Diary of a Palin death panel survivor

MY MOTHER AND FATHER are 85 and 86 years old respectively. They live in Britain, so if they became ill they would be prime candidates to be condemned by a socialist death panel under the UK’s socialized health service… at least according to US Fox pundit and erstwhile presidential candidate Sarah Palin.

Three weeks ago my father became ill, on return from a holiday in the USA. What then happened? Did he survive the death panel described by Palin?

My father was complaining of steadily more intense back-ache and sharp, stabbing pains in his legs. (He had fallen in the US, but seemed to show no ill effects till after his return to the UK. Although he was heavily insured for medical problems while in the US, he adamantly refused to be taken to an ER for a check-up after the fall).

A home visit by his National Health Service doctor indicated no apparent damage such as broken bones. Pain killers and bed rest were prescribed. When the pain persisted through the night my mother phoned for medical assistance. A middle-of-the-night doctor’s visit again found no apparent cause, so arrangements were made for an ambulance to take him into one of the city’s two large NHS hospitals for tests.

I flew over from my home in the US.

For US readers, it should be understood that at no stage during this process are doctors or nurses asking questions about health insurance providers, insurance plans, co-pays or whatever. There are no costs or bills or financial concerns for my parents. This is simply a no-cost service for them… the reality of free health care at the point of delivery from cradle to grave as the NHS’s founding fathers put it.

Two days and a night in hospital for x-rays, other tests and observation, confirmed the most likely cause of the pain was soft tissue damage, bruising, caused in the fall. The appropriate care was bed rest and physiotherapy. He was discharged and taken home by ambulance, with a report for his family doctor at the nearby clinic.

The next home visit was from the Community Matron working out of my mother and father’s local health clinic. She adjusted the medication and arranged for the necessary (free) presciption to be issued. She called for a further visit by nurses from the Intermediate Care Team later that day and continuing for as long as needed… as well as assessments by the team’s occupational and physio therapists.

The occupational therapist arrives in the afternoon to do an initial assessment on what is needed to ease life. The physiotherapist puts my father through his paces and advises on exercises that he can do in bed. Two nurses arrive that evening to do a pre-night time examination and some exercises. They were back first thing the next morning and again in the evening. The physio returns with a walking frame, a stool to help with washing, a frame for the toilet and a commode.

That day a social worker from the local authority also arrived for a two-hour interview about the long-term care needs for both my parents to help keep them safely in their own home living an independent life.

The basic care plan is going to be a visit in the morning by a care worker to check my parents are both up and moving, breakfast is sorted, medicines taken, laundry put in the washer. A second visit in the evening will check on the day, evening meal, medications and preparations for the night. Once a week a care worker will collect a shopping list to supplement the weekly delivery of frozen meals. There’s a discussion about what can be done to help maintain and even improve my parent’s social life.

The house will be fitted with fire alarms plus an emergency call button with my parents having pendants and fall monitors, all linked to the local authority 24/7 call centre. A key safe on the outside of the house will give the care workers and emergency services access to the house. The social worker apologises, my parents will need to pay for the call centre monitoring, the UK equivalent of about $1-a-day.

The care plan will be free if my parents have less than £25,000 — about $37,000 — in savings, but will be capped regardless at £200 a week — about $300. As my parents already receive £120 a week to subsidise cleaning, gardening and the likes, their costs are likely to be minimal.

All health care costs were, are and will remain zero.

Three weeks in we have once again phoned in the early hours for advice from a night doctor regarding pains near my father’s right lung, fearing possible infection. The Community Matron confirmed his lungs and heart were sounding OK early the following morning, diagnosing possible constipation.

On a Sunday we phoned for advice when my father complained his legs were feeling cold, fearing a problem with circulation in his legs. Two nurses arrived within 20 minutes and stayed for 30 minutes. Again all clear.

The physio and occupational therapist have schooled my father to safely negotiate the stairs.

The house has been measured ready for installing more grab rails inside and outside to help when my parents move around. A spare walking frame as arrived. The key safe as been installed. The fire alarms and monitoring system will be fitted early next week. The bath is fitted with a chair to help lower my father into the bath. The local pharmacist will be delivering the medical presciptions, pre-sorted into dated and timed doses from now on.

A community nurse will visit later today to discuss my mother’s medical needs.

Long-term care starts on Monday.

And we’ve had numerous chats with nurses, carers and friends about the differences between the US — where I live — and the UK. People are baffled and flabbergasted by the attitudes in the US on health care. The public option was not as strong as the UK system, and similar public-based philosophies in some 50+ other countries, but it was a “no-brainer” comments one friend.

The nurses are angry at the misrepresentations of their work in the US. One, who worked with US-based health insurance plans earlier in her career, recounts tales of medical incompetence, inefficiency and cynicism with open contempt.

So, my elderly father is still in pain, though less, he still needs medication and he still needs nursing care. But he has survived the UK’s socialized death panels to live another day.

Many elderly people in the US — indeed, even many with insurance in their 30s, 40s and 50s — might wish they had access to such “death panel” care from a socialized care system, rather than the pay-or-die dictats they get from the US for-profit, private anti-social health insurance industry. The opposite of “socialized” might simply be described as “uncivilized”.

