Being in a fallopian world sounded pretty utopian at the moment.
"Hardly. Having the paperwork done by just one not-for-profit entity with low overhead -- Medicare only spends about three percent on administration -- instead of by numerous profit-sucking, bottom line corporations, not only frees up enough money to provide affordable, quality universal healthcare but also ensures doctors and nurses are well-compensated. It's a no-brainer [thus making it right up your alley, I didn't say]."
Dimina squalled. My sister came in swiftly and whisked her up. "She's been running a fever," Apolitica explained worriedly as she hurried to the bathroom.
"Yeah, she's been feeling pretty crummy lately," Dolt said, looking a little far off. (I mean, more than usual.) He was obviously concerned. I had to admit: for all his faults, Dolton was a loving father.
From the TV, xenophobia burbled: beware medical services-stealing immigrants, warned Glen Blecch.
"Handouts to illegals goes a long way toward making this country sick!" Dolt parroted.
I had to admit this, too: my brother-in-law was a bonehead.
"No," I sighed, "what really makes this country sick is its sickness, in every way. We Americans pay by far the most for healthcare, yet rank miserably down the list in every major healthiness indicator. And as far as the expediency of denying medical services to undocumented aliens, you might want to think twice about that the next time you read about a tuberculosis outbreak in a farm labor camp or a meat-packing plant."
"I don't read."
Imagine my shock.
"I don't need the liberal media telling me how lucky we are to have a Marxist president making America more communist everyday," he ranted. "What happened to good old American self-sufficiency? Why do people think the government owes them handouts? How come -- "
"Dolt!" It was Apolitica, entering from the hallway, carrying her bawling daughter. "Dimina's temperature has shot up to 106. I told you we should have taken her in yesterday. We have to go the emergency room NOW!"
"But...baby -- we can't even pay the other bill we have."
"NOW!" Apolitica repeated, already out the door with her ailing infant.
Dolton snatched his keys from the rent-a-table. "How did this happen?" he moaned.
Was there a rent-a-mirror around?
