Americans used to make fun of Party organ Pravda. Even Russians joked about what their newspaper printed. And now America has the same thing. Media organs beholden to Party. And nobody outside the Party believes a word from them collectively. But it's worse in America because that complicity between media and Party is done voluntarily.
I was waiting for this tweet and pleased to see it this morning. But acting on this might require the parents changing their citizenship. And it might lead to unending anguish and only to continued anguish, right up to the bitter end. Apparently that is what the medical experts determined. For all that I know challenging British and European courts here might be extremely careless.
Where it does strike readers as cruel for the same courts to disallow the parents bringing their child home to die. The thinking is most likely the courts predicting the parents flight to get their child experimental treatment, and that following treatment and temporary reprieve the child will grow up draining medical resources, and only that, with no chance of ever being productive citizen.
Americans tend to think, so what? That fairly describes a large portion of our population.
Drudge links to an item about Steven Hawking bringing his audience to tears. Slim to zero chance the child will grow up and command an audience, still a little bit odd, don't you think? Hawking genius having determined that Trump could push the planet over the brink, I wonder what Hawking genius has to say about this.
British citizens raised funds to cover the cost for the boy. Are they willing to keep that up and continue raising funds to cover continued expenses for as long as it takes? We see this decision does not match the wishes of a portion of British citizens willing to prolong the child's life. Is that same portion willing to extend support for however the child lives? This is a case of medical and legal experts really having superior knowledge and now given the power to decide fates that technical expertise rules over emotional appeal.
Whatever their citizens think of Charlie Gard's case, it must be acknowledged that this is British and European courts broadcasting that citizens are property of State and not the other way around. Further, these citizens will always prefer having State manage their healthcare and basically as a matter of convenience.
11 comments:
I think should Trump should offer the child and his family political asylum as refugees.
Thing is, the media doesn't black out stuff the way they used to.
The word viral has entered our vocabulary because of the Internet. If the Internet hadn't been around, Willie would have his third term.
Except for a few old people, the media monopoly no longer exists.
Leland said...
I think should Trump should offer the child and his family political asylum as refugees.
I don't think they'd really qualify as political refugees, but Trump could make a special case for them by EO.
IdiotBoy did it lots of times.
They are not citizens they are subjects.
Celebrate tomorrow as the anniversary of our ancestors tossing off the yoke of being ruled.
My ancestors didn't get here until much later. And that's no yoke.
Great post Chip.
You won't read about this in the MSM because they can't spin it to make Trump look icky.
Trump and Republican lawmakers should all kick in and pay for this kids healthcare, showing their compassion and the heartlessness of socialized medicine.
When my femur was broken and repaired I was sent to a nursing home to learn how to cope. While there I saw a few very sad similar cases.
One young man was permanently disabled to 100%, unable to do anything at all. His family visited every day, wheeled him out, sat with him, toured the grounds, watched t.v. but the young man never did a single thing. No talking, no moving his head, no blinking of acknowledgement. Nothing. I learned his story about an industrial accident. The company he worked for is paying for all this. Probably still is as the man ages.
Another case was an elderly man who visited his wife every single day at her bedside.
I asked the physical therapists there, why? Surely the helpless don't want that. And that was not my own immediate and temporary depression asking. It is a sensible question. The therapist did not want to answer. (A very capable dyke, I probably should add, she helped immeasurably and I'll never forget her. Although no matter how gorgeous,I wish I could forget the whole place.) She leaned in close to my ear and whispered, "money."
Apparently their family receives money so long as the victim is alive.
The married man whose wife became vegetative had everyones deep pity. But here we all saw two lives ruined completely. There is no chance for the healthy husband to recover so long as his vegetative wife survives.
And the young man's whole family is wrapped up in their son with no chance at all for recovery.
Under present circumstances, there is no chance. Barring some miracle or some fantastic medial breakthrough. That is the thread that they all hang their hopes on.
While the doctors and new doctors doing their hospital residence, and physical therapists are all more practical.
For a four year period of my lowest health situation my body could not produce sufficient red blood cells. My blood draws were actually pink! Blood transfusions were given me every three weeks. They became so regular that eventually they were given at home. It's an all-day thing. The last one failed. The technician tried three times to find a vein and failed. I told her, "One more try then I must stop."