They might also inquire why Sarah Palin tells lies about the UK health service while availing herself of the similar “socialized” Canadian health care system.

Health costs… The cost of 911 compared to 999

HOW does US health care match up to, say, health care in the UK… so-called “socialized” healthcare?

Well, as a UK citizen now living in the US with my US-born wife I can give some real-life, like-for-like examples.

Some years ago at my home in London, UK, I had chest pains. I also collapsed unconscious in the bathroom. My wife dialled 999.

A year ago in my new home in Portland, Oregon, USA, I had chest pains again. I did not collapse, but in my later 50s I decided it would be prudent to seek some help. This time I did my own dialling, I called 911.

How did the two experiences compare? Well, I’m still alive to write this.

In the UK my recollection is hazy: I woke up facing a guy dressed in a bright green biker suit. In many emergencies UK first-responder help arrives on a motorcycle (with its own flashing lights, sirens… and de-fibrilator). The white ambulance arrived some minutes later. And the police car.

Suitably wired up, I was carried down the stairs and put to bed in the back of the ambulance. Our local casualty department — the UK equivalent of the ER — was about three miles away.

For the next three or four hours I lay in bed trailing wires, curtained off, listening to the steady and reassuring beep of the monitor. Nurses and doctors came and went, questions asked and some tests done.

All clear. A panic attack, the outcome of stress.

In Portland I could hear the fire tender’s siren as I lay on my back on the floor (ready for CPR!), so I knew help was on the way. The white ambulance arrived soon after. So did the police car. Wired up I was driven the three or so miles to the hospital. Again I listened to the monitor. Hours later I was home again. Too much stress.

So, what was the difference? Well, as far as I can recall, medically probably not a lot.

But there was one notable difference. In the US the fire fighters asked for the name of my insurance company. In the ambulance I was asked for the name of my insurance company and told we were going to a nearer hospital than the one run by my insurance company, but not to worry.

At the hospital I was again asked for the name of my insurance company. A nurse phoned to check. Why had I not gone to the other hospital? The guy in the ambulance said the shorter journey would be better.

In the UK I never heard anything more.

In the US the bills started to arrive. One from the fire service. Another from the ambulance company. One from the hospital I’d been taken to. And another from the hospital of my own insurance company, even though I’d never received any care from that hospital. Total: $2,500.

I’m a teacher, so I have decent benefits. I only had to pay $250.

If I were in the UK and I had chest pains? I’d dial 999. In the US? I’d lie down and think about it, picture my orphaned kids, feel my stress level rise… swallow hard and dial 911. Many don’t.

In the UK they call it the NHS — the National Health Service. It’s driving principle is to provide universal health care to all, free at the point of delivery, from the cradle to the grave. Surveys show that it is more popular and dear to the UK citizen than the royal family. Politicians meddle with it at their peril, as they say.

Do the Brits complain about it? Incessantly.

In the US it’s called the health industry. But in a land where the word “service” drips from the lips of every pompous politician I cannot recall it being used in association with health care, indeed you don’t hear the word “care” much either. It’s the health industry. The bottom line is return for the shareholder. It’s not about health, care or service.

There are other examples of the two systems I have experienced.

My dear son was born in the early evening in a London hospital after my wife had been in labour since the early hours. For next six months she and our new baby would be together while she received her full salary (by law). I got two weeks off too (by law). For the following six months my wife received half her salary to care for our son. Her job would have been protected (by law) for a further year had she wanted to take unpaid leave.

When we wanted a second child the natural process didn’t work, despite much effort and numerous (free) tests on the NHS. Even the porn mags (catering to most respectable tastes) to help me do my bit were free. We adopted a dear daughter.

The adoption screening was exhaustive and exhausting over many months, but we weren’t expected to buy our baby and certainly the notion that we should buy a baby from another country was simply viewed by all concerned as beyond the pale.

We have not had a baby in the US. However, several of my colleagues have.

They don’t seem to get paid maternity leave, apart from sick leave they have saved up. They also seem to have to pay bills for the process.

Many also appear to give birth by ceasarean section as a matter of course. Many expectant mothers seem to want a natural birth, but expect a surgical delivery… babies are expected to adhere to a nine-to-five, five-day working week. In the UK a section birth is considered to be an emergency procedure, the preference being for natural birth, even if it is the early hours of a Sunday morning.

Young children also become ill, a great worry for their parents. Fever in the middle of the night. We used to call the doctor and then leave the lights on to identify the house when the night doctor would visit to see our child. I always found it interesting to look out of the window waiting for the night doctor to see neighbouring houses, with their elderly and young, their stressed and eccentric awake.

The night doctor was free. Did we complain? Yes, the night doctor was always too slow in coming. Why weren’t more on duty, isn’t it obvious that children and the elderly get ill in the night and need care?

Of course, my Republican friends (well, I have one) point out that it’s not free. It’s paid for by taxes. And that means people who don’t need these services subsidize those that do.

Well, that’s true. Except UK tax payers who do get an NHS pay less tax than US taxpayers who don’t get health care.

More to follow…