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UT, USA
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Posted: 5/10/2009 10:20:33 PM EDT
[Last Edit: Donith]
My wife has started writing again. She stopped writing fiction after our first child and had only written a few articles.
She's been toying with this idea for a few months. Let us know what you think. She doesn't know I'm posting her first chapter. She may kill me later, but I want her to gert some feedback from people that aren't her family and aren't required to give unconditional support. The premise is the underground world of healthcare in this country shortly after universal healthcare has been instituted. Keep in mind, this is her first draft. CHAPTER 1 Yvonne stared ahead in disbelief. She must have heard wrong. This could not be happening. She looked at Mr. Benson, “What do you mean?” she asked. “I am sorry,” Mr. Benson replied. “It would just not be cost effective.” Yvonne’s mind struggled to understand what she was hearing. He must mean something other than what he was saying. She looked hard at the little man in a tweed suit. She was searching for some kind of a clue. Something that might indicate that he was not in earnest, or that he had something further to say. Anything that would show that he had another answer for her questions. Mr. Benson was a small man, very thin and pale. He looked as though he spent too much time indoors. He had a receding hairline, which he tried to compensate for with a somewhat bushy moustache. His eyes were fixed on his computer screen. He scanned over the information that appeared there. He did not look up. “I don’t understand,” Yvonne said. “It is quite simple. Your sons’ condition has proven to be recurring. We have only limited resources.” Yvonne waited for something more. Mr. Benson studiously watched his computer screen. “What, exactly, are you saying?” she asked. She was beginning to feel a little desperate. Mr. Benson leaned forward. “Considerable time and expense has already been spent on your son. We, at the National Center for the Coordination of Health Information Technology, feel that our resources would be better employed, in serving those who will show long term benefits from the medical attention that we bestow.” “I don’t understand.” Yvonne’s mind refused to accept what Mr. Benson was saying. “We have been on a waiting list for six months. I was told that we should be off in about four months. Are you saying that we have to wait longer? How much longer will it be? We may not have much time left.” “You don’t seem to understand,” Mr. Benson responded slowly. “You are off of the waiting list. Your sons condition makes the expense too risky. There is simply no guarantee that another operation would even help him. Mrs. Johnson, there are many other sick people in this country. Our resources must be spread around. It is our job to see that money is spent where it will do the most good. Each citizen of this country has a responsibility to do their part to help the nation as a whole. It seems that your part may well be to sacrifice a little, so that the little remaining resources can go to help someone who fully benefit.” “Are you saying that my son will no longer receive any medical treatment?” Mr. Benson looked annoyed. “As I said before, our small resources must be saved for where they will do the most good,” he paused. “For all of society. Now if you will excuse me, I do have work to do.” Mr. Benson once again fixed his attention on the computer screen. “But, wait,” Yvonne protested. “ You can’t do this. We have paid our taxes and our healthcare fund deductions. You cannot just tell me that my son will no longer receive medical attention and then turn around and dismiss me. What are we to do?” “I’m sure I do not know. It is no concern of mine. Now will you please leave? Or I will have to call someone to escort you from the premises.” “But there must be something that we can do? Can we pay a higher deduction? Anything? There must be something?” Mr. Benson picked up his phone and said something into the receiver. Yvonne was feeling frantic. How could this man sit there so calmly as he sentenced her little boy to death? He was once again staring into his computer screen with an unconcerned air. How could he sit there as though there were not a care in the world? Two men came through a doorway at the end of the hall and walked toward her. It took her a few minutes to realize what they were doing. One stood on each side of her and they grabbed her arms. They began to move her towards the front entrance. “Wait,” she said. “Wait, please, there must be something I can do!” Mr. Benson began to type as he stared ahead at his computer screen. The two men deposited Yvonne outside the front door and then returned inside. Yvonne put her hand up to her forehead. She was feeling dizzy. Her mind seemed numb. She couldn’t think straight. Her thoughts were all jumbled up. Her whole body felt numb. What had just happened? She tried to compose her thoughts. She began to slowly walk. She didn’t pay attention to what direction she was going. She just walked. She couldn’t really concentrate on anything. She just kept seeing Archer’s sweet little face. His silly smile that he gave when he was up to mischief. She could hear his happy little laugh as he played out in the yard. She could hear his sweet voice as he talked with his little sister or offered to share with her some little treat that he had. He was always so sweet. And even though the last year had been so hard on his little body, he never complained. Archer was five years old. When he was born, he had seemed like such a perfect healthy baby. When he was only two months old, the doctor had noticed something strange in his heartbeat. He had immediately been sent to Primary Children’s Hospital to undergo testing. It had been discovered that he had an extra tissue growth in the left ventricle of his heart. The doctor explained that at that time, it was small enough that it would not cause any serious problems. If it continued to grow, however, Archer would need to undergo open heart surgery to have it removed. As Archer grew, so did the extra tissue. Not that you would have known by looking at him. He would run and play just like other children. When he was three years old the doctor had said that it was time to operate. Yvonne could still remember the months of waiting, the mountains of paperwork, the many visits to the office of Mr. Benson. It had taken four months to get the operation approved, but finally it was done. Yvonne and her husband, Don, had sat anxiously in the waiting room through the entire four hour operation. They had prayed almost the whole four hours. Finally, the doctor had come out to talk to them. He had a smile on his face as he shook their hands. “It was successful,” he told them. He had explained to them earlier, that in twenty-five percent of such cases, the tissue growth would grow back, requiring another operation. He had had one patient who had to have the operation four times. They knew this was a possibility, but, for now, their little boy was better and they were happy. It was only a month later, before Archer had fully recovered from the surgery, that the doctor told them. The extra tissue had grown back. It seemed to be growing faster this time and it would not be too long before Archer needed another operation. Six months later, the doctor had recommended that they do the operation. That had been a year ago. They had once