I was excited yesterday. I have only three chapters to go, and then I’m finished with the first draft of my Beowulf novel. Since I’ve approached this project a little differently, and have been writing multiple drafts simultaneously, I am already caught up on the second draft. So. Three chapters. This feels awesome. Super exciting. I am so close to finishing that I can almost taste that Aperol Spritz I’ve been telling myself I’ll partake of from my drinking horn, to celebrate completion.
Today, though, I find myself thinking about other things.
About Republicans, or, Rethuglicans, if you will. About how I am stable, and healthy, and about how these two facts rely on my access to healthcare.
Being diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder is not the worst thing that could happen to a person. Definitely not. But it can be a real bitch sometimes, and there is hurt and pain involved.
My worst episode involved me living through a month of being gripped by a belief that I could be controlled. (Literally, there was a shadowy figure dressed in a long dark coat involved. I know. Kind of cliché. But that’s what happened.) The symptoms were bad, and frightening enough that I also developed some genuine post-traumatic stress, directly related to the episode. Because, why not? Life is just not hard enough.
Largely, I am okay these days. (That episode happened when I was 30.) Largely, access to medication, and maybe even more importantly, to a year of the kind of weekly therapy where I talked not just about the here, or the now, but about deep-seeded psychological issues has saved my life. (Literally, because, you know, suicide.)
But, you know. Without healthcare…
And I am doing stuff with my life. I write, and I read, and I help people, and sometimes I don’t because I’m also a jerk. Basically, I’m a human being.
In my mind, and in the minds of many, there seems to be an intrinsic value attached to being human, but more and more, I have to accept that this value is nothing approaching universal.
I’m tempted to declare that of this moment, I will no longer share space with anyone who believes they should not have to pay for the healthcare of others. With anyone who does not understand that they too may become vulnerable. With anyone who does not believe that we are all in this together. Tempted. Very tempted.
Strangely enough, all of this has a Beowulf tie-in. Yes, I swear to god, it does. (I’m talking, for the most part, about this strange idea AHCA supporters seem to have about their own good health.) Stay with me, because I am going to explain this, albeit as briefly as I can.
There is a part of this very old epic poem that is sometimes referred to as “Hrothgar’s Sermon,” delivered, yup, you guessed it, by Hrothgar, in his hall after Beowulf defeats Grendel’s mother. (If you need a refresher, Hrothgar is the Danish king whose hall, Heorot, has been plagued by Grendel. It is to Hrothgar’s aid that our hero, Beowulf, comes.)
Since I’m feeling a little lazy, and don’t feel like searching through Heaneywulf to find this gem, I am going to quote the Gareth Hinds’ version. It’s a pretty good paraphrase of the sermon, and also, I just poured over this graphic novel version yesterday, so the book happens to be conveniently at hand.
Here goes (and again, I am quoting the Gareth Hinds version, and this is only part of it):
“Take thou, therefore, good heed, O Beowulf, against pride and arrogance. Choose the better path: profit eternal. Now, indeed, thou art in the pride of thy strength and the power of thy youth; but there will come of a surety, sooner or later, either sickness or the sword; fire shall consume thee or the floods swallow thee up. Be it bite of blade or brandished spear, or odious age, or the eyes’ clear beam grown dull and leaden.”
“Come in what shape it may, death will subdue even thee, thou hero of war.”
(To paraphrase: Maybe your life is great now, but bad times will come. Because that’s how life works.)
Why don’t Republicans understand this? I know it. I gather that most of you know it. The anonymous poet knew it. To me, this shows just what outliers the Republicans are, with their truly awful vision of what can conceivably be called “healthcare.” Their values don’t fall within normal human bounds.
But just in case you are even mildly okay with the AHCA, let me lay this out for you. You are probably going to get sick someday, or suffer injury or accident, or need elder care, or at least this will happen to someone you love. Your illness (or their illness) may make you poor, or it might not, but you may still need help paying for healthcare. And, even though you are sick, or injured, or old, your life will still matter. But so did all of our lives, all along, that you couldn’t be bothered with. Because we do matter. Just because we’re human.
Hmmm. Beowulf. Maybe I’ll work on my novel some after all.
Till next week.
PS. Slightly tempted to spam Paul Ryan with highlighted versions of Beowulf, but is he even accepting mail???