Morgan Bolt's Blog, page 6
June 19, 2017
The Church Should Care for the Sick. So Should the Government.
“The Church should care for the sick, NOT the Government!”
It’s a truly bizarre statement that I’ve seen and heard too many times already and doubtless will too many times again. First, this idea ignores the realities of what it takes to care for the sick in this day and age. It also presents a clearly false dichotomy about the roles of church and government that nobody I know actually believes; not when applied to other issues, at least.
I’ll start by making a minor concession and agreeing with the first premise in this statement. Yes, the church should and must care for the sick. Jesus makes clear in Matthew 25 that those who provide food to the hungry, drink to the thirsty, hospitality to the stranger, clothing to the naked, care to the sick, and companionship to the imprisoned are considered righteous in God’s eyes. The parable of the Good Samaritan too proclaims that it is good and right to care for others, perhaps especially when it is inconvenient and costs us our time, money, or even our own safety. So yes. The Church needs to care for the sick. But it isn’t. And it can’t. Not on its own, at least.
Now, I don’t want to sound like I’m criticizing The Church too harshly here. Numerous churches—from the one I grew up in for eighteen years to ones attended by friends of friends—have sent us care packages, cards, and yes, money. In many ways The Church has gone above and beyond in supporting me and my wife through my ongoing cancer treatments. We have been visited and hosted by people from church. I could not and would never expect or ask for more support than we’ve already received. From special offerings collected to generous individuals who continue to give to us, we have been helped immensely by the generosity of more churches than I can keep track of.
Yet the fact remains that none of this comes remotely close to covering the costs of my medical treatments. It never could, really. That’s why I have insurance. That’s why I NEED insurance. Insurance that, thanks to current government regulations, can’t be cut off for annual and lifetime limits that I would easily surpass. No church I’ve ever been part of has an extra million dollars per year in its budget for the medical bills of just one member or regular attendee. That’s how much my cancer treatment has averaged these last two-and-a-half years though. If caring for the sick were solely the responsibility of The Church, people like me with rare and expensive medical conditions would bankrupt churches and end up without access to life-saving treatments. The Church can and must tend to the sick, but it cannot pay for everyone’s medical care on its own.
Even if medical care we far cheaper or a lot more rich people donated copious amounts to The Church and The Church could somehow pay for everyone’s medical bills, that would still be no reason why our government should not also play some role in our healthcare system. The idea that it’s The Church’s job and therefore not the government’s would still be a false dichotomy. If The Church should do something—if something is noble and just—why should the government then necessarily avoid such things? The only possible answer to this question is that we must have separation of Church and State, yet that doesn’t really apply here. Certainly, no religion should unduly influence our government. But that doesn’t mean that a government’s duties to its citizens—such as providing for the right to life and therefore healthcare—should be abandoned just because members of a religion also believe in that duty and want to help in that area.
I don’t think anyone really believes this false dichotomy anyways though. Certainly I don’t know anyone who applies this principle consistently. It strikes me as very odd that many of the same people who say the government should get out of healthcare because The Church should care for the sick also want—for religious reasons—the government deciding who can marry whom based on something as trivial as the physical characteristics of their bodies. It is wildly inconsistent to vote for elected officials who promise to bring “Christian” principles to our government while saying the government shouldn’t do something the church is supposed to do.
I think when it comes down to it many Christians are simply embarrassed that our government is doing a better job than The Church at systematically providing food for the hungry and giving the sick a way to receive the healthcare they need. Really, we should be embarrassed by this. I know I am. I do next to nothing to contribute to these areas myself, and I wish I and The Church were better examples of Christ’s love. Sure, my current health makes that difficult, but that’s really just a tepid excuse. I didn’t exactly volunteer all that much before I got cancer, after all. We The Church can and must do better. But if Christian opposition to government involvement in caring for the sick does in fact stem from embarrassment, that’s about the most petty attitude I’ve ever encountered.