again spent months waiting and filling out mountains of paperwork. It seemed that at least twice a week Mr. Benson would call her to ask her to come down to his office and fill out more papers. Then, she was told that the hospital had too many surgeries scheduled. Her son would be placed on a waiting list. When hospital space became available, they would be notified. Six months passed by slowly. Archer seemed healthy most of the time. He would play at the park with his brothers and sisters, practice riding his new bike and even went swimming at the pool. But he got tired so easily. After such a short time playing, he would be so worn out. Yvonne would take him home and sit in her big rocking chair, and hold him, and rock him. She would see how his face was just a little too pale, under his eyes a little too dark. She made sure that he rested a lot. He saw the doctor often, during that time. “What a little trooper you are,” Dr. Mark would say. But he looked worried. It had been just yesterday that Dr. Mark had said, “Your boy is very sick. If he doesn’t get this operation soon . . .” His voice had trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished. He looked at Yvonne. “Your son’s heart is a ticking time bomb,” he said. “If this tissue growth is allowed to get much bigger, it could rupture his heart.” Yvonne had decided then and there that she must go to see Mr. Benson and try to get the operation for Archer approved more quickly. They must have a fast track for real emergencies, she had thought. As soon as she had gotten home she had called Mr. Benson’s office to make an appointment to see him as soon as possible. She was surprised when she was told that Mr. Benson was too busy to see her for the next three weeks. She made an appointment for the first available time. As she started to cook dinner that night, she noticed how quietly little Archer was sitting on the corner of the couch. He looked so pale. She walked over and sat down beside him. “How are ya feelin?” she asked. He tried to smile, but couldn’t quite manage it. “I’m tired,” he said. Yvonne felt his forehead. She asked him if he wanted a drink. He shook his head. “Can I watch Little Foot, Mommy?” “Of course you can.” Yvonne put the disc The Land Before Time into DVD player. Her two year daughter hopped up beside her big brother. The Land Before Time was an old movie, but it was still one of the kids favorites. Yvonne kept an eye on her two young children as she finished cooking dinner. Archer fell asleep after just a few minutes. She could tell that his small body was exhausted. As she watched him, lying there asleep, she knew that she could not wait three weeks. Archer may not have three weeks left. The next morning, after her older children had gone off to school, she called her sister. Not too much later, she was riding on the city bus, on her way to Mr. Benson’s office. She had waited for almost two hours, before he agreed to see her. She apologized for coming without an appointment, and then began to explain her situation. She asked him if it might be possible to fast track the approval for her son’s operation. It had not even occurred to her that it might not be approved. Mr. Benson stared at his computer screen. Every now and then he would click with his mouse. He didn’t so much as glance at Yvonne. After she had finished talking, he sat silently for awhile. It seemed like a year to the desperate mother. Finally, he cleared his throat and said, “I have been reviewing your son’s case. I am afraid that the operation is not approved. You will be receiving confirmation in the mail.” He again became silent and watched his computer screen. Yvonne waited for something more. She could not believe what she had just heard. There must be a mistake, she thought. But what she said was, “What do you mean?” CHAPTER 2 Yvonne tried to compose her thoughts. Pictures and words seemed to be jumbled up in her mind. Nothing made sense. She could see her little boy sleeping on the couch, his little sister beside him, watching a movie. Then she saw Dr. Mark and the concern in his eyes. She saw her three older children, smiling and playing with their little brother and sister. She saw her husband, looking tired after a long day at work. He worked hard to try to provide for their large family. Then she saw Mr. Benson, the coldness on his face as he informed her that medical care had been denied to her son. She could see him staring at his computer, seemingly without any feeling at all. He seemed almost robotic to her as she went over the interview that she had just left. She must try to think of something to do. There must be something that she could do. She looked around and realized that she had walked past the bus stop. She turned around and began to walk more quickly. Her thoughts were still so mixed up. She couldn’t seem to think straight. Maybe this was all a horrible dream. It was a comforting thought. It seemed impossible that it could have been real. I’m going to wake up any minute, she thought. She had arrived at the bus stop. She waited only a short while before the bus drove up. She climbed up the steps and found a seat. It seemed only a few minutes later, that she was getting off of the bus and walking toward her home. She had been so lost in her thoughts, that she hadn’t noticed the time going by. She still felt numb. She wondered if she would wake up soon or if this nightmare would go on. She knew that she must do something, but nothing came to mind. She walked up her front steps and grabbed the doorknob. “So, what happened?” She heard her sister’s anxious voice. She couldn’t answer the question. What exactly had happened? Her thoughts began to unscramble and she could hear Mr. Benson’s voice, cold an unfeeling, “I’m afraid that the operation is not approved.” She looked at her sister and burst into tears. Concern showed in Sabrina’s eyes as she put her arms around her sister. “They wouldn’t speed up the approval?” she asked. Yvonne’s heart sank and she wished that that was the problem. “They have decided that he can’t have the operation at all,” she cried miserably. “What are we going to do?” Sabrina was shocked. She thought that her sister must have misunderstood. “Tell me,” was all she could think to say. Yvonne tried to compose herself long enough to tell Sabrina all about the interview. She could remember every detail. She felt as if that morning would be etched into her memory forever. As Yvonne finished talking, Sabrina began to pace the kitchen floor. “How can they do this?” She sat down at the table to think. Yvonne began to cry again. “Listen,” Sabrina said. “There must be some kind of appeals process. I am going to call and find out.” She grabbed the cordless phone and the phone book and began to thumb through the pages. Yvonne wiped the tears off of her face and stood up. A glimmer of hope formed in her mind. Maybe there was something she could do. Sabrina was right, there must be an appeals process. She heard a weak little voice call out, “Mommy, are you home?” She walked out into the living room. Little Archer was sitting on the couch, leaning his head against the arm. He smiled when he saw her. Millie was playing with a pile of blocks on the floor. “Yes, I’m back,” she said as she sat beside her son. She leaned over and gave him a hug. Millie ran up, “Mommy!” she shouted. Yvonne picked up her up and held her on her lap. “Hi, Baby. What have you been doing?” “We were making a giant tower,” Archer answered. “But Millie knocked