Weighing in on Health Care

National Health Care. It's a topic on many people's minds. Typically, the most vocal either strongly approve of a entire system overhaul, with a public option available, or vehemently oppose such actions in the name of a free market with little or no government control, involvement, spending, etc.... Where do I stand? At one point in my life, it would have been a no-brainer, landing solely on the side of the free market. However, after some life experience, I've gotten to where it is a no-brainer on the other side. I read a very interesting opinion the other day by Nicholas Kristof, which is summarized succinctly in this paragraph:

"Throughout the industrialized world, there are a handful of these areas where governments fill needs better than free markets: fire protection, police work, education, postal service, libraries, health care. The United States goes along with this international trend in every area but one: health care."

That needs to change. It's time to dump the entire profit-driven system for a patient-driven system. Right now, as an active-duty member of the US military, we have excellent health-care benefits that focus on the patient, and not on making dollars. The result is my family is healthier than we've been in years. In fact, before joining the military, due to lack of insurance options that were affordable, our family went for 7 years without any insurance. We are very lucky that there were no major illnesses or accidents that would have left us with a lifetime of financial ruin, an all too common tale in this amazing country, and in fact one of leading causes of bankruptcy. To me, this issue is not monetary, but moral. It is not at all surprising that many of the people voicing the biggest complaints about this needed reform are those who would be losing out on health-care related profits. To those who don't want government involvement, this is a system that is already highly subsidized by the government, with heavy tax breaks given for employers offering health-care to their workers, and insurance companies reaping the profits. To conclude, another quote from the same article referenced above:

"I just don’t understand why we may be about to reject health reform and stick with a dysfunctional system that takes away the health coverage of hard-working Americans when they become too sick to work...America may reject reform and stick with a system that drives families into bankruptcy when they get sick. Let’s hope we won’t miss this chance. A public role in health care shouldn’t be any scarier or more repugnant than a public fire department."

All of the opposition is bewildering. And unfortunate.

Finally back blogging

It's amazing how much free time I don't have anymore. During the last couple years of my PhD dissertation, I would start an experiment, and at times have 3-4 hours of waiting for it to be finished. This was quite conducive to blog writing. After finally completing all of my data collection, I was then "writing" my dissertation for 4-5 months, which meant hours of my day were spent sitting at my desk, staring at my laptop, wanting to shove a pencil into my eye, and instead wasting time surfing the internet and writing my blog. So now, I've got a real job. I'm using my education and truly love what I'm doing. And now, not as much time to blog. But, as I looked back on previous posts, I found them humorous, cathartic, and sometimes very narrow minded and realized that I needed to have this outlet again. Plus, any type of writing practice is good. This year is flying by. I have been extremely busy at work up until a couple weeks ago, and I leave tomorrow for 2-weeks of vacation. After that, things will be fairly hectic until the end of the year. I'm approaching several milestones in life. In the next 8 months, my son will turn 12, which means he officially moves from being a kid to a pre-teen. When he first asked me for a cell phone (when he was 7), I told him he had to wait until he was 12. And trust me, he hasn't forgotten my promise. Also, my youngest starts kindergarten. This means all of my kids are in school. For the first time in 12 years, my wife will have no children at home for several hours each day. She will really miss having the kids around, but is also looking forward to her new found freedom. A third milestone is my 35th birthday. I mean, that's old. I don't feel that old. Though I suppose I'm not sure what I thought being 35 would feel like. Working at a university, it is easy to feel young. I'm surrounded by 18-22 year olds. It really hit me the other day how long it's actually been since I was that old when I saw some pictures of a high school acquaintance who was attending their own kids graduation (granted, this woman got pregnant our sophomore year, but still). But, I look at what I've got. Degrees from two great universities. A loving wife of nearly 13 years. Three great kids. A job that the longer I'm here, the more it feels like the job I always dreamed of. Life has been good to me these last 16 years since I left home. To celebrate all of these milestones, I've decided to run a half-marathon. The last couple of months, I've been re-building my cardiovascular fitness and at the same time losing the bulk of my dissertation weight. Starting at the end of August, I will really start training, with the race on October 31 in Miami Beach. I have set a goal of 1 hour 45 minutes, which means I'll have to run 8:00/miles for 13.1 miles. This is definitely feasible, but I need to stay focused on my training and my nutrition. Well, next time will come sooner and I hope to start talking about all of these amazing issues that we're facing as a nation - health care, investing, caring for the poor, weapons of mass destruction, and so many other interesting things. Until then.