So how should the church care for the sick while recognizing the government’s role in healthcare? First, we must recognize there are in fact many ways of caring for the sick that the government cannot take care of. The Church can provide community that the government cannot. The Church can provide spiritual care that the government cannot. The Church can be a source of comfort and strength extending far beyond financial support—though it can and should work to improve its care in that area too. But the church simply cannot provide comprehensive medical coverage for everyone. In light of that, we The Church should support and encourage our government to work towards healthcare policies that protect the sick and ensure they are cared for, even as we work together to care holistically for those facing illness.
It’s a truly bizarre statement that I’ve seen and heard too many times already and doubtless will too many times again. First, this idea ignores the realities of what it takes to care for the sick in this day and age. It also presents a clearly false dichotomy about the roles of church and government that nobody I know actually believes; not when applied to other issues, at least.
I’ll start by making a minor concession and agreeing with the first premise in this statement. Yes, the church should and must care for the sick. Jesus makes clear in Matthew 25 that those who provide food to the hungry, drink to the thirsty, hospitality to the stranger, clothing to the naked, care to the sick, and companionship to the imprisoned are considered righteous in God’s eyes. The parable of the Good Samaritan too proclaims that it is good and right to care for others, perhaps especially when it is inconvenient and costs us our time, money, or even our own safety. So yes. The Church needs to care for the sick. But it isn’t. And it can’t. Not on its own, at least.
Now, I don’t want to sound like I’m criticizing The Church too harshly here. Numerous churches—from the one I grew up in for eighteen years to ones attended by friends of friends—have sent us care packages, cards, and yes, money. In many ways The Church has gone above and beyond in supporting me and my wife through my ongoing cancer treatments. We have been visited and hosted by people from church. I could not and would never expect or ask for more support than we’ve already received. From special offerings collected to generous individuals who continue to give to us, we have been helped immensely by the generosity of more churches than I can keep track of.
Yet the fact remains that none of this comes remotely close to covering the costs of my medical treatments. It never could, really. That’s why I have insurance. That’s why I NEED insurance. Insurance that, thanks to current government regulations, can’t be cut off for annual and lifetime limits that I would easily surpass. No church I’ve ever been part of has an extra million dollars per year in its budget for the medical bills of just one member or regular attendee. That’s how much my cancer treatment has averaged these last two-and-a-half years though. If caring for the sick were solely the responsibility of The Church, people like me with rare and expensive medical conditions would bankrupt churches and end up without access to life-saving treatments. The Church can and must tend to the sick, but it cannot pay for everyone’s medical care on its own.
Even if medical care we far cheaper or a lot more rich people donated copious amounts to The Church and The Church could somehow pay for everyone’s medical bills, that would still be no reason why our government should not also play some role in our healthcare system. The idea that it’s The Church’s job and therefore not the government’s would still be a false dichotomy. If The Church should do something—if something is noble and just—why should the government then necessarily avoid such things? The only possible answer to this question is that we must have separation of Church and State, yet that doesn’t really apply here. Certainly, no religion should unduly influence our government. But that doesn’t mean that a government’s duties to its citizens—such as providing for the right to life and therefore healthcare—should be abandoned just because members of a religion also believe in that duty and want to help in that area.
I don’t think anyone really believes this false dichotomy anyways though. Certainly I don’t know anyone who applies this principle consistently. It strikes me as very odd that many of the same people who say the government should get out of healthcare because The Church should care for the sick also want—for religious reasons—the government deciding who can marry whom based on something as trivial as the physical characteristics of their bodies. It is wildly inconsistent to vote for elected officials who promise to bring “Christian” principles to our government while saying the government shouldn’t do something the church is supposed to do.
I think when it comes down to it many Christians are simply embarrassed that our government is doing a better job than The Church at systematically providing food for the hungry and giving the sick a way to receive the healthcare they need. Really, we should be embarrassed by this. I know I am. I do next to nothing to contribute to these areas myself, and I wish I and The Church were better examples of Christ’s love. Sure, my current health makes that difficult, but that’s really just a tepid excuse. I didn’t exactly volunteer all that much before I got cancer, after all. We The Church can and must do better. But if Christian opposition to government involvement in caring for the sick does in fact stem from embarrassment, that’s about the most petty attitude I’ve ever encountered.
