So long, butterfly

butterfly

I’m not feeling super happy about the world, so here’s a picture of a dead butterfly I saw the other day.

Speaking of death: a young woman who used to clean for our neighbors died suddenly over the weekend. She was 42 and in generally good health. The exact cause of death is unclear, but it would very likely have been treatable if she had had money to pay for a better doctor.

In Southeast Asia we see this All. The. Time. People live or die based on how much money they have. It’s true in Asia, and it’s true in the United States. We just see it more here because there aren’t adequate licensing requirements for practicing medicine here.

A friend-of-a-friend just wrote about why they’re staying in Europe instead of coming back to the U.S.:

In January, back before Coronavirus had made its way to Europe, our son’s pediatrician sent us to the ER when it seemed like a bad fall might have caused a concussion. We spent the whole day, and the next day, and the day after that, marveling at the fact that we didn’t pay anything for this visit. For an ER trip and an overnight stay in the hospital. I kept thinking of the time my single mother had driven me to the ER when I was ten, and we sat in the parking lot with a cold washcloth on my head, praying that my fever would go down before she had to take me in, because she couldn’t afford the visit.

This is the difference between healthcare in the U.S. and healthcare in the rest of the developed world.

It’s funny that this is the intended result of policies from the party that claims to be “pro-life”. (It should really be rebranded pro-birth, because after that, you’re on your own, sucker.)

I am grateful that my parents have access to good doctors because they’re old enough to be covered by America’s (strangely uncontroversial) socialized healthcare plan for seniors. Because of their age, they won’t have to choose between staying alive and staying solvent.

Rest in peace, Sophat.

Rest in peace, butterfly.