My alarm went off with a pronounced fury this morning! I set it at about 12:30, was in bed by 1am and next thing I knew, the alarm was blarring at 3:07am. I had to catch a bus to Albany that was scheduled to leave at 4am. In the forty-three minutes between killing the alarm and boarding the bus, I managed to shower; pack a pillow and books, and pen; pick up a classmate; go to school and get my white coat from my locker; and drive the however many minutes it took to get to Pittsford where the bus was waiting.
I went to Albany today to participate in a rally on the capital steps. I've been intrigued by, and at times, in support of any sort of organized protest since my Rage Against the Machine days, so when I found out about the opportunity to do some fighting for health care reform, I didn't need any persuasion. Part of the reason I wanted to be a doctor was to earn a seat at the reform table. Today's experience was...I'm still not sure if it encouraged or discouraged me about getting involved in politics.
The day started out with a number of speeches inside this giant egg. Yes, we gathered inside of a giant egg--Albany is a weird place. This picture I snagged off the Internet falls short but is the best I could find to portray a little of the fantasy land these politicians call home. Yes, the speeches were great. It kind of felt like I was listening to a State of the Union Address with all the standing and clapping we were doing. In all honestly, I was impressed with the governor's address, I wanted to vote for him in the upcoming election.
Politicians have this thing about them, this presence that is so engaging. Three words out of their mouth and you are smiling, three complete phrases and you feel as if the two of you are best friends. It happened today over and over again; it happened at my work when the governor (Maryland) came and spoke to us briefly, it happened at the inaugural ball '04 when President Bush shared a few words. Seriously, it made perfect sense to vote for him at that moment. Today, my experience moved past passive listener in the audience to the "I'm in your office, let's talk," phase.
After the morning of speeches, we marched out to the capital steps, had our little rally outside, and then we went to meet with the senators over our district. I was accompanied by a few other medical students and physicians who were in practice here in Rochester. In the first senator's office we visited, the physicians laid out their agenda first and the Senator listened to their agenda and then responding to their ideas like they were clay verbally squishing them into a ball to toss in the trash. He managed to do this in a way that did not even offend anyone. I think the doctors were all smiling and nodding. I seemed to be the only one that heard the clay thump into the waste basket. I grabbed the moment of silence to let the Senator know why students come to Rochester to train but do not plan to stay and care for the community when they graduate because of the hostile litigious environment and the poor reimbursement rates by what is essentially a local insurance monopoly. He changed the subject a few times, the ball went back to the physicians, we all agreed that collective bargaining is the right thing to do, and then we were conveniently out of time. We all stood up, the Senator grabbed my arm and looked at everyone else like we were posing for a picture and said, "now promise me you are going to stay and practice in the area." His smile and his grip were almost too much but before I robotically returned the smile and said yes, a stroke of reality awakened me from the politician's trance and I said, "As soon as we see collective bargaining with setting reimbursement rates in Rochester." We all chuckled politely and my team made our exit.
This kind of scenario repeated itself three more times throughout the afternoon. My favorite moment of the afternoon was when I told the staffer who was sitting in place of another busy senator we were to meet with, that "By the time I start working full-time, my loans will be around half a million dollars and there is absolutely no way I will stay to practice in Rochester if tort reform and reimbursement rates are in the same mess they are in now. Either it gets fixed, or I and my colleagues take our skills elsewhere." I thought that sounded pretty good, and unfortunately, 100% true. The physicians in the room backed me up with nods and grunt-like affirmation. What did the staffer do? She nodded her head in rhythm with all the other head nods she gave to everyone's comments. Her pen remained capped in hand, her notebook remained closed. That is when it struck me. I shouldn't be rallying for health care reform. Yes, the system may be broken, but why should we devote any effort to that when our very own staffers don't know how to write?
Educators, you win. Pay those teachers first! And maybe then we'll see what is left over for health care.
