Hospital in Fallujah after we occupied their country

by Richard Oxman

In Japan, they say that –for expats– if you’ve never been first on line for the subway doors to open… and last to get a seat, you simply haven’t been there long enough. They also add, that if you’ve had the experience of being last on line and first to get a seat… you’ve stayed too long.

So many Japanese songs play like that.

When I lived in Nippon, at first I couldn’t figure out why medical professionals were always writing prescriptions for drugs. Any visit to a doctor guaranteed coming away with a one-way ticket to their version of The Pharmacy.

After a short while, I discovered that their system of government compensation rewarded the act of writing prescriptions. Go in for something simple, and you could walk out –easily– with a prescription for death, something that’d kill you (if taken often enough) down the line. Or make you miserable, hurt your system at the very least.

Same ‘ole song here.

Significant improvements have been made in some hospitals since the Institute of Medicine released a landmark report in 2000 which revealed many thousands of Americans die each year because of medical mistakes. But 98, 000 still buy the farm once admitted. Unnecessarily.

Blame can be placed on the complexity of health care systems, a lack of leadership, and the reluctance of doctors to admit errors. However, an insurance reimbursement system that rewards errors is the main culprit. Hospitals can bill for additional services needed when patients are injured by mistakes, but often insurers will not pay for practices that reduce those errors.

This kind of thing puts a whole different swing on the proposal I put forth in my recent “DV,D: *Making Nice* to My American Migraine” article:

“WE WILL CONSIDER VOTING AGAIN WHEN THE POWERS PROVIDE BASIC HEALTH INSURANCE FOR EVERY RESIDENT IN THE U.S.A. "ALONG THE LINES OF WHAT THE IRAQIS HAD BEFORE WE OCCUPIED THEIR COUNTRY" FREE OF CHARGE.”

Doesn’t it?

This is all reminding me of that old American ditty, a song that was popular when I was young. The particular line I’m thinking of goes… “I hear music and there’s no one there….”

Except this version has zero to do with *love*, the focus of that song.

This has to do with selling someone a farm on the Brooklyn Bridge. I’m not in the market, of course. But too many people are buyin’.

Someone else should get killed. Or, at least, something else.

Or it means… you’ve been here too long.