24 June 2009

Emails to My Elected Officials Regarding Single-Payer Healthcare in the US

As the President (that is still so cool!) prepares to work with Congress to fix the US' terrible health care system, we Americans abroad have begun our own work to help all our representatives (even the Republican ones... yeah, I'll own John Campbell) back home in the fight over a single-payer system at best and, at worst, at least a public option.

Below are the two email versions I sent to Senator Diane Feinstein, Senator Barbara Boxer, Representative John Campbell, and, my boy, POTUS (the letter was too long for the White House online email system, so I sent it snail mail and said a response via email was fine). I slightly altered the one I sent to my US Rep because he's a Republican and I didn't think touting my Dem street cred would do much to help me there. Please feel free to take these as inspiration for your own emails to your representatives in Congress. My only requirement is that if you use either of these letters, please let me know.


To The Democrats:


Dear [Democrat's Name],

I am writing to you to discuss the necessity of including a single-payer option in the health care debate (and, hopefully, solution), or, at the very least, a public option.

I grew up in California, but have been fortunate enough to live overseas for a short time in my childhood and for half of my adult life. Having personally experienced the health care systems in the US, France, and Japan (as an adult, responsible for my own health care programs, insurance, doctor/hospital choices, etc.), I can say without question or doubt in my mind that having a single-payer system is the best possible option for the American people. I have had surgeries and hospital stays in the US and Japan, I have visited doctors and specialists in all three countries, I have PAID for insurance in all three countries, and in each of these cases, I assure you that the United States' health insurance and health care system has come in as the least user-friendly, least wallet-friendly, and, most importantly, least available and accessible.

I currently live in Japan (but am registered to vote, and exercise that right, from overseas). Here, I have access to not only the top doctors and hospitals in the country, but these doctors also speak English and their organizations have tie-ins with several major American medical institutions (including Johns Hopkins Medicine International). So, for the cost of about $XXXX per year (an amount based on my income level), I have insurance that I know can never be rescinded; access to almost any doctor in Japan (there are a small number of doctors who cater almost exclusively to the typical expat community, most of whom have private insurance); pay only 30% co-pay (the final amount of which is usually not very much because of the negotiated rates between the government and health service providers) on doctor visits, dentist visits, hospital stays, and prescriptions; and have the comfort of knowing that, no matter how bad my medical condition might be, I won’t have to worry about it also causing debilitating debt.

My family back in the States is struggling with the costs of their individual insurance and I, myself, am afraid to let the costly individual insurance (more than twice what I pay in Japan for far inferior coverage) I have maintained back in the States lapse for fear of never being able to qualify again when I return home. For the time being, I do, in a sense, feel trapped outside the States, unable to return home because of the exorbitant costs as well as the uncertainty of American insurance coverage.

I have been a registered Democrat since the day I turned 18 and was raised in a proud Democrat household. I have voted Democrat in every election I’ve ever participated in. I am very active in Democrats Abroad in Japan—I work closely with our country committee chair, the Asia-Pacific regional chair, and as Chair of the Young Democrats Abroad Japan group. One of the reasons I have stood by the party and my elected officials all these years and worked so tirelessly to register Americans abroad to vote from overseas last year is because I care so much about the lives and well-being of my fellow citizens and I have always believed that the Democrats have the best plans to achieve the best possible quality of life for Americans. However, living overseas, I have come to learn that access to reliable, affordable, quality healthcare is not a privilege, but a right. Without a single-payer option, the United States Congress and President are letting down their constituents, their neighbors, their family members, their friends… all Americans.

The positive consequences of a single-payer system extend beyond just Americans’ every day lives and health needs. How productive could our country be if people didn’t need to choose between paying the electricity bill and paying their insurance premium? How much more could we contribute to innovation and the global economy if every man, woman, and child in American was assured of their access to a doctor without the risk of being overwhelmed by the costs of such a visit? How much more secure would we be if the people charged with overseeing our airports, seaports, and other entry points didn’t need to worry about a loved one’s illness either bankrupting their family’s coffers or, worse yet, not even being able to get their child the best care because of prohibitively costly fees?

I work at the research arm of the Asian Development Bank in Tokyo and so, through my job, have the opportunity to see the difference developed infrastructure systems can make for economic growth and productivity. Health care is a form of soft infrastructure that is woefully lacking in most of my organization’s member countries. The United States is one of the most developed countries in the world, if not the most developed, and, yet, when it comes to our health care system, we are sadly lagging behind other industrialized countries, putting us at an economic and political disadvantage (Because what besides our health can affect the other parts of our lives so completely?) not only vis-à-vis our developed economic competitors, but even in terms of our competitors in emerging markets.