it over.” “I see.” Yvonne smiled. “It sounds like lots of fun.” Millie jumped down and began to stack the blocks up once again. “Come on, Awchew.” She could not say her R’s very well. “I’m too tired,” he answered. “You make one for me.” “OK,” Millie smiled, and continued to stack blocks. When she had them about ten high, they tumbled over onto the floor. Yvonne smiled as she began to stack them up again. She moved onto the floor and began to help stack the blocks. Soon they had quite a large tower. Millie pushed it over. The blocks tumbled onto the floor. Millie clapped and jumped up and down, laughing. Archer smiled from his corner on the couch. Sabrina was on the phone. Yvonne could hear a phrase or a sentence now and then. “the operation was denied;” “Is the a way to appeal a decision by the center?” “I want to know how to appeal.” Her conversation went on for several minutes. It sounded as though she were being transferred around a lot. Yvonne could hear her explain the situation again and again. She listened carefully, every muscle in her body tense. Finally, it sounded as though she were getting somewhere. “Thank you. Can you give me the address and a phone number? Thank you very much.” Sabrina came into the living room with a triumphant look on her face. “There is a board that you can petition to overturn these decisions. It is in the same building. Here is the phone number. You just have to call and set it up. I am sure when they understand the situation, Archer will be helped out.” Tears filled Yvonne’s eyes as relief seemed to wash over her body and her tense muscles relaxed. There was something to be done. Hope was not lost. She reached out and took the paper with the phone number on it. She went immediately to the phone and dialed. “Hello. National Center for the Coordination of Health Information Technology. How may I direct your call?” Yvonne looked at the paper in her hand. “I need extension 206,” she replied. “One moment,” said the voice in the phone. It seemed like hours before someone answered the phone, and the constant, repeating music was beginning to get on her nerves. “May I help you?” a woman’s voice interrupted the annoying tones. Yvonne explained her situation as quickly as she could and asked for information on the appeals process. The lady on the other end of the phone listened carefully and then asked a few questions. She made an appointment for Yvonne to come and talk with a Mr. McCloud. She told her what papers she would need to bring with her and then said goodbye. Yvonne was very excited. Now she would be able to present the facts, and surely she would get some help for her son. It was only three days later that Yvonne, armed with a file full of pictures and documents, again entered the office building of the National Center for the Coordination of Health Information Technology. This time she was feeling confident and hopeful. She looked toward the door of Mr. Benson’s office and felt glad that she was going to talk to someone else. She headed toward the elevator, got in, and pushed the button for the third floor. When the elevator opened it revealed a quiet room with several chairs, a couch, and a large desk. There was a woman behind the desk. She was reading a book. She looked up when Yvonne stepped into the room. She raised her eyebrows. “I am Yvonne Johnson. I have an appointment to see Mr. McCloud.” “I see.” The woman sounded skeptical. “Will you please take a seat.” Yvonne waited for over an hour, even though there was not another person in the waiting room. She began to loose a little of her confidence. She held her file tightly and waited. After a very long time, the woman came out from behind the desk. “Will you please follow me.” Yvonne followed her into a very cheerful looking office. Mr. McCloud smiled as she came in. He stood up and shook her hand. He was a big man, tall and heavy built. He had a full head of thick brown hair and bright blue eyes. There was a picture of his family on his desk; a wife two young children and himself. Yvonne felt instantly at ease. “Now then,” he said. “What seems to be the problem?” An hour later, Yvonne was heading back down the elevator with a smile on her face. She walked confidently out the door of the office building, with a quick glance back at Mr. Benson’s door. What a big difference there was between him and Mr. McCloud, she thought. One so cold and unfeeling, one so friendly and helpful. As she stepped out into the street, she took out her cell phone and made a call. “Hi, honey,” she began. “It went really well. Mr. McCloud thinks we have a good chance of an appeal.” She listened to the relief in her husband’s voice with satisfaction. “We will appear before the appeals board in one week.” They talked happily for a few minutes. Both of them feeling a wave a hope return to lives. Then Yvonne hung up, and climbed up the steps and onto the bus. She was feeling better than she had in a while. She watched for her stop, as she headed home. CHAPTER 3 Yvonne sat in a waiting room once again. This time she was accompanied by her husband and Dr. Mark, Archer’s cardiologist. They had each prepared something to say to the appeals board. Yvonne leaned over and thanked Dr. Mark once again, for coming. She knew that he had a busy schedule. She smiled nervously at her husband. He reached over and squeezed her hand and gave her a reassuring smile. “ Mr. Johnson.” A man appeared in the room. “Will you please come with me.” Don stood up and followed him out of the room. They walked down a hallway and into a large room. There was a long semicircular table on a raised platform at one end of the room. A row of hard metal folding chairs formed a row, facing the table. There were seven people seated at the table. Each of them had a laptop and a small stack of papers in front of them. There were four men and three women. They all looked up and watched Don as he came to the front of the room. “We have been reviewing your case,” a woman said. “she had a very deep voice. Her hair was cut short and close to her head. She was wearing a white shirt that could have been a man’s. She wore no makeup. She had an almost masculine look. “I see here that you are a member of the NRA?” Don was surprised at the question. It didn’t seem to have any bearing on his sons medical case. The lady waited for an answer. “Yes,” he answered shortly. “I see.” A man, who seemed a little more friendly, then asked him if would like to make a statement to explain the basis for the appeal. Don began to explain the medical needs of his small son. His eyes filled with tears as he asked that his son get the medical attention that he so desperately needed. . Each member of the board asked him a few questions. He then gave them copies of his check stubs. “As you can see, we have been paying the medical deduction for over a year,” Don said. He hoped the evidence of payment into the government’s healthcare plan would help their case. “And your wife doesn’t work at all?” the burly woman asked. “No, she doesn’t. We have five children,” Don offered an explanation. “There are many women who have children and work. These families are paying a higher deductible than you are. They have a deductible payment from each income.” she paused and looked down at the papers Don had given. When she looked up, she added, “Few of them have five children.” Don could tell that things were not going well. He was asked a few more questions, then was dismissed. He followed the same man back to the waiting