In all the to-ing and fro-ing and hanky-twisting over Obamacare and related topics (“Who’s going to pay for what?” “Where’s the money going to come from?”) there’s a deafening silence on the single topic that nobody–nobody–dares address; to wit,
“What are the responsibilities of the ultimate benefactee–the patient?”
I see people stuffing their faces–voluntarily, mind you–with all manner of toxic edibles and high-fructose corn syrup and factory meats, on the arrogant assumption that might be expressed this way:
“I’m entitled. I’m entitled to gorge my gut with these alleged foodstuffs. I’m entitled to break all my bones repeatedly in daredevil ‘sports’. I’m entitled to stay up all night in mindless partying. I’m entitled to abuse the body in all its parts in every way I can think of, thumbing my nose at sensible behavior, debauching it in a quest to contract the venereal disease du jour, disregarding every known fact about sensible, health-promoting nutrition. And I’m entitled to do all this at somebody else’s expense. Then once I’m healed, I’m entitled to walk out the door of the hospital and start the same kind of behavior all over again.”
In all the millions and billions and trillions of dollars pouring down the drain for medical care, I’m fool enough to believe that I bear some microscopic responsibility for my own state of health; that I owe it to myself and to the generations of my descendants who will still be paying for my recklessness in health matters to behave in an adult and responsible manner with regard to my health. Am I all alone here? Does any other being feel as I do: that we have a share in our own health outcomes? Let me hear from you.
Blessed Be. Yvonne