So how should the church care for the sick while recognizing the government’s role in healthcare? First, we must recognize there are in fact many ways of caring for the sick that the government cannot take care of. The Church can provide community that the government cannot. The Church can provide spiritual care that the government cannot. The Church can be a source of comfort and strength extending far beyond financial support—though it can and should work to improve its care in that area too. But the church simply cannot provide comprehensive medical coverage for everyone. In light of that, we The Church should support and encourage our government to work towards healthcare policies that protect the sick and ensure they are cared for, even as we work together to care holistically for those facing illness.
June 17, 2017
Podcast Interview
I had the opportunity to guest on another podcast last week, and the episode is up now! If you don't mind a little swearing, listen to our conversation at the link below:http://wisdomofabeardedman.libsyn.com/
June 12, 2017
Healthcare Is a Human Right
If I don’t have the right to healthcare, I lose my right to life. It’s that simple.
Alright, I know this issue is a little more complicated than that, but that’s what it all boils down to. I depend on healthcare to stay alive. I need healthcare just to have a fighting chance at living a little longer, actually. If I lose access to healthcare, I won’t have a chance. Period. I don’t have much of a chance as it is, but at least if I have guaranteed access to reasonably affordable health care my situation isn’t completely without hope. Healthcare is, for me and millions like me, inseparably tied with life. They are one and the same right.
Yet this is, somehow, a controversial statement. Millions of people—and a majority of our current lawmakers—seem to think that healthcare is not a right. It isn’t explicitly mentioned in the U.S. Constitution or Bill of Rights, after all. I’ve seen someone write that we don’t have the right to other people’s money, so we don’t have the right to healthcare; we just have to take responsibility for ourselves and pay for our own healthcare. I’ve heard arguments that food and shelter are necessary for life, yet the government doesn’t provide those for all its citizens. Why should healthcare be different? I won’t pretend to know all the reasons people think healthcare isn’t a basic human right, and I am sure there are other arguments out there against it. But these seem to be some of the most common arguments, so I’ll respond to them below. If you know of any other reason people oppose the right to healthcare, please let me know!
First, the constitution. No, it doesn’t say healthcare is a right. Healthcare as we know it today didn’t really exist when the constitution was written, and practices like slavery were originally allowed by the constitution, so perhaps we should stop revering it quite so much and update it as needed a little more, but that’s another issue. The United Nations though, which we’re part of when last I checked, in Article 25 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights says that:
“everyone has the right to a standard of living adequate for the health and well-being of himself and of his family, including food, clothing, housing and medical care and necessary social services, and the right to security in the event of unemployment, sickness, disability, widowhood, old age or other lack of livelihood in circumstances beyond his control.”
Gender-exclusive language aside, this pretty clearly lists health care as a basic human right, no matter the circumstances in someone’s life. Perhaps we should honor that, as a member of the UN.
Next comes the single-most prevalent argument against the right to healthcare: personal responsibility. Or, as I like to call it, selfishness. It is, simply put, the idea that we should all just take care of ourselves. Well, that would be great if that were possible. Personally I’d love to work and make enough money that I could pay for my own medical costs. Who wouldn’t want to be a millionaire, after all. I’m not exaggerating, by the way; my medicals bills have averaged about a million dollars a year. Without laws that prevent me from being discriminated against by health insurance companies, I’d have been on the hook for that—if I was even able to get that care at all. Now, most people touting personal responsibility don’t want to abolish the concept of health insurance. They just want everyone to be responsible for paying for their own insurance.
And that sounds reasonable, at first. Before I got cancer I was working towards that goal, but neither of my part-time jobs offered benefits. So I simply stayed on my parent’s insurance, since I was 23. Here’s the irony though: if I had been a “good, responsible, self-sufficient American adult” I’d have been on my own health insurance when I got diagnosed, and I would be in a much worse position now because of it. Since I haven’t been able to work due to my ongoing treatment, I would have lost that insurance when I had to quit my jobs. I don’t know what I would have done next. I guess I would probably have gotten my own insurance through the state exchange without being denied for my brand new pre-existing condition, which makes two ways Obamacare would have saved my life in that scenario. At any rate, it would have added another layer of difficulty to what is already an almost-impossible situation. I have a super rare cancer that will probably kill, me, after all. I don’t need another thing to worry about.
