The Value of Gas Station Cinamon Rolls

I know that no one does this but me. It’s my secret defense against a world that continues to disappoint, frustrate, and aggravate.

There’s a shop around the corner that sells my rescue remedy. Sometimes it’s a bottle, sometimes it’s a bar, sometimes it’s cold and sometimes it’s hot. And on the really bad days—more frequent of late, it seems—my remedy might be a combination of these ingredients.

I eat.

I’m not one of those foodies who seem to be all over the TV extolling the virtues of chocolate covered ants, or wolverine toenails with ceviche. I prefer the gas station cinnamon rolls to those you get in a bakery and I like my cold drinks with as many syllables as possible.

As a result of my caloric-clad cowardice, my inability to confront the issues and the people that drive me to find my ho-ho-ho in a plastic wrapper, I am truly the bigger person. Bigger not because I turn the other cheek, but because I have more cheek to turn—chins too.

Another result of my rescue remedy is that I have spent more time with doctors than I would prefer. Blood tests, treadmills, HDL and LDL are now a part of my vocabulary. I make monthly trips to the pharmacy and am constantly surprised by how much money goes into so few pills.

I take the pills and the stress tests because, however frustrating everyday life can be, I’m not done with it yet. I would like to live long enough to be able to give my wife the kind of life that she deserves.

So my health is important to me and I pay a premium to maintain it. And like many, the dollar cost of that premium keeps going up far faster than my salary.

Don’t get me wrong, I know I am very fortunate to have access to any kind of insurance coverage. But I also know that having less money to pay the other expenses of daily life because of it is one of the reasons that my car seems to stop at the corner store.

Being sick in this country is frightening: more frightening than anything they could come up with on television, or in the movies. For an increasing number of us—even with coverage—it is the nightmare from which you never awake.

The simple doctor visit, with the odd test and prescriptions, can be make a sizable dent in the family budget, but if hospitals and specialists become involved then not just their health, but their economic future can easily be jeopardized.

I am not a stone. I would love a chance to drive a fancy sports car, live in one of those McMansions that were so popular a couple of years ago and have a big enough yard to have more than one dog. I want all of that, but I know that it will have to wait until my bank balance can support it. If I get seriously sick, I do not have the same luxury of deferred gratification. I have a simpler choice: follow the doctor’s orders, wherever they lead, or wait for nature to take its course.

And once you get sick, you increase your risks not only for related disorders, but also that your insurance company will only selectively cover your expenses, or drop your coverage entirely.

Seen in those terms, every trip to the corner store for a flavored, or frozen, or chocolate-covered anything threatens my life, my health and my family’s future.

Great: more stress.

It’s like wearing a Velcro suit in a velour-covered world: once you start down this path, it can take a real effort to break loose.

In some respects I am more fortunate than others who experience congenital disorders, my problems are entirely of my own making. Cutting back and cutting out, walking the dog more and finding other ways to work out can significantly impact my health issues. This in turn will reduce my need for medication and the associated costs.

Sounds all very rational and straightforward, but my car keeps stopping at the store. And will keep stopping until I can address the underlying issues that make junk food so attractive to me.

My mental health and my physical health are connected around my ability to manage stress. There are healthier alternatives to inhaling a pint of Cherry Garcia ice cream, but none nearly as enjoyable.

My brother keeps trying to get me to take up boxing, or some other physical activity. He claims that beating up a bag will be just as satisfying as anything I could eat. I understand that there are people for whom that is true, but to me, it makes as much sense as writing down what’s bothering you on a piece of paper and flushing it down the toilet. I could never do that out of fear that the toilet would back up.

A component of the current discussion about healthcare has been the need to get consumers more involved in their own care. The assumption is that having an accurate picture of the cost of care will encourage us all to get healthier and the healthier we get, the less we will need medical care and the cost will go down. It’s a lovely idea and based on sound economic theory, but people are already afraid to get sick. Sticker shock is not going to get me to go to the gym either, but it will get me to have another cookie.

There is no doubt that fear is an excellent motivator: it was responsible for the high level of engagement in the recent town hall meetings on this issue. But comfort and security are perhaps more powerful: this is perhaps why the couch always seems to win out over the exercise bike.

A lot of ink has been already spilled on this topic and I certainly don’t claim that I have any new insights, but I believe this is too important a conversation to be left to insurance companies and politicians.

I keep coming back to the idea that this entire debate is, first and foremost, a conversation about values. What kind of a country would oblige so many of its citizens to live in fear of disease?

The rights recognized in the Declaration of Independence are fundamental to the American character, regardless of where you stand on the political spectrum. Of the big three—life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness—the notion of a “right to life” is clearly galvanizing. Liberty and happiness are important, but they are meaningless without life. Should we really be drawing a distinction between life and health? Between happiness and health?

Reforming healthcare goes to the heart of the question of what the country stands for. The health of any community is a reflection of the health of its citizens. Safe water and effective sanitation are basic to any model of communal living. We demand the government intervene at the threat of pandemic and we volunteer to give blood in the event of disaster. Even the most vehement of libertarians support the notion of a common good.

And if you don’t accept the notion of being your brother’s keeper then you should appreciate that providing access to basic healthcare to the many will reduce the cost of healthcare for the individual. Hospitals spend millions of dollars every year providing care to those uninsured patients that we have heard so much about. There isn’t a healthcare facility that could stay in business if they didn’t pass those costs along to the rest of us.

This is the essential pro-life discussion and should not be hijacked by the misdirection of “death panels”, “Obamacare” and socialism. It is not hyperbole to note that this is a conversation about what a 21^st century America is about and what it stands for. And if you accept that there is some minimum standard for the health of the public then I am convinced that people of good will can develop a practical plan to make that happen.

As the holidays are approaching, I look forward to the opportunity to watch “A Christmas Carol” the essential holiday fable. Early in the story, Scrooge is told that there are many who would rather die then go to the work houses that were so common in Dickens’ time. Scrooge’s response is that if they would rather die, “they had better do it, and decrease the surplus population.”

By the end of the story, Scrooge is able to change his fate by extending his hand to those less fortunate than himself. By investing in his neighbors, he enriches himself. This is not an idea unique to Dickens, or Christmas, but, I would submit, part of the national identity.

Just as the time has come for me to take responsibility for my health and my future and stop using food as a band-aid, we must decide that investing in healthcare for all is the only responsible thing to do.

I have to go now and take the dog for a walk.

--Graham Campbell
Associate Director