Wednesday, June 11, 2014

Sensible Health Care Policy

When you read this article, keep in mind that it's increasingly difficult to admit any Medicare patient into a hospital for real diseases like, say, the flu.

Medicare can no longer automatically deny coverage requests for sex reassignment surgeries, a federal board ruled Friday in a groundbreaking decision that recognizes the procedures are medically necessary for some people who don't identify with their biological sex.

Ruling in favor of a 74-year-old transgender Army veteran whose request to have Medicare pay for her genital reconstruction was denied two years ago, a U.S. Department of Health and Human Services review board said there was no justification for a three-decade-old agency rule excluding such surgeries from treatments covered by the national health program for the elderly and disabled.

In other words, if someone (typically) older than 65 years old wants to have a sex change operation, our tax dollars will first be funneled to pay for a review of whether or not such a procedure is medically necessary. Then, they very well could be used to pay for said procedure.

This is while we as a society routinely deny elderly people hospital admission for a potentially fatal disease, calling such treatment "medically unnecessary." This is the insanity that currently governs our nation.

I am reminded of William Butler Yeats's words:

Turning and turning in the widening gyre 
The falcon cannot hear the falconer; 
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; 
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere 
The ceremony of innocence is drowned; 
The best lack all conviction, 
while the worst Are full of passionate intensity

Surely some revelation is at hand; 
Surely the Second Coming is at hand. 
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out 
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi 
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert 
A shape with lion body and the head of a man, 
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun, 
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it 
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds. 
The darkness drops again; but now I know 
That twenty centuries of stony sleep 
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle, 
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, 
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

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