The library had dark leather chairs, shelves of bound books, and a large round table. In the past life regression I stood at the table with several others, our glasses raised in a toast. “We have a senator!” I kept hearing. “We have a senator.” In that past life I saw myself as a wealthy, educated woman fighting for women’s right to vote and had just had a major victory.
In another past life regression, I was a young woman in the early 1800s from a well-to-do family. A man came to our home for dinner and I listened, fascinated, as he spoke persuasively to my father. I discerned in his mannerisms, his choice of words, how he spoke so convincingly. Later in the regression fire destroyed a part of the town and I became convinced that we needed a fire department. Being just a young woman, I had no platform to convince the city fathers, but using the persuasive tools I’d learned, I hosted sewing circles and tea socials and began to plant the seeds of this idea. I knew the women would speak to their men repeating what I’d said. My life was cut short by illness but not before I attended the dedication of the fire hall.
Politics are the way the world gets things done—that is a given, but it is difficult to be patient while little seeds germinate. It frustrates me to hear that our government has been talking around the issue of health care for 70 years while the problem has grown exponentially. It is gratifying that the Health Care Reform Bill’s passage is a step in the direction of taking action, yet worrisome that it includes a law requiring me to buy insurance whether I want it or not, clearly a loss of free choice. It would be so much easier if the answers were clear-cut—like giving women the right to vote or building a fire station.
My son, Sam, is finishing his freshman year of college in New York City. Apparently, when stressed around finals time, he stops eating and sleeping. He’s had strep throat twice this year. The first time he picked Christmas day here at home to get a throat culture and antibiotics. After our deductable, it cost $300. The second time he availed himself of medical treatment at school, spending six hours in the clinic on a Sunday. He was given a shot of penicillin in the backside.
Our insurance company sent a letter showing that the visit cost $2,400 and I am responsible for $1,200. $1,200 for a shot in the ass.
It is time for more than posturing around our healthcare problems. Sam’s shot in the ass is nothing compared to what others are struggling with, but it is indicative of how ridiculous and out of control the situation has gotten.
Fortunately, we do not have to wait to “get a senator!” about some health related issues. We can take responsibility now for at least part of the solution through our choices including buying local organic foods and utilizing naturopathic healthcare, which may not be covered by health insurance but oddly ends up being much cheaper—at least in my experience. I consulted a friend about Sam who has expert knowledge of natural supplements. Sam is healthier now, and assures me he is eating better and getting rest. Total cost for the supplements–$52. Total savings over another visit to the ER in New York City? $1,148.
Just a little seed…..
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