room. Yvonne was then asked to follow him. She walked down the hall and into the room with the big table. She looked at each of the seven people seated at the table. One of them asked her to present her case. They all listened attentively, then asked her a few questions. She was then dismissed. Next, Dr. Mark was ushered in. They asked him questions about Archer’s condition. “Isn’t it true,” one man asked, “that even if this operation is performed, the condition may return?” “Well, that is a possibility. However, only in a small fraction of cases have more than two operations ever been needed to correct the problem.” “But it has been known to happen?” “Yes, but very rarely.” “And, if the operation is successful,” another man chimed in. “What would be the quality of life the patient could expect?” Dr. Mark smiled, “He would have a perfectly normal life, in most cases. He would be able to do anything most young boys his age do. He could run and play sports. He would be just like any other kid.” “There are cases, however, that don’t turn out so well, aren’t there?” the first man asked. “Well, in a very small number of children, the heart does not quite regain its strength. Even so, those children have a pretty normal life. They often tire easily and may not be able to participate in sports. I advise them to find some other interests. They still can have a very happy and fulfilling life.” “Isn’t it true that children who have had this unusual heart defect, are at a higher risk of heart attack later in life?” The questions seemed almost hostile to Dr. Mark. “Not in all cases,” returned the doctor. “But in some?” The questioner persisted. He looked at each person at the table before answering. “Yes, in some cases.” “That will be all, doctor. Thank you for helping us better understand the nature of this problem.” Dr. Mark understood this was a dismissal. He stood up and turned to leave. He hesitated. It had not gone at all the way he had planned. The questions had appeared to be slanted against his patient. He thought of the sick little boy who had been his patient almost since his birth. He thought of the hopeful parents sitting out in the waiting room. They had been counting on him to help them. He looked back at the seven members of the appeals board. “I just want to add one thing,” he said. The burly woman looked annoyed. Some others looked surprised. “I can’t begin to express the urgency that I feel in this case. This little boy is sick. The only thing standing between him and a healthy, happy future, is the decision of this board. I hope that you understand. This boy’s life is in your hands.” He turned and left the room. When he arrived back in the waiting room, Don and Yvonne looked up with questions in their eyes. He shook his head a little. “I don’t know,” he said. Don looked down at the floor. He knew that it had not gone the way that they had planned it. He thought about telling his wife the fears that were in his head. He looked at her. She was very nervous, he could tell. She was holding her hands together tightly kept glancing around. She would stand up and pace around the room a little and then sit back down. Should he tell her about the questions that he had been asked? He decided not to tell her the details, but to try to give her a little warning that they may not get the answer they hoped for. “It did not seem to go very well for me,” he said. “In what way?” his wife asked. “They asked me a lot of strange questions,” he replied. “Questions that didn’t seem to have anything to do with Archer.” “What kind of questions?” “I don’t know. It just seemed as if they had already made up their minds before we even went in there. I hope I’m wrong.” The doctor agreed. “It didn’t go well for me either. I wish that I had been more helpful.” The waiting seemed to go on forever. It was almost unbearable. They spoke in hushed tones and only intermittently. For the most part, they sat in a tense silence, as they awaited the decision that could give new life to their sick child. After a very long while, the man came in and announced that the board had finished deliberating. If they would follow him, he would take them to hear their decision. When they entered the room, the seven board members, had gone. Mr. McCloud sat at the table in their stead. He motioned for them to join him. Yvonne and Don sat at the table. Dr. Mark remained standing. “I am afraid that your appeal has been denied,” began Mr. McCloud. “After an extensive cost benefit analysis, one that actually began last week, I might add. We find that the operation is too costly and the benefits are simply not guaranteed.” A man then ushered Dr. Mark out of the room. “I am so sorry,” he said as he turned to leave, and they knew that he meant it. “In a situation such as yours, it is our policy to help you to make the best of your circumstances. I feel that it can help to ease the sorrow of loved ones, when they know that their sacrifice is not in vain. Your sons life could help to bless the lives of many others. Your family’s sorrow can be the means of new life for someone else.” Yvonne couldn’t understand what he was talking about. He sounded like a general trying to comfort the family of a fallen soldier. Was he still talking about her four year old son? What did he mean? Don was feeling very frustrated. What was this guy insinuating? It didn’t sound good. What did he want from them? Mr. McCloud pushed a small stack of papers over to them. “Now, if you will sign these papers, everything will be put in order and you can go home to your son, knowing that he, and you, will be changing the lives of many others.” Yvonne and Don began to look through the papers. Suddenly it dawned on them what this man was talking about. Yvonne looked up in horror. “You want us to sign papers authorizing organ donations?” Don felt the anger building up in him. “How dare you?” he yelled. “I understand that it may be somewhat of a shock to you. You don’t have to sign them now. Take them home with you and think it over. Do you want your son’s death to have meaning and purpose? Think of how many lives you could bless. I believe it should make it easier to know that your sacrifice will help so many.” “Our son is not going to die!” Don’s voice was shaky. “And we are not here to plan how to parcel him out in the event of his death. We came here for help. I see that was a mistake.” He took his wife’s hand. “Come on,” he said. Yvonne stood up and they began to walk toward the door. Mr. McCloud followed them holding out the papers. “Take these home with you,” he said. “You may change your minds when you have had a chance to think about it.” Don grabbed the papers and threw them in his face. “We will not change our minds.” His voice was hard and angry. He opened the door and led his wife down the hall and out of the building. They were both in shock. Don had been prepared for the denial, but this was too much. How dare they tell him that they refused to save the life of son, but that they would like to have his body once he was dead. That Mr. McCloud. Trying to sound as though it were something noble to allow a child to die and then harvest his organs. Is this what healthcare in America had come to? This was the change they had been promised by the President? Well, if this was it, he didn’t want it. |
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AL, USA
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Posted: 5/10/2009 11:16:29 PM EDT
[#1]
good read I like it. Your wife has talent.