She goes, "Okay."
The fourth attempt failed and she departed. I ended up in hospital again. I said to the (extremely gorgeous) young resident doctor, "I don't think I can keep doing this. This can't be my life."
She stopped short. Looked directly into my eyeballs and said, "I know."
And I laid there thinking to myself, BITCH! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO TALK ME DOWN, NOT SYMPATHIZE WITH MY SUICIDAL EMOTIONAL THOUGHTS. GODDAMINT! GODDAMIT! GODDAMIT!" She pissed me right off. Right there. Her coldness amazed me. She honestly couldn't see me continuing that way either. That incident snapped me around. My anger formed a brand new fight attitude. And I honestly don't think that was her intention.
Conclusion: Medical professionals are pragmatists.
We live in a cynical age. Perhaps it was true that the family visiting their 100% disabled son or the elderly husband visiting his vegetative or near vegetative wife did it for the money. Or perhaps not. Perhaps they did it out of loyalty. Perhaps they did it for company. That's right, company, of which there is nothing more precious. But even if we accept the nurse's whispered confidence that they did it for money, in the belief that their visits might extend the life of their son or wife (and therefore the payments to them) that means that at some level they understood the life extending power of presence. PRESENCE. Simply being there, at his side, at her side. Loyalty is probably not the best word. Obligation. Duty. They felt they had a duty to be at his side, at her side. They did their duty.
Chip there is love.
Never discount the power of love.
We can be cynical. We can put motives on people.
But we can't discount love.
Ricpic, the elderly man was not there for money, that was the therapist's answer to me why the young man's family continue to carry on with absolutely no hope whatsoever.
The gray haired man who sat and read to his wife all day long really was there for personal love. But that's all that he could do. That's it. Day in and day out. She continues to live on his insistence. It's not possible for him to have any other life. At this point when she dies so will he. His reason to live will be gone and there can be no recovery for him, no life for him, after that.
I never discounted love.
Through my own ordeal I've been deeply impressed with love extended to me by strangers in a million ways. I am alive because of it. And I'm not discounting the love of the pragmatists either. Not at all. I've lived too much of it to discount it. It's not just a job to these people, we were not just medical cases to them. Their entire being is an expression of love and that very real human love is extended to strangers. It's impressive as their cleverness, impressive as their intelligence, their focus and their determination. As individuals they blow me away. I'm genuinely humbled.
I have a million anecdotes to support my impressions. I can easily bend your ear all week with them. But I learned to try not to look back and not dwell on all that has passed and all that is dreadful. I cannot live there. I cannot thrive there. It's not possible to sort the best of it from the worst of it. Better health-wise to focus on today and leave the past where it belongs.
But sometimes I do find it helpful to look back. An elderly gentleman I know who lives mostly in two places, S. California and Arizona, just today told my stories to him got him through his own ordeal. Chemotherapy and radiation. All I did was tell him what happened. And somehow in that he found inspiration. Just today he told my story about the emotion that ran through me so hard I was left speechless, actually dumbfounded, hiking the first time a short distance, following all that awful stuff. I told him had I spoken a single word then God Himself would pour out of me is a flood of tears. He wrote back immediately and told me my story is beautiful and he became thrilled reading it. He said that he's eager to get up and get out and hit the trails. Since he knows me, to him I am inspiration long distance.
I also suggested watching BatKid. He didn't want to because he has no interest at all in Batman. I told him it's not about Batman, it's about Make-A-Wish and about the people of San Francisco. It shows them in their best possible light, and for a moment. He invited over a married couple and they watched it. He wrote me after they left and told me a great big thank you for suggesting it. They had no idea such a thing existed. Seeing it meant a quite a lot to all three, although I don't know exactly how. The three sat around for hours discussing the movie They had a fantastic time together picking out its elements and the feelings the film provoked, the connections they made. They all know people in similar situations who are not children and not wish recipients, it still moved all of them considerably.
I want to tell you at least a hundred more stories but I'm afraid I'll bore you to death. And to do it I must look back and dredge up the awful details that make the stories so rich.
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