America has slipped down the rabbit hole. Doctors are closing their practices and retiring early. Americans’ medical options are shrinking daily. Despite our politicians’ reassurances, we will not get to keep our regular doctors. Already some insurers have notified clients they’ll need to find other plans, if they can. Premiums will skyrocket.
Those who need a specialist for a life-threatening illness will have to fly to India, Dubai or Brazil. Those unable to afford medical tourism will languish on long waiting lists. Some of us will die, some will live.
Government bureaucrats, like Kathleen Sebelius, but not a doctor, will make life-or-death decisions for us. Our private medical histories, including deeply intimate details about our sex lives, will be in the tender hands of the IRS, NSA, DHS and pimply-faced hackers.
Barry, Harry and Nancy have managed to squeeze more than 300 million of us through their utopian cattle chute. The surprise at the end will be ugly and permanent. So you’d better find a neighborhood shaman, witch doctor or tea leaves reader.
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