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Posted: 5/10/2009 11:22:42 PM EDT
[#2]
Yeah talent. And a depressing scenario. Don't let her stop. And I hope that Mr. Benson SOB gets his.
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TX, USA
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Posted: 5/11/2009 1:26:41 PM EDT
[#3]
Good start!!!
I'm getting a conspiracy vibe out of this story for some strange reason. My Spidey senses are telling me Dr. Benson may be conducting some sort of experiment with little Archer, or is using him for tissue samples for possible cloning experiments? I am probably way off but this is what I'm getting out of the story so far. AKASL LIVE FREE OR DIE |
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OK, USA
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Posted: 5/11/2009 7:22:05 PM EDT
[#4]
I'm liking this story...I would please like more...
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UT, USA
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Posted: 5/11/2009 9:15:56 PM EDT
[#5]
Thanks for the replies, and she appreciates the encouragement.
She is a little annoyed that I posted it, but its more of a confidence thing. I think she is actually relieved other people like it. She's changed the order of her chapters. The one about the president will be later. Chapter 2 has been outlined, and should be done in a few days. |
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TN, USA
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Posted: 5/11/2009 10:27:05 PM EDT
[#6]
Originally Posted By Donith:
Thanks for the replies, and she appreciates the encouragement. She is a little annoyed that I posted it, but its more of a confidence thing. I think she is actually relieved other people like it. She's changed the order of her chapters. The one about the president will be later. Chapter 2 has been outlined, and should be done in a few days. Hey, Donith's wife... from a fellow author (although your talents are better than mine by a long shot) - YOU ARE DOING GREAT! Now - more, dammit! 
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Posted: 5/12/2009 2:15:04 AM EDT
[#7]
We approve and demand more. We will need to revue the entirety of her work. We will also need payment in the form of ammo for future critiques. And a shrubbery.
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Posted: 5/13/2009 12:16:41 PM EDT
[#8]
So far so good! Love to see more......
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Posted: 5/13/2009 1:28:51 PM EDT
[#9]
...
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Posted: 5/13/2009 10:00:10 PM EDT
[#10]
Keep the story coming
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Posted: 5/24/2009 6:26:02 PM EDT
[#11]
Drew me in from the first...................
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UT, USA
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Posted: 5/26/2009 7:40:47 PM EDT
[#12]
She's written two more chapters but hasn't let me have them yet.
I'll see if I can get them tonight. |
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Posted: 6/5/2009 8:54:54 AM EDT
[#13]
Well?
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Posted: 6/7/2009 3:35:28 PM EDT
[Last Edit: Donith]
[#14]
CHAPTER 4
It had been only three years since the new president had been elected, but a lot of changes had taken place. The most notable in the country’s healthcare system. At the end of his first year in office, the president had announced that he had finally achieved his goal. He had enough votes to pass his universal healthcare reform. He introduced a government insurance plan. Everyone in the country was now insured. Each person was issued an insurance card from the government. It was to cover all needed healthcare. It was to be paid for by a healthcare deduction from each person’s paycheck, much the same as social security. Each and every person in the country’s medical information was to be stored on a national database. A new beuracracy was formed, the National Center for the Coordination of Health Information Technology. Their job was to monitor the healthcare provided to each person and make sure that everyone was getting the most cost effective care. They would also make sure that no unnecessary tests were done and that no medical treatments were accidentally repeated. They would save us all a lot of money in the long run. The president also announced a salary cap for all doctors and medical workers. This was also to help cut down on the cost of healthcare. All general practitioners were to receive $200,000 a year, while specialists could receive up to $250,000. Nurses and other healthcare workers would get somewhat less than the doctors. Shortly after the implementation of the government healthcare plan, quite a few doctors decided to retire. Many were afraid of government interference in their practices. They feared that they would no longer be free to assign the care they felt was necessary for their patients. Some of them feared government retribution if they asked for expensive tests or treatments. Some just felt that the new salary cap made the job no longer worth the time and effort that it required. As a result, there was now a shortage of doctors. The shortage of healthcare providers meant months of waiting just to get an appointment and long lines once you finally got into a doctor’s office. For those people who were healthy, it made little difference. They had to wait longer to get shots and checkups, but most were not bothered much by that. However, if you became sick, time could mean the difference between life and death. There were rumors of people who had died while waiting to get an appointment to see a doctor. Rumors of those who had actually died in the emergency room while waiting to be seen, or while waiting outside in an ambulance. Rumors of a swell in the number of deaths among the elderly. The administration did a good job of keeping the media in line and such things were never widely reported. When the stories did appear, mostly on the internet, they were treated as ludicrous and grossly exaggerated by government officials and media personnel alike. The rumors, however, still persisted. CHAPTER 5 Don was thinking. He had heard rumors of people who could not get the medical attention they needed from the government run healthcare program. He had tried not to think about those stories before. He had wanted to believe that they were just stories. But now, as his own family joined these others, he realized that these stories were very probably true. He had heard of a woman who had had a recurrence of breast cancer and had been refused care. He remembered hearing that she had gotten help from someone else. It had seemed to be a modern myth at the time, but now, the story seemed to hold a small amount of hope. If this other woman had been able to find help outside of the government healthcare, maybe he could too. He knew what he had to do. He had to find this woman and discover where this help was. Don was at work. He knew that he had to be careful. His instincts told him that there could be trouble if he was caught, but he knew he had to try. “Hey, Steve,” he said casually. “Hey,” Steve answered. “Do you remember hearing about that lady that had breast cancer and she couldn’t get approved for surgery?” “Yeah.” “Did you ever hear who she was?” “No.” Steve was