Last, I need to respond to the idea that food and housing aren’t provided by the government, so healthcare shouldn’t be either. First, this is just factually incorrect. Our government provides food and housing assistance for those who need it, just as Medicaid provides healthcare assistance for those who need it. If you think the government shouldn’t play a role in assisting its most marginalized citizens then that’s another argument for another time. But the fact is we already do have programs in place to assist those in need with these basic components of their right to life. Second, whether or not the government should cover the cost of health care for all its citizens is irrelevant to whether or not we have the right to healthcare.
We have laws and government agencies that ensure our food and housing meet certain standards. The FDA works to make sure companies don’t sell foods contaminated with E Coli, for example, and our housing codes make sure that building materials don’t contain poisons like lead or formaldehyde. These are fairly basic consumer protection measures, designed to keep us from being taken advantage of by profit-driven companies. This same principle applies to our healthcare laws, for now. The Affordable Care Act prevents insurance companies from selling ridiculously cheap plans that provide no meaningful benefits. Obamacare keeps people like me—whose health issues make them unprofitable to insure—from being discriminated against. It means I can’t be taken advantage of just because I happened to get cancer. I can’t be charged more or denied coverage just because I have health issues. These are fairly basic consumer protection measures. And they’re under attack.
The right to healthcare doesn’t necessitate taxpayer-funded universal health coverage through the government. It doesn’t have to be socialized medicine. But at the very least it has to include consumer protection measures that keep the people whose lives depend on health care from being discriminated against. It has to prevent companies from selling cheap plans that cover basically nothing, just as we have laws preventing companies from selling cheap cars that don’t meet safety standards. Whatever we think about the proper roles of a free market or government involvement, we must recognize that the right to life is intimately intertwined with the need for affordable health care for all people. We need common-sense consumer protection laws, whatever form our healthcare system takes. The AHCA being worked on by a handful of senators right now is a brazen assault on such protective measures. It is, simply put, an attack on the Right to Life itself.
Alright, I know this issue is a little more complicated than that, but that’s what it all boils down to. I depend on healthcare to stay alive. I need healthcare just to have a fighting chance at living a little longer, actually. If I lose access to healthcare, I won’t have a chance. Period. I don’t have much of a chance as it is, but at least if I have guaranteed access to reasonably affordable health care my situation isn’t completely without hope. Healthcare is, for me and millions like me, inseparably tied with life. They are one and the same right.
Yet this is, somehow, a controversial statement. Millions of people—and a majority of our current lawmakers—seem to think that healthcare is not a right. It isn’t explicitly mentioned in the U.S. Constitution or Bill of Rights, after all. I’ve seen someone write that we don’t have the right to other people’s money, so we don’t have the right to healthcare; we just have to take responsibility for ourselves and pay for our own healthcare. I’ve heard arguments that food and shelter are necessary for life, yet the government doesn’t provide those for all its citizens. Why should healthcare be different? I won’t pretend to know all the reasons people think healthcare isn’t a basic human right, and I am sure there are other arguments out there against it. But these seem to be some of the most common arguments, so I’ll respond to them below. If you know of any other reason people oppose the right to healthcare, please let me know!
First, the constitution. No, it doesn’t say healthcare is a right. Healthcare as we know it today didn’t really exist when the constitution was written, and practices like slavery were originally allowed by the constitution, so perhaps we should stop revering it quite so much and update it as needed a little more, but that’s another issue. The United Nations though, which we’re part of when last I checked, in Article 25 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights says that:
“everyone has the right to a standard of living adequate for the health and well-being of himself and of his family, including food, clothing, housing and medical care and necessary social services, and the right to security in the event of unemployment, sickness, disability, widowhood, old age or other lack of livelihood in circumstances beyond his control.”
Gender-exclusive language aside, this pretty clearly lists health care as a basic human right, no matter the circumstances in someone’s life. Perhaps we should honor that, as a member of the UN.
