I have a friend.
My friend served in the United States Marine Corps during the Vietnam War.
My friend remembers what he had to do in that war. As is often the case, this memory is painful for him.
The United States Government, in the form of the Department of Veterans Affairs, claims that the pain that my friend is experiencing is not the result of his service in that war.
I don’t know the details of this case in depth, and I’m not a psychologist. It seems obvious that the pain and depression that my friend is suffering could be related to his service in war. To me, as long as it’s even possible that the two are connected, someone like my friend deserves all the help that our society can provide, but then, I’m not a bureaucrat.
Whiskey Tango Foxtrot?
But then, as far as I’m concerned, those who serve this country in war deserve the best health care that exists. That’s true if my friend slips on ice and stubs his toe. That’s true if my friend develops a pimple. That’s true if my friend bumps his head today and sees polka-dotted flamingos.
One could argue that any human being deserves the same level of care, but not everyone agrees. Surely, though, no matter which side of the aisle you are on in Congress or which political party you support with your vote, you can agree with me that anyone who served this country in a war deserves what I described. My friend served as a United States Marine in Vietnam, and he deserves the the best, Cadillac, gold-plated health care on Uncle Sam’s dime.
This leaves me with just one question:
What the goddamned bloody fuck is wrong with that?
To my friend: You know who you are. You have friends. If there is anything that we can do for you, you name it.
We’ve got your back, Marine!