I'm Charlie Brown, a die-hard BYU football fan

Well, they did it again. BYU football brought me in and then punched me in the stomach. I feel like Charlie Brown after he was fooled into having Lucy hold a football for him, flat on his back wondering how the hell he allowed himself to be sucked in yet again. This love affair began so long ago. In 1983, my dad moved our family from California to Provo, UT, where he worked on his master’s degree for two years. This put us in Provo for the 1983 and 1984 football seasons. At the time, I was 8-9 years old and just starting to enjoy watching sports. My father graciously took me to most of the games where BYU football was ingrained in my soul. It just so happens, that this was also a time of resounding success for BYU's football team. In 1983, the team went 11-1, finished ranked 7th in the nation, and featured Heisman trophy runner-up Steve Young, a future NFL Superbowl MVP for the San Francisco 49ers. During one memorable game, I even got Steve Young's autograph, a piece of memorabilia that I treasure to this day. Than came 1984. For those of you who despise the BCS system as much as I do, much of the blame falls on this season, squarely on the shoulders of BYU's success. You see, BYU finished 13-0, the only team undefeated in the nation, and were voted as the number one team in the nation by both the AP and the Coaches poll. Yes, a team from the Western Athletic Conference was the undisputed national champion. Well, at least undisputed in the polls. Many, many people were upset at this and it set in motion the exclusive BCS bowl club we have today, that shut's out the mid-major schools in an attempt to preserve traditions of exclusivity of past years of big-name programs like Oklahoma, USC, Michigan, Ohio State, Notre Dame, Penn State, etc.... Now, for a nine-year-old kid living in Provo, UT, I didn't hear any of these rumblings until years later, and was blissfully cocooned in the aura that accompanies a national championship. A few years later in 1990, I watched as BYU upset then #1 ranked Miami and in the same season saw Ty Detmer win the Heisman trophy. A few more years, I was there myself, as an 18-year-old freshman, residing in the dorms and living the dream of attending every home game with a great group of friends. That year, 1994, BYU finished #10 in the nation after trouncing Oklahama in the Copper Bowl 31-6. After a two-year mission, I returned in 1996 to witness Steve Sarkisian lead the team to their first and only New Year's Day bowl game, a 19-15 win over Kansas State in the Cotton Bowl, which ended a 14-1 season ranked #5 in the nation. As the son of an alum, and now an alum myself, there's not much that gets my blood moving like sitting down for BYU football. But recently, it's been so depressing to be a fan. Every time I get my hopes up, they are quickly dashed, leaving only emptiness. In 2000, our legendary coach Lavell Edwards retired after a mediocre 6-6 season. The next season brought with it promise, and the Cougars delivered, started off 12-0 under new coach Gary Crowton. There were talks of being the first non-BCS school to receive an at-large bid to a BCS bowl. And then, they lost the final game of the season, missed out on a BCS bid, and landed in the Liberty bowl, where they got pounded by Louisville. This stomach-punch end to the season is something that fans still haven't overcome. It's been difficult to. 2002 was the first losing season in 29 years, followed by another in 2003, which ended with a crushing shutout at the hands of hated rival Utah (final score: 3-0), which was the first time BYU had been shutout since 1975. In 2004, Crowton led the team to its third losing season in a row, and much to the appeasement of the Cougar fan base, resigned. At this point in my fandom, I was cautiously optimistic about the future of the program. The current coach has done well to bring back the winning seasons, yet the teams seem to fail when the stakes are highest. On paper, 2006 looks great, with a 10-2 record, but to lose to medicore BCS teams Arizona and Boston College? Then, similar things in 2007, with a loss to dreadful UCLA and then to Tulsa to start the season 1-2, only to end up rebounding for a second undefeated conference schedule. So now, I'm coming to the conclusion that BYU can beat up its conference opponents at will, but against even mediocre schools from the BCS conferences, they can't hang. And that's depressing. And I keep getting sucked in, only to be thoroughly disappointed. It happened three times this season, which started out as the "Quest for Perfection", a theme adopted by the team, knowing that to be included in the BCS party, they would have to go undefeated. They started out well, trouncing UCLA 59-0, followed by another shutout a week later of Wyoming 44-0, eventually making it to 6-0, ranked 8th in the nation. Then came the first real test of the season, conference opponent TCU ranked #24, which blasted BYU 32-7 in a nationally televised Thursday night game. Ouch. So much for perfection. After that humiliating loss, BYU won the rest of its games and was set for a showdown with Utah. BYU had climbed back to 14th in the rankings with a 10-1 record. Utah was sitting at #7 at 11-0, poised to secure its second BCS bid with a victory. What a better time for BYU to rise to the occasion and play spoiler against their biggest rival. The outcome? A painful 48-24 ass kicking, sending the Cougars to the corner with their tail between their legs while watching the Utes ride off into the proverbial sunset, receiving a Sugar Bowl bid to play against national powerhouse Alabama. The shock of this loss, and not just the loss, but also the way BYU was trounced, was like a kick to the groin. The reward? Another Las Vegas Bowl bid against University of Arizona, a very mediocre Pac-10 team, unranked with a 7-5 record. What a better way to get the ugly taste of the Utah game out of our mouths than to go out and crush a BCS team from the Pac-10. This was literally my mind set leading up to the game. I was not hoping for a victory, but a crushing win, something like 42-10. And shoot, the 16th ranked team in the nation with a 10-2 record should be able to do this to a 7-5 middle of the road BCS conference team, right? Once again, I had convinced myself. Arizona 31 - BYU 21. And once again, I was crushed.