I urge you, in this letter and with my vote, to support a single-payer health care system in the upcoming behemoth of a debate over how to right this too long-standing wrong. Please take courage, comfort, and support in knowing that there are thousands of other Californians overseas who have shared my experience and who also support a single-payer system.

If you would like to hear specific stories about the health care experiences of Americans overseas, please stop by the blog Americans Abroad Know About National Health Care (http://healthcareforamerica.blogspot.com/).

Thank you for your hard work representing Californians… wherever in the world they might be.

Very sincerely yours,
XXXXXX


To The Republican:

Dear [Republican's Name],

I am writing to you to discuss the necessity of including a single-payer option in the health care debate (and, hopefully, solution), or, at the very least, a public option.

I grew up in California, but have been fortunate enough to live overseas for a short time in my childhood and for half of my adult life. Having personally experienced the health care systems in the US, France, and Japan (as an adult, responsible for my own health care programs, insurance, doctor/hospital choices, etc.), I can say without question or doubt in my mind that having a single-payer system is the best possible option for the American people. I have had surgeries and hospital stays in the US and Japan, I have visited doctors and specialists in all three countries, I have PAID for insurance in all three countries, and in each of these cases, I assure you that the United States' health insurance and health care system has come in as the least user-friendly, least wallet-friendly, and, most importantly, least available and accessible.

I currently live in Japan (but am registered to vote, and exercise that right, from overseas). Here, I have access to not only the top doctors and hospitals in the country, but these doctors also speak English and their organizations have tie-ins with several major American medical institutions (including Johns Hopkins Medicine International). So, for the cost of about $XXXX per year (an amount based on my income level), I have insurance that I know can never be rescinded; access to almost any doctor in Japan (there are a small number of doctors who cater almost exclusively to the typical expat community, most of whom have private insurance); pay only 30% co-pay (the final amount of which is usually not very much because of the negotiated rates between the government and health service providers) on doctor visits, dentist visits, hospital stays, and prescriptions; and have the comfort of knowing that, no matter how bad my medical condition might be, I won’t have to worry about it also causing debilitating debt.

My family back in the States is struggling with the costs of their individual insurance and I, myself, am afraid to let the costly individual insurance (more than twice what I pay in Japan for far inferior coverage) I have maintained back in the States lapse for fear of never being able to qualify again when I return home. For the time being, I do, in a sense, feel trapped outside the States, unable to return home because of the exorbitant costs as well as the uncertainty of American insurance coverage.

Living overseas, I have come to understand that access to reliable, affordable, quality health care is not a privilege, but a right. Without a single-payer option, the United States Congress and President are letting down their constituents, their neighbors, their family members, their friends… all Americans.

The positive consequences of a single-payer system extend beyond just Americans’ every day lives and health needs. How productive could our country be if people didn’t need to choose between paying the electricity bill and paying their insurance premium? How much more could we contribute to innovation and the global economy if every man, woman, and child in American was assured of their access to a doctor without the risk of being overwhelmed by the costs of such a visit? How much more secure would we be if the people charged with overseeing our airports, seaports, and other entry points didn’t need to worry about a loved one’s illness either bankrupting their family’s coffers or, worse yet, not even being able to get their child the best care because of prohibitively costly fees?

I work at the research arm of the Asian Development Bank in Tokyo and so, through my job, have the opportunity to see the difference developed infrastructure systems can make for economic growth and productivity. Health care is a form of soft infrastructure that is woefully lacking in most of my organization’s member countries. The United States is one of the most developed countries in the world, if not the most developed, and, yet, when it comes to our health care system, we are sadly lagging behind other industrialized countries, putting us at an economic and political disadvantage (Because what besides our health can affect the other parts of our lives so completely?) not only vis-à-vis our developed economic competitors, but even in terms of our competitors in emerging markets.

I urge you, in this letter and with my vote, to support a single-payer health care system in the upcoming behemoth of a debate over how to right this too long-standing wrong. Please take courage, comfort, and support in knowing that there are thousands of other Californians overseas who have shared my experience and who also support a single-payer system.

If you would like to hear specific stories about the health care experiences of Americans overseas, please stop by the blog Americans Abroad Know About National Health Care (http://healthcareforamerica.blogspot.com/).

Thank you for your hard work representing Californians… wherever in the world they might be.

Very sincerely yours,
XXXXXX

Image source originally Air America.