busy working. He was only half paying attention to what Don was saying. That was what Don wanted. He didn’t want to draw to much attention to his questions. “Wasn’t she supposed to be a relative of someone down in customer service?” “Yeah, I think so.” “You don’t remember her name, though, huh?” Steve stopped working and looked up. “Why do you care?” he asked. Don looked away quickly and began to work again. He knew that he had to be careful. “I don’t. I just wondered if it was really true.” Don worked in the R&D machine shop at a small appliance factory. There were five other men who worked in the shop with him. It was a pretty good job. He didn’t make a ton of money, but it was enough to pay the bills and take care of his large family. His work wasn’t always fun, but it was better than the monotony of the production line. He often enjoyed working with the mills and lathes in the shop. He did very precise work and he was rather proud of the good job he was known for. Steve was his supervisor. He had been working at KitchenStar for more than ten years. He knew everyone and everything that went on at the factory. He had been working with Don for several years now, and he knew his family. He had heard about Don’s small son’s medical problems and he knew that they were having trouble getting a much needed operation approved. He watched Don as he zeroed the mill and then began turning the wheels to cut the steel to size. He could tell that Don was anxious. He thought of his own grandson and how much he loved him. He knew that if he were in Don’s position, he would do anything to help his own family. He glanced around the room. The other guys were busy working in other parts of the room. He knew that they would probably not hear anything that he said. “I think it was a relative of Maria’s,” he said. “She won’t talk about it here. You can catch her after work. She rides the bus home, I think.” Don looked up. His eyes met Steve’s for only a moment, but an understanding passed between them. Don smiled. “Thanks,” he said. Steve nodded. Both men returned to their work. They were both very busy for the next four hours. **** Don didn’t know Maria very well. She worked in the customer service department. He knew that she answered phones. What else her job entailed he didn’t know. He hadn’t really thought much about her before. He had smiled and waved when he had seen her at Walmart a couple of times and had spent a few minutes talking to her at company picnics. Other than that, they had really not had any interaction. Don thought about her now. He hoped that she would be able to help him. Don drove quickly down the street to the bus stop. He hoped that he wasn’t too late. He was relieved to see Maria standing there in a small group of people. He pulled over to the curb and rolled down his window. “Maria!” He spoke loudly to be sure she could hear him. Maria looked over at him. She looked surprised. He gestured that he wanted her to come over and talk to him. She walked over. “Yes?” she asked. “Did you need something?” “I was wondering if you could help me,” he said. “I need to ask you a few questions. I would be happy to drive you home. Then, maybe we could talk.” Maria looked suspicious. “What do you want to talk about?” Don hesitated. He looked around to be sure that nobody was too close. “I had heard that a relative of yours got some medical treatment. Treatment outside of the government system.” Maria stared hard at Don for a few minutes. “I don’t know what you are talking about,” she finally said. “The government system covers everyone, right? Universal coverage,” there was a hint of sarcasm in her voice. “That is what they call it, isn’t it? There is no need for any other help outside of the government.” She turned to walk away. “See you tomorrow.” “Wait, please. My son… He needs help.” Don was feeling desperate. He needed to find help somewhere, anywhere. He couldn’t let Maria walk away without hearing his plea. Maria stopped. She turned around and walked back over to Don’s car. She looked into his eyes, searching them. She glanced around, then opened the door and got into the passenger seat. “Thanks,” she said, and closed the door. Maria gave Don directions to her house. She watched him carefully as they drove. “Now, tell me about your son.” Don explained what his sons heart condition was. He told her about the operation that he had already had. He told her how the problem had returned and that his son was in desperate need of another operation. “They won’t approve another operation. They say it is too costly and that he has already used too much government resources.” Maria could feel the anguish in Don’s voice as he told her about their petition for a reconsideration of his son’s case, the disgust as he told her about how they had wanted them to sign an organ donation form on his small son’s behalf. She knew the feelings well. When Don had finished telling his story, she cleared her throat and looked straight ahead. “My niece was diagnosed with breast cancer two years ago,” she began. “She had an operation and chemotherapy. The cancer was gone. She was cured. About a year ago, her doctor found that the cancer had returned. Her healthcare worker put her on a waiting list. After several months, I went with her to talk to them. I told them that while she was waiting, the cancer was spreading. Soon it would be incurable. They told us that she would not be getting any treatment. She had already used enough of their resources. Our pleading fell upon deaf ears. They did not care that she would die. Only that they would save money by not treating her a second time. She has two young children. They need their mother. We didn’t know what to do. A nurse working with her doctor gave me a card. It had an address on it. She said that we may find help there. We went to the address. It was an old building. We were shown into a waiting room. Soon, a doctor came to talk with us. He was very helpful. In just a few days, Anna had an operation. She is still undergoing chemotherapy at this time. I have seen others at this place, too. There are several doctors, nurses and pharmacists that work there. It is an underground hospital. It is very important that its location remain secret. I will give the address to you. But you must never share it with anyone, unless they are also in need of its services. It is the last hope of many. You have no idea how many are turned away in the government system. I am going to trust you to keep the location of underground a secret. And more than that. Its very existence must remain secret.” “I understand,” Don replied. “The secret is safe with me.” A short while later, Don was driving home with a smile on his face. He felt happy and hopeful for the first time in months. Although the government may not care about the life of one small boy, there were still people out there that might. Doctors and nurses and people who could help. He could hardly wait to get home and tell his wife the good news. |
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OK, USA
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Posted: 6/8/2009 12:31:51 AM EDT
[#15]
woo-hoo, more beer!, ummm, I mean, MORE STORY!
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Posted: 6/18/2009 12:56:24 AM EDT
[#16]
A wonderful story so far, the initial chapters get me mad, and that is always a good thing to keep up interest.