Hail to the Chief!

Today, ODS really started. And I thought being woken up by someone yelling in the hallway outside my door was unpleasant. That was downright peaceful compared to what happened this morning. Sometime between the hours of 3 and 4 AM, I was abruptly shaken from my slumber by what I thought may have been artillery fire. This loud, booming, shaking was accompanied by shouting which can only be described as guttural. I was out of bed, but still mostly asleep, and completely disoriented. It took me what felt like forever to slip my shorts on and find my arm-band. I felt this sense of panic rise up inside of me that was both uncomfortable and unfamiliar. After taking a few deep breaths in a fruitless attempt to calm myself, I was about to get outside and stand in the hall with the other members of my company, when I thought a bomb went off outside my room, followed by bellowing, "If you're not outside this door in 30 seconds, you will regret it for the rest of your life." Now, I don't know about you, but this definitely did not increase my motivation to leave the room. As I slowly opened the door, I noticed what must have been my mistaken bomb, a distinct shoe scuff that had been applied with a well-timed kick to get us out in the hallway. The only reason I identified this mark so quickly is because I soon witnessed this tactic in use on another member of my company's door. Soon, we were all standing outside at the position of attention, listening to this man bark commands at us. I took this opportunity to slowly scan the hallway, and observed that everyone looked as disheveled as I felt. The poor guy across from me even had his shorts on backwards. As I was slowly coming to, I started to actually listen to the man bellowing at us. Found out he was a Navy Chief and would be in charge of our sorry states for the next 5 weeks. At this time, I actually was able to relax and see the humor in this situation. I mean, when you look at it, here's this funny looking dude, marching up and down screaming his head of at nothing in particular, and he expects us to call him "chief". Up until this point in my life, on the rare occasion that I had referred to someone as "chief", it had not been a term of endearment. So, the use of "chief" for this guy making an ass of himself in an attempt to intimidate, seemed very appropriate. I even got to the point that I had to hold back laughter at this entire ridiculous situation. Here I was, standing outside my hallway in Navy PT clothes, watching this funny man pace back and forth yelling orders at us. In a sense, I felt like I was in 7th grade gym class again. Luckily, I did manage to hold in my laughter, someone a company mate of mine did not quite do. In what seemed like 15 milliseconds, chief was in his face screaming, "IS THERE SOMETHING FUNNY ABOUT THIS?" To which he replied, "NO, SIR!" Uh-oh. This was NOT the right thing to say. Apparently, an officer is to be referred to at "Sir/Ma'am", but saying this to a chief is almost considered derogatory. The correct reply was , "NO, CHIEF!" But, he didn't give this response. The volume of chief's voice went up 10-fold and the saliva started to fly when he started, "SIR???? I AM NOT A SIR!!!! I WORK FOR A LIVING!!! NEVER CALL ME SIR!!!! YOU WILL REFER TO ME AS CHIEF!!! YES, CHIEF; OR AYE, AYE, CHIEF; BUT NEVER SIR!!!!" Now, to someone new to the military, it was a bit difficult to tell who was an officer and who was a chief, but making this split second decision became a crucial one for each of us to make. Chief would drop up on our face quicker than you can say, "YES, CHIEF!" and have us doing push-ups until we wanted to cry. If we really pissed him off, we would head to the infamous sand pit. This looked like a beach volleyball court, but without the nets and girls in bikinis. And, the sand seemed to be specially formulated for jaggedness, as kneeling in the stuff would slice up your knees quickly. Trips to the sand pit were threatened often, but luckily rarely carried through. After a morning with chief, we collectively got our sh*t together and did pretty well to stay out of trouble for the rest of our time there. We had seen what chief could become that first morning, and during a particularly memorable trip to the sand pit, and wanted to avoid this at all costs. Turns out, he was a pretty cool guy when you caught him during off hours or later off base when we were finally allowed some liberty, but don't mess with him while you're supposed to be doing military things, or watch out! As time went on, our quality of life slowly improved. We still had to march everywhere, carrying our ridiculous water bottles, and attend hours and hours of terribly boring powerpoint lectures, but evenings and weekends we were given our cell phones back and at times even allowed to go off base and get a decent meal. Aside from push-ups when we got in trouble, we did very little organized PT, which was very disappointing. I was hoping to have ample chance to work-out as a group and use this time to get in better shape. This did not happen, though due to the quality of food, I still lost 15 lbs while I was there. For the most part, I think the important information could have been passed on in about a weeks time, not the 5 weeks that we had to endure. I made some wonderful friends, but was happy to get out of there upon graduation, 5-long weeks later.