Next comes the single-most prevalent argument against the right to healthcare: personal responsibility. Or, as I like to call it, selfishness. It is, simply put, the idea that we should all just take care of ourselves. Well, that would be great if that were possible. Personally I’d love to work and make enough money that I could pay for my own medical costs. Who wouldn’t want to be a millionaire, after all. I’m not exaggerating, by the way; my medicals bills have averaged about a million dollars a year. Without laws that prevent me from being discriminated against by health insurance companies, I’d have been on the hook for that—if I was even able to get that care at all. Now, most people touting personal responsibility don’t want to abolish the concept of health insurance. They just want everyone to be responsible for paying for their own insurance.
And that sounds reasonable, at first. Before I got cancer I was working towards that goal, but neither of my part-time jobs offered benefits. So I simply stayed on my parent’s insurance, since I was 23. Here’s the irony though: if I had been a “good, responsible, self-sufficient American adult” I’d have been on my own health insurance when I got diagnosed, and I would be in a much worse position now because of it. Since I haven’t been able to work due to my ongoing treatment, I would have lost that insurance when I had to quit my jobs. I don’t know what I would have done next. I guess I would probably have gotten my own insurance through the state exchange without being denied for my brand new pre-existing condition, which makes two ways Obamacare would have saved my life in that scenario. At any rate, it would have added another layer of difficulty to what is already an almost-impossible situation. I have a super rare cancer that will probably kill, me, after all. I don’t need another thing to worry about.
Last, I need to respond to the idea that food and housing aren’t provided by the government, so healthcare shouldn’t be either. First, this is just factually incorrect. Our government provides food and housing assistance for those who need it, just as Medicaid provides healthcare assistance for those who need it. If you think the government shouldn’t play a role in assisting its most marginalized citizens then that’s another argument for another time. But the fact is we already do have programs in place to assist those in need with these basic components of their right to life. Second, whether or not the government should cover the cost of health care for all its citizens is irrelevant to whether or not we have the right to healthcare.
We have laws and government agencies that ensure our food and housing meet certain standards. The FDA works to make sure companies don’t sell foods contaminated with E Coli, for example, and our housing codes make sure that building materials don’t contain poisons like lead or formaldehyde. These are fairly basic consumer protection measures, designed to keep us from being taken advantage of by profit-driven companies. This same principle applies to our healthcare laws, for now. The Affordable Care Act prevents insurance companies from selling ridiculously cheap plans that provide no meaningful benefits. Obamacare keeps people like me—whose health issues make them unprofitable to insure—from being discriminated against. It means I can’t be taken advantage of just because I happened to get cancer. I can’t be charged more or denied coverage just because I have health issues. These are fairly basic consumer protection measures. And they’re under attack.
The right to healthcare doesn’t necessitate taxpayer-funded universal health coverage through the government. It doesn’t have to be socialized medicine. But at the very least it has to include consumer protection measures that keep the people whose lives depend on health care from being discriminated against. It has to prevent companies from selling cheap plans that cover basically nothing, just as we have laws preventing companies from selling cheap cars that don’t meet safety standards. Whatever we think about the proper roles of a free market or government involvement, we must recognize that the right to life is intimately intertwined with the need for affordable health care for all people. We need common-sense consumer protection laws, whatever form our healthcare system takes. The AHCA being worked on by a handful of senators right now is a brazen assault on such protective measures. It is, simply put, an attack on the Right to Life itself.
June 9, 2017
Podcast Interview
I did an interview on a podcast last week and the episode is up now. You can find it here:https://jeromedanner.net/2017/06/09/episode-41-morgan-bolt-mboltauthor-interview-discussing-pain-and-suffering-as-a-christian/
June 5, 2017
The AHCA is Not Pro-Life
If you support the American Health Care Act, you’ll have a very hard time convincing me you’re actually pro-life. There is nothing pro-life about stripping away our health care laws and leaving the poorest and sickest among us at the mercy of profit-driven insurance companies. Many people who most need health insurance—people just like me—are simply not profitable to fully insure. We need laws and regulations to protect us from attempts to make a profit off us, like annual and lifetime caps for insurance coverage, being charged more because we have health issues, or being denied coverage for our expensive medical conditions. The AHCA guts protective measures like these, prioritizing profit over people. It’s anything but pro-life.