In the last chapter posted, he does get the address of the hospital easier than I would expect. Looking forward to more please. |
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Posted: 6/18/2009 8:53:02 PM EDT
[#17]
These are just my wife's rough drafts and she appreciates the encouragement and sugestions.
She does plan on expanding some of the chapters and such. She wants to get a working story hammered out before spending too much time on research, character development, and the nitty gritty details. She has another chapter done, and you'll get it when I do. (I read it while editing txt and spacing for arfcom) |
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WA, USA
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Posted: 6/19/2009 10:18:37 PM EDT
[#18]
Please keep it coming. Your wife is doing great.
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MO, USA
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Posted: 6/22/2009 9:14:33 PM EDT
[#19]
Please tell your wife that she has a great talent and to please keep it coming. But I must ask, is she psychic? I personally think that this will be a work of non-fiction if Obama has his way. I'm not trying to turn this thread into politics, just a statement.
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Posted: 6/24/2009 3:24:54 AM EDT
[#20]
The book is very politically motivated, though she says she won't name the president.
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Posted: 6/24/2009 3:39:03 AM EDT
[Last Edit: Donith]
[#21]
CHAPTER 6 Don and Yvonne were sitting in a small room. It was dim and a little shabby. There was a couch and an armchair that both looked as though they had seen better days. There was a coffee table that had a stack of magazines on it, though all of them were outdated by several years. The only light came from a lamp sitting on an end table in one corner. Yvonne flipped through an old copy of Better Homes and Gardens. She was feeling nervous, yet hopeful. She didn’t want to get her hopes too high. She had been on such an emotional rollercoaster these past couple of years. The last few months had been particularly difficult. Archer was getting noticeably weaker. The government healthcare system had refused to help him, and there seemed nowhere else to go. But now there was a ray of hope. Don had gotten information about an underground healthcare system. It was a place of hope for the hopeless. He had talked to someone who had been here and received the help that they needed when the government had refused any assistance. Yvonne couldn’t help but feel hopeful once again. After a few minutes, a man came into the room. “Hello,” he said with a smile. He held out his hand. “I am Dr. Wayne. Now, suppose that you explain to me what your problem is.” Don shook his hand. “I am Don Johnson. This is my wife Yvonne.” He offered his hand to Yvonne and she shook it. He was a tall man, probably in his mid-fifties. His hair was brown, though graying at the temples. He was of average build and dressed in tan colored slacks and a maroon, button up shirt. He wore a pair of metal framed glasses. He seemed friendly. “It’s our son,” Don started. “He is very sick.” Yvonne spoke next. “He is only four years old.” She then explained the heart defect that little Archer had. She told of his many doctor appointments, tests, and finally his surgery. She told how his heart problem had returned. She described his symptoms; how tired he was, how pale and how sick. She explained that his treatment had been denied by their healthcare worker and also that their appeal had been denied by a board from the Center for the Coordination of Health Information Technology. Then Don told how he had heard from a coworker about the Underground. “So do you think that you can help us?” he finally asked. Dr. Wayne was thoughtful. “I believe that we may be able to help you,” he said. Relief spread across both their faces and they simultaneously began to thank the doctor. Dr. Wayne raised his hand up to protest. “I said that we my be able to help you,” he continued. “But I will be honest with you. Your son will have to have an echocardiogram and an EKG to determine the location of the tissue growth, before he can have the surgery. He will need to take some medication, not to mention the surgical procedure itself. All of these things have a cost. We do our best to keep the cost at a minimum for our patients, however, these are all very costly procedures. We can help your son, but it will not be cheap. You will need to pay a substantial amount of money.” Don was looking more serious now. “We don’t have a lot of extra money,” he paused. “But we will come up with whatever is needed. The cost is unimportant. Just, please, help our son. We will come up with the money.” Dr. Wayne brought them into a back room. It had a large desk and a lot of filling cabinets. There was a woman behind the desk. She had short gray hair and a lot of wrinkles on her pleasant looking face. She wore very thick glasses and a long,black skirt with a blue blouse. “This is Mrs. Peacock,” the doctor said with a comical smile and a wink. “She will help you with the paper work. Mrs. Peacock, this is Don and Yvonne Johnson. We will be admitting their son, soon. Please, give them all the necessary forms.” The doctor left the room and Mrs. Peacock smiled a friendly smile. She said hello and began to gather some papers together with a clipboard and a pen. “We do things the old fashioned way around here. All of our patients are kept track of on paper.” She handed them the clipboard and pen. Yvonne grabbed them and sat in a chair and began to fill them out. There were a lot of forms and questionnaires about family health history. It took a while to fill everything out. Mrs. Peacock was very friendly and chattered almost nonstop. She talked about the weather for a while, then went on to discuss a few recent news items. She then asked Don a few questions about his family and told about her own. She was a widow. She had one daughter and two grandchildren, a boy and a girl. Her family lived nearby and were all well and healthy. She then told them about Dr. Wayne and how she had come to work for him. Dr. Wayne had been her doctor for the last twelve years. He had retired about a year ago, frustrated with his lack of control over his patients healthcare. He had felt that a lot of shortcuts were being taken at the risk of many who were under his care. He had decided that he could no longer run his practice in good conscience. It had been shortly after his retirement, that she had been diagnosed with breast cancer. She had been told by her healthcare assistance worker, that she was not eligible for treatment because of her age. She was 70 years old. She was given some pain medication and told to go home and enjoy what short time she had left. She had been devastated. She had called her old doctor to ask him if he could help her. He had helped her to file an appeal and had testified before the board on her behalf. But, in the end, she was still denied. Dr. Wayne had contacted her shortly after that. He told her that he may be able to help her. He explained that a friend of his, who was also a doctor, and he, had decided to offer some medical help to people who were denied by the government healthcare program. They knew a man who was a veterinarian. He owned a large building and had offered to let them work there. Half of the building was empty so they would find plenty of room. He had two surgical rooms and was giving one to them