First few days of ODS

Any feelings of contentment I felt that first night quickly evaporated at 4:45 the next morning (yes, that’s not a typo – 4:45 AM) when we were awakened by someone in the hallway outside our rooms yelling to get up. I was warned by some of the members of my company with prior military experience that this may happen, yet wasn’t fully prepared to be woken up that early by being yelled at. Because it was our first day and we hadn’t been issued uniforms yet, we had to wear these smelly, blue, one-piece jumpsuits. Turns out, the guy who woke us up was a naval officer who was in charge of us just for that day. He was actually a fair, kind guy that I was sad to see go. I learned a few things quickly that morning. When anyone in a position of authority enters the area in which you’re occupying, be it a classroom, hallway of our barracks, whatever, the first member of the company to notice the authority figure shouted loudly, “Attention on deck!” This meant to stop whatever you’re doing and stand completely still awaiting instruction. Now, if no one noticed a person of authority and we carried on doing our business, this was a bad thing – as in, you’ll do push-ups until you cry if someone doesn’t notice quickly. This got so bad, that we started posting a lookout just to make sure and call, “Attention on deck!” whenever someone of authority entered. Soon after our instructions, we were taken to breakfast, or “chow” as they call it in the Navy. This seemed odd to me, as I always associated the word “chow” with animal food, like Purina Dog Chow. Little did I know, though should have had the foresight to see this, it turns out that “chow” is actually a very appropriate name for the food you receive in a Navy cafeteria. After a breakfast of runny, powdered eggs, “sausage” patties (they tasted vaguely like sausage, but were more like jerky than any sausage I’ve had before), “pancakes” (though, I never have had crispy pancakes) with syrup, and a tall glass of watery orange juice. Thankfully, they also had a fresh fruit/salad bar, which over the course of my 5 weeks would become the source of most of my meals. After morning chow, we were shuttled back to our barracks to weigh in and have our heights measured. Keep in mind, we still had these terrible jumpsuits on and had just eaten a fairly large breakfast. I weighed in at about 10 lbs more than I was expecting to. Nearly everyone was in the same situation, with heavy jumpsuits and full belly’s. It soon became apparent that this was their way of padding the statistics – if they showed that our company lost a good amount of weight during our time there, they could declare their fitness regimen a success. What a better way than start with inflated weights of each company member. The first day was a blur, we went through a lot of administrative stuff, started our classroom studies, were issued two sets of Navy physical training (PT) gear, some Navy sweats (the old-fashioned kind that your dad wore in the mid 80s to go jogging in), and a blue water bottle. These PT clothes would be our sole uniforms for the first week, as our real uniforms weren’t going to be ready until the next weekend. This meant two things; first, we could ditch the stinky jumpsuits. Second, we had two t-shirts and two pairs of shorts to wear for the remainder of the first week. That didn’t really hit me until day three when I had nothing but smelly clothes to wear. In addition, we were instructed that our water bottles always needed to be at least half-way full and we must carry them with us at all times. There was no exception to this rule, unless we enjoyed push-ups until tears, as we found out when someone didn’t take their water bottle into the bathroom with them. The afternoon was also spent in class and we went straight to evening chow. Evening chow was consistently disappointing, even by cafeteria standards. I would stomach a few bites, choke it down with some salad, and drink a lot of water, our only allowed beverage except blue Powerade. After dinner as was the case every evening, we were free, though free is a very relative term. Not free to call home. Not free to go off base for a decent meal. Not free to visit any of the restaurants on base. Not free to even work out. We were instructed to study for our classes, under no circumstance change out of our PT clothes, and drink at least 4 bottles full of water, as we had urinalysis the next morning. Now, that’s 4 liters of water right before bed (which is just more than a gallon). I must have gotten up to pee 5-6 times that night. We were woken up the next morning at 3:45. Yes, that is 3:45 AM. I don’t think I have ever seen the clock say that until this morning. We had to stand in huge line and receive our pee bottles, then enter the bathroom 3 at a time and fill them up. Not too difficult a task normally, but as this was essentially our drug test, we had to be supervised as to not swap urine or whatever. And supervise they did. They physically had to see the urine exiting your body and entering the bottle. This meant I had a guy staring at my penis while I was attempting to pee into a tiny bottle. This may sound humorous, and looking back it is, but at the time I got stage fright so bad that I could not pee. I had to pee. Badly. 1 gallon of water before bed will do that to you. But I couldn’t. I stood there for nearly 15 minutes, the entire time having this guy staring at me. I was pushing so hard I thought I was going to tear something. I finally relaxed when I thought about what a ridiculous situation I was in and how funny it would be later. I started laughing to myself and finally, I started to pee. I filled up my bottle and got out of there quick. That day, we did the physical readiness test (PRT), which includes push-ups (max in 2 minutes), sit-ups (max in 2 minutes) and a 1.5-mile run. I got through it and managed to pass. Surprisingly, nearly a quarter of our class didn’t. At first, this made me happy, as we would get to do more PT. Once again, this place had a way of disappointing me. After more classroom time, we were done with another day. We were told that those who didn’t pass the PRT were required to go and workout at the gym every night, while the rest of us had to stay in the barracks and study. So, if I would have slacked off during the test, I could have gone to the gym every night? Instead, I busted my butt and my reward is study time in the barracks? This place blows. Little did I know what was coming next.

