Friday, June 29, 2007
Though sometimes the man makes me shake my fist at the sky and mutter things under my breath like "get a grip," I must admit that I really enjoyed Michael Moore's take on the state of America's health care system in his latest film.
As I sit on my Canadian ass and bitch about having to pay for my own plan to cover the cost of prescription drugs, I shuddered at the amounts my southern neighbours are expected to pay for annual check-ups, X-rays and, horror of all horrors, a trip to the hospital.
That people who have won the battle over cancer or searched for survivors after 9/11 are now facing bankruptcy despite living in one of the wealthiest countries in the world is disheartening.
Moore takes us on a comparative tour of the health care systems in England, France, Canada and Cuba to see how America stacks up. Guantanamo Bay appears to be the best place to obtain healthcare while on American soil. Too bad you have to be a terrorist to gain access to it.
I know, I know, it's not like me to start getting all political and finger-pointy, but I must say that I'm glad I saw this film. It showed me how lucky I am, especially as a diabetic, to be living in a country where I can receive medical attention no matter what my bank balance is.
There are some hilarious moments when Moore is trying to find where you have to pay the bill in a British hospital. He finally comes up to a window labelled "Cashier." Much to his chagrin, this is where people can obtain money for a cab ride home or be compensated for any expenses incurred in order to get to the hospital.
Whereas in one section of L.A., cabs were used to drop off patients who couldn't pay their hospital bills to a hospice on Skid Row. Nice.