to work in. Because the building housed an animal hospital, it would be natural to find medical equipment there. It was the perfect front. Mrs. Peacock had been one of their first patients. She had had surgery and then undergone chemotherapy. She was cancer free at this time. She had been so grateful for their help. Now she wanted to help others. The doctors needed someone to help with paperwork, and keeping files on all of their patients. She decided to join their team. So, here she was. She was a sort of a secretary. “I always keep my eyes and ears open, looking for patients, also,” she told them. “Of course, we have to be careful. Everything is very hush, hush. We can only approach those whom we think we can trust to keep this place secret. I don’t know what would happen if the government found out about us. I guess we would probably all go to jail.” She paused for moment. “It is worth it, though. Even the risk of going to jail. There are so many people that need help. I know that I don’t do much. But I hope that even my little bit of work can make a difference. Maybe even help to save a life.” She smiled at them. “I guess I am just happy to be able to do something important.” Yvonne smiled back at her. “You are doing something wonderful here,” she said. “We are very grateful.” She bent down and finished filling out the papers. She looked up at Mrs. Peacock once again. “How many patients do you have here, anyway?” Mrs. Peacock glanced around a little nervously. “Oh, I don’t know. I am not sure of the exact number. We have had quite a few. Well,” she smiled again. “It isn’t important how many. The point is just to help as many as we can.” “I understand,” Yvonne replied. She handed the stack of papers back to the older woman. “I hope that will be all of the papers for a while. I’ll get a file made up for you, now.” She set the papers on her desk as she moved back to sit in her chair. She looked through a planner that she had at one end of the desk. “Bring your son in, in two weeks. On Wednesday at 11:00. You can expect to be here for a while. He will need an echocardiogram and probably an EKG. Dr. Wayne will want to do a thorough examination. He’ll know exactly what should be done for him, then.” Mrs. Peacock smiled. “If you’ll wait here, I’ll get the doctor. He will need to talk to you about the cost.” She stood up and left the room. They did not have to wait long. Dr. Wayne entered the room carrying a file folder. He sat down on a chair and pulled it closer toward them. He opened his folder and began to thumb through the papers it contained. “Like I told you, we try to keep the cost as low as we can for our patients. However, tests and procedures are not free. And it costs just to keep this place running. We do have operating costs.” He paused and held out a paper. “I have made you an itemized list that shows the cost of each test that we need your son to have right away. He will need an echo and an EKG. I will also just give him a regular checkup and see just how soon he needs this operation. It shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours. The cost for this initial visit will be about $800. As I am not sure yet exactly what your son needs, I can’t give you an exact price for the operation. However, this shows you a rough estimate.” He handed them a second paper. “It will cost somewhere around $30,000.” He paused and looked directly at them. “Of course we can arrange for some kind of a payment plan, but I am afraid that we need $20,000 of it right away. As you can see, that will just cover the cost of running our equipment and the medication that he will need. You will need to decide if this is something you can do.” Don and Yvonne looked at each other. Each knew that the other was thinking the same thing. Don nodded and gave a quick smile to his wife. “We don’t need to think about it. Our son needs this operation. We will get the money somehow.” Dr. Wayne stood up and nodded with satisfaction. “I’ll see your son on Wednesday, then.” He smiled as he shook hands with each them. “I’ll have Mrs. Peacock show you out.” As they walked out of the animal hospital and back to their car, Don and Yvonne were feeling mixed emotions. They were relieved and happy to know that their son could get the operation that he needed. They were also worried about how they would ever be able to pay for it. They didn’t talk much. Both were somewhat lost in their thoughts. Yvonne got into the car and don closed her door. Then he walked over to the driver side and opened the door. As he bent over to get into the car he could feel the pressure, by his back pocket, of his concealed handgun. He had permit to carry a concealed weapon and usually had his Glock on him. Through his mind flashed some recent gun laws enacted by the president. It was getting more and more difficult to buy a handgun at all. Lawsuits had been filed against several gun manufacturers by the government. Some had been driven out of business, others had had to raise their prices substantially in order to stay in business. Also, taxes on firearms and ammunition were now so high, many could not afford them. All this flashed through his mind in a few seconds. Don got into the car and closed the door. He had a faint smile on his face. He had a idea of how he might be able to raise the cash needed for his son’s operation. |
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WA, USA
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Posted: 6/25/2009 9:21:32 PM EDT
[#22]
Tell your wife great job. Please keep 'em coming.
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TX, USA
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Posted: 6/27/2009 9:43:30 AM EDT
[#23]
This is a great piece of work. Please encourage your wife to continue writing this story.
AKASL LIVE FREE OR DIE |
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OK, USA
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Posted: 6/30/2009 12:18:24 AM EDT
[#24]
tell your wife she is doing a great job, now if my girlfriend would start writing, we could have some more great stories.
can't wait for the rest. |
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Posted: 7/29/2009 7:42:04 PM EDT
[#25]
The rest of chapter six is now included.
She says she has a few more chapters ready but won't share them till she does some research/ editing. Yeah, I know... I have to wait, too. |
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USA
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Posted: 7/29/2009 8:47:49 PM EDT
[#26]
Can't blame her for wanting to do her research.
It wouldn't do for her to write something like "...and with that he cocked the hammer on his Glock..." or something else that would be so obviously wrong to the readers on this forum. |
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Posted: 8/24/2009 11:51:20 PM EDT
[#27]
We are still here patiently waiting for that few more chapters you mentioned.
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Posted: 8/27/2009 5:11:51 AM EDT
[#28]
cool story and a bit to close to home
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Posted: 12/11/2009 7:07:19 PM EDT
[#29]
Any more on this story?
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Posted: 12/12/2009 1:36:00 AM EDT
[#30]
Originally Posted By lumper:
We are still here patiently waiting for that few more chapters you mentioned. Ahem, 4 months has passed. We are still interested if your wife decides to continue writing. |
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