When The Revolution Comes

Some years ago, Cupcake Emeritus' wife contracted cancer. The two surgeries she went through were successful; the ensuing chemotherapy treatment eradicated the remainder of the cancerous tissue. She didn't die from the disease, unlike my father, who was not necessarily killed by his cancer but more likely the barbarous treatment employed in the mid 70's.

As is customary for Cupcake CEO's and other wealthy folks, her medical expenses were 100% reimbursed by the generous Cupcake health plan, but this isn't a post to kvetch about our absolutely criminal health care system which allots most of the funds to people most able to pay for their own medical care while people of more slender means often go bankrupt paying for catastrophic illness.

The Cupcake Wife was prescribed a relatively new drug to further combat the reoccurence of the disease, which she took for a short period of time. This particular drug was ruinously expensive, to the tune of $2,000 a month.

As part of my job is to submit health claims and deal with the insurance company, the Cupcake presented me with the bill for this particular medication. In hushed tones of actual incredulity, that I know he couldn't fake, he said to me, "Look at the cost for this one prescription! What happens to people who can't afford this drug?"

While my head exploded at what is probably the most naieve statement I'd heard uttered by a reasonably intelligent person, I looked him right in the eye and choked out a terse response: "They die."

As fond as I am of the Cupcake and his entertaining follies, I've never forgotten this episode. This is all the evidence anyone would ever need to prove beyond all doubt, reasonable or otherwise, that for the wealthy the universe begins and ends at the end of their noses. They don't live in the same world as the rest of us, and if we ignore that, it is at our peril.