X is for architecture
Family in front of house with X inscribed on print. (Recent Acquisition: 03/15/2009). Silver Print mounted on Board.Insurance: I couldn’t help but get an entry in tonight before turning in. After three days of having a headache, I think I’m either getting better, or learning to live with it? My capsule endoscopy was scheduled for tomorrow morning, but I’m not going. Without getting into details, there’s some confusion at the hospital about who ordered the test, and who was supposed to get insurance authorization, etc. After countless calls over the last week, there was still no confirmation as of Friday from ANYONE. If you take the test and it’s not authorized, the insurance company can dispute it, and I’d get stuck with a $5K bill. If I go down there without authorization, I could end up sitting in limbo for hours, if not all day. Screw that, I’ll just let them figure it out, and I’ll reschedule. So, no test tomorrow. And, what is the deal with this test costing $5K? Really, this is absurd. Health Care should not be a for profit business. Yes, I’m a business owner, and I understand profits, investment, etc… but NO ONE should profit from human suffering. Life and death should not be a business. Everyone, no matter who they are, should be attended to when they are ill. For shit-sake, we are all human and deserve to be treated with dignity, especially when battling a disease. (Ok, I’ll get off my soap box… but the next time you hear someone say something stupid, like, “Well, why should my taxes pay for their medical care…?” “Why should I care?” You respond, Because THEY ARE HUMAN! Just like you…. Because someday, you too might also need it." And think of your friend Anthony. Luckily, I’m graced with good insurance, but what if I wasn’t? Would I be worth any less due to my insurance status? Think about it the next time you’re asked to vote… or, don’t wait until then. Act now, get out a pen and write a letter to your congressman/woman. Tell them you are OUTRAGED. Or, write to Oprah. She might have more power than your elected official... Sad, yes.) Ok, enough on that.
Ruminations: I spent a good part of the morning doing some work. After which, I did a little antique hunting with Andrea and her parents at our local haunts. I picked up some nice new photos and post cards for the collection. At times, I surprise myself at what I buy. I used to acquire images based on collections, sub collections, genres, etc. (e.g., women in bathing suits, men with guns, logging, mourning, fingers over the lens, bridges, and so on.) But now, I find myself trying to make personal connections to these images. I suspect I’ve always done this, but now, I’m acutely aware of it? Is it Cancer? Or, just me getting older and wiser? Or, am I starting go crazy, induced by a century of picture dust and fixture residue, entering my blood stream directly through the fingers?
Today, I found what might be a stagnant photo of a house and family, but rich. Marked by a strange X, the photo is ripe. Dated 1907, the detail in the print is superb. It has a sharp, yet surreal quality that can only be attained by emulsion on glass. The gingerbread siding hangs on the house, but could just as easily hang on the air. I feel like I could reach in and take a bite… take two bites, and let the crumbs fall about the scene as I swing open the front gate. I want to walk up the steps, peel back the curtains, enter, and move into the living room. I want to see what’s on the stove and what’s in Elaine’s diary. Yes, her name is Elaine. She writes about boys, but also about being different than her sister. She writes about a lot of things, all mostly trite entries, but they mean the WORLD to her. I want to stand on that X. What is that X? Why is it there? Who put it there? Maybe it was meant for me, 102 years later? Maybe this is my map, my architecture? Maybe this is what I was meant to build, this world? And just like the Cancer in my body, I also imagine how another Cancer lies dormant in the wood of this house. The wood too will get sick, and the termites will nip nip nip. They will only be satisfied with a fracture. –a total collapse when they are full and fat with pulp. The women on the porch will do their best to patch here and there over the years, but once the frame is compromised, the only option will be surgical. It will take a long time, but it will happen. Elaine will grow old. Mother and Father will pass. Sister will succumb to cough. The house will decay. And through all of it, I will be there, standing on that X, watching, waiting, admiring the process. Trying not to blink.
You are so right. No one should profit from human suffering, but argue that with those who do profit from it and you will see the response you'll get.
ReplyDeleteThe docs will tell you that they put in all those years of school, late nights and no life, and they want what is coming to them. Which is a very comfortable life, which is, if you think about it and you obviously have, paid for via the suffering of others.
Of course they want to help alleviate the suffering of others, but ask how many of then would willingly take a pay cut to do it? There are those exceptions to the rule of course, the altruistic doc who goes off to Sub-Saharan Africa or the Amazon for years or the one who works full time at some inner city non-profit clinic, but they are the exception, not the rule.
There is a built in sense of entitlement in the health care establishment/culture that is ingrained in medical students early on that says, "get through this crap and you will be very, very comfortable." Is that wrong?
Sadly, we are a long way off from wrenching the money out of the hands of docs, hospitals, insurance companies and big pharma with some semblance of Universal Healthcare. They lobby hard to keep that cash flowing.