But sadly that’s not exactly surprising. The “pro-life” movement has long focused only on a single issue while ignoring a host of other threats to human life. Worse, many who claim to champion pro-life policies support atrocities like war and capital punishment, not to mention the AHCA and other attacks on our healthcare system that work against their stated goals. That irony and hypocrisy is not lost on those outside conservative Christianity, and it’s part of why increasingly many people are leaving the church and believe it does more harm than good. It breaks my heart to see the church viewed this way, even more so because it is a reasonably fair view.
That’s why we need to rethink what it means to be pro-life. Not just to fix the perception of the church, but to bring consistency to the term and to actually work as agents of God’s love in protecting the inherent value of human life. We need to redefine “pro-life” so it means more than a narrow-minded focus on a single issue. “Pro-life” needs to mean a commitment to protecting and supporting lives wherever they are threatened, no matter what those lives might look like or what they might have done. By contrast, the AHCA implies that only some lives are worth protecting, by virtue of their financial or health status, and others are not. It sends the message that the poor, the sick, and the marginalized are not worth caring for. And that’s about as anti-life as a healthcare policy can be.
But sadly that’s not exactly surprising. The “pro-life” movement has long focused only on a single issue while ignoring a host of other threats to human life. Worse, many who claim to champion pro-life policies support atrocities like war and capital punishment, not to mention the AHCA and other attacks on our healthcare system that work against their stated goals. That irony and hypocrisy is not lost on those outside conservative Christianity, and it’s part of why increasingly many people are leaving the church and believe it does more harm than good. It breaks my heart to see the church viewed this way, even more so because it is a reasonably fair view.
That’s why we need to rethink what it means to be pro-life. Not just to fix the perception of the church, but to bring consistency to the term and to actually work as agents of God’s love in protecting the inherent value of human life. We need to redefine “pro-life” so it means more than a narrow-minded focus on a single issue. “Pro-life” needs to mean a commitment to protecting and supporting lives wherever they are threatened, no matter what those lives might look like or what they might have done. By contrast, the AHCA implies that only some lives are worth protecting, by virtue of their financial or health status, and others are not. It sends the message that the poor, the sick, and the marginalized are not worth caring for. And that’s about as anti-life as a healthcare policy can be.
May 30, 2017
The AHCA and Christian principles
Last week the Congressional Budget Office (CBO) released its assessment of the American Health Care Act (AHCA), and it wasn’t good. Not for anyone who ever has needed or ever will need healthcare, at least. The effects this proposal would have are truly horrifying to me, and it defies all my efforts to understand how anyone could support such a piece of legislation. So, if you believe that the AHCA is good for America, please, I welcome your comments and feedback. I earnestly would love to engage this topic in a respectful discussion and gain some understanding about the reasons people support it. Because when I look at the effects it will likely have I see only a multitude of reasons to oppose this bill.
An estimated 23 million people will become uninsured if the AHCA gets implemented. More insidiously, many people who think they have health insurance could find that their insurance doesn’t actually cover anything meaningful or expensive, as the AHCA would allow states to choose to lighten regulations requiring insurance policies to cover essential benefits. Similarly, states could also choose to allow insurance providers to charge more—often exorbitant amounts—to people with pre-existing conditions. You know, people like me who have required medical treatment in the past and as such are likely to need more in the future. I think what breaks my heart the most though are the cuts to Medicaid that will result in an estimated 14 million more uninsured people through reduced enrollment. That’s 14 million of the most financially vulnerable people in this country who will be without health insurance as a result of the AHCA. That’s 14 million people who might be just like me, with major health issues preventing them from working, forcing them to rely on Medicaid, the last healthcare-related safety net our government offers. Finally, adding insult to injury—on top of the wide range of regulatory and funding cuts that will negatively impact all but the healthy and wealthy in this country—the AHCA includes tax cuts that will disproportionately benefit the wealthy.
The blatant prioritization of money over human lives represented by the AHCA sickens me to my core. First, as an American citizen, I find the AHCA repugnant. A government should protect its own citizens, especially its citizens whose health or finances make them vulnerable. Second, as a Christian I find the AHCA morally reprehensible. Christ calls us to care for the “least of these,” like the poor, the sick, and the marginalized. The AHCA by contrast harms people who happen to have health issues, face poverty, or both. Now, I believe a Government that provides freedom of religion shouldn’t govern by the principles of any one religion, so it should be somewhat irrelevant that the AHCA stands contrary to Christian principles. But it isn’t.
