To argue, as so many are apt to do, over the latest edition of the Repeal and Replace law is pointless at this stage. The Senate has yet to deal with it, and the pointlessly rushed House bill takes a bad law, Obamacare, and makes it far worse. How it will end up remains a sufficiently long way off as to make it a pointless discussion at this time. It’s bad policy.
But one aspect, coverage of pre-existing conditions, is at the core of the debate over whatever eventually is enacted, and it’s game on for the battle over the saddest stories designed to persuade the nation that people who suffer from pre-existing conditions can’t be left out. There are two thrusts to this argument*, the first being that everyone has or will have a pre-existing condition at some point, the purpose of which is to make this an issue that touches each of our lives so that we see the personal benefit in supporting coverage.
The second is that those who suffer pre-existing conditions aren’t bad people, didn’t do something to deserve it such that their problems are unworthy of our concern and the basic appeal to emotion, the sad stories of those who will be hurt. And indeed, the stories can be very sad.
When my child was first diagnosed, I struggled with uncharacteristic rage. I felt as if other families were enclosed in a smug bubble, spared the understanding that misfortune can be random and inexplicable. Over the years, I have learned that anger was sadly misplaced. I have watched tragedy touch too many. Schadenfreude is no remedy. Continue reading

