Sicko Evening

There are two films in this posting, of very different natures; Sicko and Evening. I'll start with the latter since I saw it first.

Evening is a chick-flick, unapologetically. It is about first love and loss and forgiveness and living. It wasn't as good as I wanted it to be. I wanted the film to completely blow me away and stir me and change me. I wanted too much and probably didn't like the film as much as I would have if those expectations hadn't been there. The cast consists of no less than Vanessa Redgrave, Clare Danes, Toni Collette, Natasha Richardson, Glenn Close, Mamie Gummer, Meryl Streep, Eileen Atkins and also the males; Hugh Dancy and Patrick Wilson.

Basically, the film finds Redgrave on her deathbed reflecting on Harris (played by Wilson), her only true love, events surrounding their meeting and the subsequent life she led after she lost him. Harris and most of her youth are a mystery to daughters Collette and Richardson who learn about their mother and themselves as she looks back at the past. The film flashes between the past and the present with the young version of Redgrave's character played by Danes and Streep’s by her real-life daughter Mamie Gummer. Streep arrives in the end shedding a faint light on Redgrave for the girls and granting Redgrave the peace of mind she needs to basically die. There was no spoiler here because you know from the start this is what's coming (it's in the preview).

The film equally weighs the present and the past but left me wanting more. I wanted more interaction between Streep and Redgrave. I realized after reflection though, I just wanted to see more of Streep and that the film handled quite well the interaction between the two characters in their older age. It wasn't the greatest film but there was a wonderful lesson in living and forgiveness of one's own mistakes that the film presented. The acting is flawless and there is no over dramatization in the performances. If anything, Danes for example was quite subtle and beautiful. I especially enjoyed Dancy's performance as well.

Sicko, in case you don't know, is Michael Moore's newest documentary which looks at the flawed if not tragically so, American health care system in contrast to the socialized health care systems found in Canada, France, Britain and Cuba (yes, Cuba). The film was well done as expected and with the exception of a few charming (if you agree with him) quips by Moore, a fair assessment of insurance and health care in the US. Real people told their stories. There was no need for melodrama as the stories conjured up emotions of anger and disenchantment on their own. Sure, there are positive things in our system. The right insurance and the right situation yield a positive result but the documentary wasn't about what works. It was about what doesn't work and naysayers who find the film unfair should keep that in mind and tell their own fairy tale on their own dime if they so choose. They already sort of do if one considers Pfizer and Kaiser ads to name two.

For a second time that I remember, I find myself truly disheartened with our health care system, to the point that I want to do something. I want to take action and fight. Generally speaking, I have known that people are treated unfairly (if they are treated at all!) and that the U.S. healthcare system discriminates against the uninsured, the sick (MS is a pre-existing condition) and the poor. I have known that I am lucky to have the coverage I do and that some people in much worse condition than me can't afford annually more than a month's worth of the medication I don't even bother taking half the time for no good reason. I have been aware of this and weighed down by this but the only other time I remember a fire starting in me and a desire to do something about it was several years ago on a trip to NYC.

Here is my story:
I love NYC and I love America, but I know they are flawed. In December of 2003, I was crossing the street near the Empire State Building when I slipped on a patch of ice and landed unfavorably on the inside of my right knee. It was a tough lesson in proper footwear for such weather and after I finished cursing my New Balance shows and crossing the street, I realized the pain I was in and shortly thereafter passed out. Not a good start to a vacation to be sure. My point? I'm getting to it. Due to a poor booking, my friend and I were staying in Queens. By the time we got back to the hotel, I could barely walk and had to go to the ER. The ER in Queens was dismal. I was well-insured at the time and had money so that was no object. Still, I was there from 11pm until 2am without being seen. There were maybe 3 people in the waiting room but still, it took that long. When I was called back, my friend and I entered a room that neither of us could believe existed in a hospital, a place that people were supposed to be when they needed care, safety and comfort the most.

All of the beds were full and chairs were randomly placed throughout the room. A man with a soiled open gown and even more unsanitary underwear wandered around muttering to himself and disturbing others. People were clearly uncomfortable all around and doctors and nurses ignored them as the called out with a question. After 20 minutes, I was seen and learned that before I could have an x-ray, they needed a urine sample.

I asked the nurse why thinking that it was a drug test. I explained that I had been up for over 24 hours and assured him that I was not on any drugs. He said it was for a pregnancy test. At the time, I assure any reader that a pregnancy would have been impossible...even less possible than as I type this! I told the nurse that I was not pregnant and it wouldn't be necessary. It was hospital policy though because "you never know." I knew but I also knew I had to comply. I took the cup and went to the bathroom. At this point, I had no crutches or assistance and made my way along the wall, getting support where I could.

In the bathroom there was urine and excrement on the floor (hopefully that's what it was) and on the toilet seat. I had to figure out a way to avoid sitting on the toilet while getting my sample into the cup and putting minimal pressure on my injured leg. I can't tell you how I did it but mission accomplished I got out as fast as I could and sat back down, several ounces of urine in hand. I got into a wheelchair at that point because one was sitting there and wheeled up to the nurses' station. I held my urine cup up and was told by a nurse to just hold onto it. What?!? Hold onto it? I saw the nurse who asked for the sample and he ignored me when I called. I was told also to back away from the counter. 15 minutes later I finally yelled, "Someone please take my urine!" I was fed up. My friend and I were nearly in shock at how I was being treated and in looking around me I faced the reality that this is how people are really treated outside of La Jolla and the safety of UCSD. I was out by about 430am but by then I was completely exhausted and burdened by what I had seen. Ignoring my own problems, I was devastated by what I had witnessed.

I wasn't devastated enough I suppose because I did nothing about it other than look up a few Public Policy grad programs, go to physical therapy and forget about it until now. I don't know if I will this time either but to start I am telling anyone who reads this that they should see Sicko and keep an open mind and to vote and to spread the word. See Sicko!