Most of the legislators who sponsored and voted for the AHCA profess to be Christians, and many of them even cited their ideas of Christian principles as reasons to support this bill. Dangerous theology like an unhealthy emphasis on personal responsibility—a cheap euphemism for selfishness and ignoring our shared responsibility to care for the marginalized—contributed a great deal to the passing of the AHCA. So did the appalling idea that people who, in the words of Representative Mo Brooks, “lead good lives” don’t get health issues. I wrote an entire blog post about “leading good lives” here, so I won’t cover that any more now, but it’s important to address the role Christianity has played in the passing of what, by my assessment, is a very unchristian bill. To see Christianity so entwined with a bill that will harm so many tarnishes the very name of Christ. And for that reason, more than any other, the AHCA outrages me.
An estimated 23 million people will become uninsured if the AHCA gets implemented. More insidiously, many people who think they have health insurance could find that their insurance doesn’t actually cover anything meaningful or expensive, as the AHCA would allow states to choose to lighten regulations requiring insurance policies to cover essential benefits. Similarly, states could also choose to allow insurance providers to charge more—often exorbitant amounts—to people with pre-existing conditions. You know, people like me who have required medical treatment in the past and as such are likely to need more in the future. I think what breaks my heart the most though are the cuts to Medicaid that will result in an estimated 14 million more uninsured people through reduced enrollment. That’s 14 million of the most financially vulnerable people in this country who will be without health insurance as a result of the AHCA. That’s 14 million people who might be just like me, with major health issues preventing them from working, forcing them to rely on Medicaid, the last healthcare-related safety net our government offers. Finally, adding insult to injury—on top of the wide range of regulatory and funding cuts that will negatively impact all but the healthy and wealthy in this country—the AHCA includes tax cuts that will disproportionately benefit the wealthy.
The blatant prioritization of money over human lives represented by the AHCA sickens me to my core. First, as an American citizen, I find the AHCA repugnant. A government should protect its own citizens, especially its citizens whose health or finances make them vulnerable. Second, as a Christian I find the AHCA morally reprehensible. Christ calls us to care for the “least of these,” like the poor, the sick, and the marginalized. The AHCA by contrast harms people who happen to have health issues, face poverty, or both. Now, I believe a Government that provides freedom of religion shouldn’t govern by the principles of any one religion, so it should be somewhat irrelevant that the AHCA stands contrary to Christian principles. But it isn’t.
Most of the legislators who sponsored and voted for the AHCA profess to be Christians, and many of them even cited their ideas of Christian principles as reasons to support this bill. Dangerous theology like an unhealthy emphasis on personal responsibility—a cheap euphemism for selfishness and ignoring our shared responsibility to care for the marginalized—contributed a great deal to the passing of the AHCA. So did the appalling idea that people who, in the words of Representative Mo Brooks, “lead good lives” don’t get health issues. I wrote an entire blog post about “leading good lives” here, so I won’t cover that any more now, but it’s important to address the role Christianity has played in the passing of what, by my assessment, is a very unchristian bill. To see Christianity so entwined with a bill that will harm so many tarnishes the very name of Christ. And for that reason, more than any other, the AHCA outrages me.
May 29, 2017
Refocusing, and a New Post Tomorrow
Now that I’ll be posting weekly here as well as every other week on Patreon, it’s time to organize my writing a little more. So, I’ll be using this blog to focus on my thoughts pertaining to cancer, Christianity, healthcare, and their intersection. Any posts about other subjects, like Christianity as it pertains to issues aside from health and cancer, will get posted on my Patreon page. I’ll have a new blog post up here tomorrow, so be sure to look for that, but in the meanwhile you can find a post I wrote today about Memorial Day which you can find here: https://www.patreon.com/posts/memorial-day-11442595
May 27, 2017
A Way to Support my Writing
After about a month of deliberation I at last decided to launch a Patreon page for myself. In short, it provides an easy way for anyone who enjoys my writing to support it financially in return for access to more of my writing. Should you choose to become one of my patrons, you will get exclusive access to weekly single-paragraph blog posts, a monthly full-length blog post, as well as regular updates on my writing projects and ongoing cancer treatment. If this sounds interesting you can find my Patreon page here: https://www.patreon.com/MorganBolt. There’s also a link on the right side of this page; just click on “support my writing.” If this doesn’t sound particularly interesting to you, don’t worry. I’ll still post here regularly and this blog will always be available for your reading enjoyment. Please, do not feel pressured into becoming one of my patrons or feel obligated to do so even if you don’t much care for my writing. I just want to make everyone aware that you have the option of finding more of my writing in another place. Thank you!
