring. Nancy Pelosi toured the gym one afternoon when Mason was having physical therapy. I introduced myself. She smiled and complimented my beautiful boy who was walking in a harness mechanism. I meant to thank her for the healthcare bill, but it was too disorienting speaking to someone I usually watch on CNN. John Boehner didn’t stop by, maybe it was too much, seeing all these folks flaunting their preexisting conditions, exceeding their lifetime insurance limits with such brazen determination to pull themselves upright again.
P.S. Mason is back in school, finishing 8th grade. He is walking, talking and working out at the gym three times a week. He received an A- on his paper on “Of Mice and Men.”
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This originally appeared on Cedar Burnett's
Open Salon blog. It was written in a response to
a call for essays about people's personal experiences with the Affordable Care Act. Have an Obamacare story of your own? Blog about it on
Open Salon.
Dear healthy people,
It’s great that you’re deriving intellectual pleasure from debating Obamacare. I love that this theoretical dance you’re engaged in has no repercussions to you, a healthy individual. I would love to join you some evening for a spirited discussion on the pros and cons of healthcare reform. Maybe over a glass of wine? Heck — over two or three glasses of wine. I’d love to lean forward, my arched brows furrowed, my full lips purple with the stain of a good Zinfandel, and throw out statistics and well-crafted one-liners about the plight of the uninsured, the underinsured, the sick. Those poor, poor sick.
But I can’t.
I can’t because it isn’t theoretical. I am sick. I’m so sick I can’t drink. I can’t drink and I can’t eat half the things a normal person eats and when I hear the word “Obamacare” hissed in snide derision I want to put a golf club through the windshield of the nearest Mercedes-Benz.
I’m 33 years old. I was diagnosed with an autoimmune disease called ulcerative colitis when I was 26.
Ulcerative colitis isn’t a disease people like to discuss. Most of what we experience is so embarrassing that many of us don’t tell people what we’re going through. We might tell you we’re “sick,” or “under the weather,” but we won’t tell you how bad it is. We won’t tell you we’ve had constant diarrhea for days, weeks, months on end, that we’ve been throwing up stomach acid, that we can’t eat anything but bagels, and that our joints ache so badly it’s hard to sleep. We won’t tell you how we’re wearing adult diapers under our clothes. We won’t tell you that getting in the car and driving three blocks away is the only activity we can do in an entire day.
But you know what we will tell you? We have to have insurance. We need healthcare and support because ulcerative colitis is a lifetime sentence. You know what else it is? A preexisting condition. Since receiving my diagnosis I have lived in fear of losing my insurance because if I let my insurance lapse, and Obamacare fails, I won’t be able to get it again. Ulcerative colitis and her sister, Crohn’s disease, are up there in the echelons of Scary Diseases Insurance Doesn’t Like to Cover.
I get it, I do. Some of our drugs cost a ton. It’s likely we’ll be hospitalized here and there. And many of us can look forward to bowel resection surgery or colon cancer. We’re expensive and we stay expensive for our entire lives. That’s the sticking point with chronic illness like Crohn’s and colitis: We’re sick but we just keep on living. We just don’t die fast enough.
If the health mandate stays, then the preexisting condition clause goes away. Insurance companies have to take everyone — even me. Lose the mandate and I’m right back to worrying about my care.
In truth, I think Obamacare doesn’t go far enough. My family is still coughing up $900 a month to insure the three of us, since my husband and I are self-employed. That’s pretty unsustainable. But at least the current plan includes a provision that insurance companies have to take me. I may have to pay ridiculous sums to keep my insurance, but I’m not going to live in fear of being dropped.
The last thing a sick person should have to worry about is how to pay for their care. The last thing the parent of a sick child or the child of a sick parent should have to worry about is how to pay for care. People should not have to choose between food and medicine, losing their house or losing their loved one. Let’s hold onto Obamacare as a stopgap, but let’s also work toward the goal of universal coverage.
For those of you who think of the healthcare reform debate in theoretical terms, I warn you: Your day is coming. Sure, you and your family are healthy now, but you might not be tomorrow. Sickness can come out of nowhere and knock your world upside down.
You’d better hope you have decent coverage. You’d better hope you’ve won the genetic lottery and you’ll never find yourself sitting in a flimsy hospital gown on a sheet of wax paper, staring down at your unshaven legs while a doctor tells you you have a golf ball-size tumor in your head or ulcers lining your intestines. You’d better hope Obamacare covers your theoretical ass.
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