Reporting to Officer Development School

Part of me has always been intrigued with the military. I consider myself quite patriotic and am internally filled with pride whenever I see someone in military uniform or hear songs that celebrate our great nation. I never really considered actually joining the military until recently, mainly because I don't deal well with what I like to call Idiots In Charge (IIC). It's hard enough to work for someone who you can mentally run circles around, but when that person also screams in your face and will make you do push-ups until you puke, let's just say that I would not have handled this well. I've never attended military bootcamp (well, until recently, but I'll get to that in a moment), so I had no personal experiences from which to draw, but all accounts I've received have been similar to my fears, that is some IIC screaming at you for whatever he/she felt like. So, instead of joining the military, as some of my friends did, to take advantage of things like the GI bill to attend college and so forth, I put myself through undergraduate and graduate school, along the way having amassed enough student debt to fund a small nation, and set out to find a job. And I did. I found a great job - doing something I enjoy, good pay, excellent benefits, even paying down some of this student debt. The thing was, I had to join the military. The Navy to be specific. This frightened me at first, not because I may be called upon to give my life in the service of our nation or move to various locations around the world, but I really didn't know how I would handle boot camp and IICs. I was assured that since I have an advanced degree and would be starting off my bootcamp as a high-ranking junior officer, I would have nothing to worry about. My recruiter even went so far as to call what I had to go through, "Camp Cupcake." As non-manly as this may sound to many, I was perfectly okay with this, but in the back of my mind, having IICs screaming at me scared me to death. Not because they are particularly scary, but because I had heard that the military doesn't take too kindly to recruitees who tell the IICs to "shut the hell up" or say "I'd be pissed too if I spent the last 10 years sanding the deck of a ship and I spent mine getting an education and you outranked me" things of that nature. I tend to not hold my temper or my tongue, especially with IICs. This has gotten me in trouble on several occasions in my life, and I didn't think it would mix well with the military. I looked at what bootcamp entailed - first off, for someone with an advanced degree like me, they called it Officer Development School. It was a 5-week indoctrination program in Newport, RI. We were to be schooled in military history, etiquette, bearing, uniforms, etc....also, an intense physical fitness regimen (this actually sounded great) 5-weeks? I can probably bite my tongue for 5 weeks. So I did it. I actually signed on the dotted line 11 Sept, something unplanned but very fitting. I reported to training, without my wife and kids, on 14 Sept and checked into this dreary old place called King Hall. For the first time in many years, I had a roommate who wasn't my wife. We were given a whole list of things - things we couldn't do and things we had to do. Couldn't do - cell phones, go off base, wear civilian clothes, hands in pockets, speak during meals, eat dessert, talk in class, talk while marching, etc.... Had to do - rooms spotless with beds made just perfectly at all times, march to class, march to meals, eat only during meal times (yes, I lost like 15 lbs. in 5 weeks), stay with a buddy at all times, stay on base. Uh-oh. This was going to tougher than I thought. I'm 33 years old, have a PhD, three children, and you're going to treat me like a 5-year-old? When we're finished at night with everything you're telling me I can't my kids and say good night? Who do you think you are? And then, I reminded myself, it's only 5 weeks. If you're going to get all worked up the first day over these petty rules, you're not going to last 1 day, let alone 5 weeks. So I bit my tongue and pressed onward. There were 36 of us assigned to my company, and from what I could tell, most of the people were great individuals. We had a get to know you session on the first night and I went to bed feeling like I just may be able to make it.