12 June 2009

"To Do" Lists

I feel like I'm terrible at organizing my life, even though I somehow still manage to get a lot of my shit taken care of. It kind of boggles my mind, actually--how do I do it? Unlike outside observers, to whom it probably doesn't seem like I do all that much more than any other average Jane walking around on two legs, I know how much clutter takes up space in my brain, so it's a wonder to me that I ever get anything done. (If you've ever seen my room or my episodic dish situation, you know how this mental clutter translates to the physical world.)

Last year, I was good about carrying around a tiny little notebook to write things down in, to make lists in. Eventually, I stopped that. I guess there were too many lists, all put down in one place--it became overwhelming. I forgot to add "Don't get overwhelmed by 'to do lists'" to my list.

Now, I'm heavily dependent on my Google calendar. I'm very anti-PDA (Why would I ever want to be able to know what I'm scheduled to do at any point in the future for my entire life??), but I'm also very "I'm-in-denial-about-all-the-shit-I-need-to-do," so, often, if someone asks me if I'm free to do something, say, four days from then, I'll say, without any cheek, "I'm not sure. Let me check my calendar and get back to you." If I had people, I would definitely be asking them to contact yours (If you had any... which you might, I mean, I don't know who's reading this right now anyway, right? Who am I to make assumptions?).

It's not because I have more to do than any other average Tokyoite, it's just that, I feel like I'm always walking a fine line of being conscious and in the present, and blowing it all off in a "well, fuck it" attitude and running for the hills or a desert island and, if I had that calendar always available, ready to weigh me down with its admonitions of "Don't forget to do X," or "You've got Z at 3pm," then it'd just be too much.

Actually, that second part is so precariously close to the surface that I also have episodic bouts of "desert island mode," one of which finally won out and took me to New Caledonia in April. Only, four days in the tropics weren't really enough. So, I escaped again to Jakarta a couple weekends ago. It was amazing and I could totally see myself living there (on an excellent expat package, of course). But, it's only been two weeks back in the real world and I'm desperate to run and hide again (If I can't see the world, then it can't see me and it won't notice all the stuff I'm not getting done.). It's 'cause my mental "To Do" list is becoming heavy and hard to look at.

I'll be celebrating my 2nd Annual 29th Birthday in less than six months, and I feel like I've got very little, professionally, to show for it. Sure, my experience looks great on paper and, in fact, my job experiences have been pretty darn good in real life, too, but they're not what I had in mind when I tripped up the stairs and hobbled across the stage* in Bender Arena to accept my degree a million (okay, eight) years ago.

Law school has always been in the plans and joining the State Department was high my list of things to get done, but neither of these things has been did. Where did the last eight years go?? What about the last 11?? When did I stop being 18 years old with all the time in the world to get my shit sorted out? I'm not saying I'm ancient (even though I feel that way sometimes when I do have a momentary reality check, "Oh, yeah, shit, I forgot I'm not 18 anymore."), but it just seems like a lot of my peers have gotten their stuff a lot more figured out and even if things can't necessarily be definitively crossed off their lists, they're well on their way to being so.

I did manage to squeeze the foreign service exam in back in 2001, and I even managed to pass it. But after not making the cut in the second round, I never got back to that (plus, ahem, I wasn't a fan of the boss, so that's at least part of my excuse for lagging on that task). I sort of started working on the whole law school angle by training to teach LSAT prep back in 2003, but then I got side-tracked by jaunting off to Paris for a year and some change. Now, as that 2nd Annual 29th looms, I'm starting to get more serious about getting around to the whole law school "to do" (by "serious," read: talking about it more to more people, but still not doing an actual damn thing about it). Talking with Katy when I was in Jakarta helped me figure out a semi-deadline for getting my applications out if I want to start school in the fall of 2010: December 2009. (Cue doom music.) Um, yeah, um... shiiiiiiiit!!! That's just around the corner! Have you noticed that it's already frickin' June?! WTF?!? When did that happen??

See?? See how I always feel like time just got away from me? Is this a problem that affects only me, or do any of you ("Papa, can you hear me?" "Hello, testing, testing. Is this thing on?") feel this way too?

Anyway, lists, to dos, lots, heavy, denial, no time, old, (wow, stream of consciousness is so much faster than writing complete sentences), deadlines, failed deadlines, huh...

Welcome to the inside of my head. Please be careful not trip over that pile of shit to do.


*I had just had my cast off the week before after having broken my foot and sprained my ankle at the same time the week before spring break. Right before I mounted the steps, I joked to my friend behind me, "Wouldn't it suck if I tripped?" Ha! Yes, Irony, I heard you.



h/t to Lauren over at Fighting Liberals for making my year when she shared this video.