May 22, 2017
Ascites, Eating, and Major Manuscript Changes
Well, my estimate from last week was a little off. Thursday’s paracentesis procedure yielded 2.5 liters of fluid, a sizable step up from the “just under one liter” I had predicted earlier. The important point though is it’s gone, and hopefully won’t come back. Hopefully. So far I feel alright; any fluid that is accumulating hasn’t reached the point where it makes me extremely uncomfortable. I’ll take it. On the whole I’m doing alright. I still struggle to catch my breath, but I’m eating more and more normally and getting a little stronger, I think. It's a strange thing that simply being able to eat a semi-reasonable amount of food again is such a source of happiness, but such is life! It’s slow progress, but at least it’s progress. I can lie down flat with my legs straight, I can eat enough to not lose weight, and I’m able to do more and more every day now.
After too-long of a break I’m diving back into my writing projects again, now that I finally feel up to it. Chief among my works in progress is a book on faith and cancer, and currently my main goal is is to reorganize a good chunk of the draft I have. The most helpful part of taking a month or two off from writing a book is the fresh perspective you gain on it. I realize now that a couple chapters are a bit redundant, while I omitted a few topics I decided I want to explore. As such there’s a good amount of copying, pasting, deleting, and rewriting to do even before I get to adding the new content I have yet to write. It’s certainly not the easiest book to write, but I’m quite excited about what it is becoming. Part a retelling of my entire cancer treatment and part an exploration through the lens of cancer of timely and significant theological issues, it’ll be—in my biased opinion—a captivating, thought-provoking read. But I’ll let you judge that for yourself, someday…
After too-long of a break I’m diving back into my writing projects again, now that I finally feel up to it. Chief among my works in progress is a book on faith and cancer, and currently my main goal is is to reorganize a good chunk of the draft I have. The most helpful part of taking a month or two off from writing a book is the fresh perspective you gain on it. I realize now that a couple chapters are a bit redundant, while I omitted a few topics I decided I want to explore. As such there’s a good amount of copying, pasting, deleting, and rewriting to do even before I get to adding the new content I have yet to write. It’s certainly not the easiest book to write, but I’m quite excited about what it is becoming. Part a retelling of my entire cancer treatment and part an exploration through the lens of cancer of timely and significant theological issues, it’ll be—in my biased opinion—a captivating, thought-provoking read. But I’ll let you judge that for yourself, someday…
May 15, 2017
Quick Update
Since my last surgery over a month ago I’ve been dealing on and off with a fluid buildup in the left side of my abdomen. I’ve had it drained a few times but it keeps coming back. This past week we tried aggressive oral hydration (3-4 liters per day) and absolutely no IV fluids to see if that makes a difference, since there seemed to be a correlation between getting IV hydration and the fluid building up. So far it appears to be working. I haven’t grown any more uncomfortable or distended, so as far as I can tell there isn’t a significant increase in fluid, and it’s been a week now. So, this Thursday I’ll head back to Sloan Kettering and they’ll drain it yet again, this time under general anesthetic, which will doubtless be a bit nicer than just a local numbing agent. If you’re really curious, you can look up “paracentesis of loculated ascites” to get an idea of what draining this fluid involves, but the basic idea is pretty simple; stick a needle into my belly and drain it all out. Once the fluid is out—I estimate there’s just under one liter to be drained—I’ll be a lot more comfortable, and hopefully by continuing to drink like a camel and not get any IV fluids it won’t come back this time. We’ll see!