Been awhile, misc. ramblings

I haven't written in too long. The last few months, I've been extremely busy, but things have settled down now just in time for the presidential election so I hope to be posting more frequently. For the first time in my life, I don't know whom I'm going to vote for. As I discussed in an earlier post, I am still feeling very betrayed by the Republican Party. Before the vice presidential picks, I was quite certain that I would vote for Obama. However, I do not like Biden, and I really like Palin, which is starting to swing me back to possibly voting for McCain. I do feel like John McCain is completely out of touch with the struggles average Americans face on a daily basis, but the same can be said about nearly every politician. Having personally lived at or below the poverty level my entire adult life, I have great empathy for those living there. Contrary to what many believe, I do not think that all those who live in poverty are lazy or choose to stay there. I've seen too many people working multiple jobs, 80-90 hours a week, year after year, and barely manage to make ends meets, to share those views. I guess my internal struggle is based on the question of the role of government in our lives. I have been raised to believe that all government intervention is bad, save the military. However, life experience has taught me otherwise. I literally would not be where I am today without help from the government, in the form of grants, health-care for my children, subsidized student loans, state-subsidized education (both for myself and my children), and many other things. On the other hand, I also know that the government does not have all of the solutions to life's problems. I do believe that a super-strong central government can be very dangerous. So, what am I going to choose? Still not sure. On one side, I am personally very conservative on social issues. Abortion as a form is contraception is evil and will some day be punished by God. So will homosexuality. But, I feel the same way about any sexual relationship outside the bonds of marriage, in addition to drinking alcohol and using tobacco. So, my question to the republicans, where's the constitutional amendment on cohabitation? Why is no one pushing to have alcohol repealed once again? It's this selective moral outrage on issues of political convenience that really bothers me. Which gets me back to another point I made previously - I feel more and more that the government should not legislate religious beliefs. And when I look at the above list of things that I morally disagree with, they are all rooted in my religious beliefs and I want the government as far away from my religion as possible. I also feel very strongly about helping my fellow man. Christ spent his entire life helping to elevate others, both spiritually and temporally. In a perfect world, everyone would be doing there own part to help each other and the government would not need to be involved. But, I personally have benefited immensely from government assistance, allowing me ultimately to move on to a different station in life. So, even though government is not the best possible option, are there any better ones available? To this question, I don't have an answer.