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Saturday, September 20, 2008
Finding Wyoming| Maps don't help. The only way to find Wyoming is to spend
the time, ask around, and make mistakes. Part of finding Wyoming is getting lost.
Our Wyoming home is the Big
Sandy opening in the Wind River range. To get there you take the short cut near Kemmerer past the oil refinery to Farson.
Back when we fished, you could get your fishing license at the Farson General Store. But under new management it's been
"yuppified," and now has the word "Mercantile" in the name. That means you can get fancy ice cream there
but you have to go on to the ranger station for your fishing license. We don't, having given up fishing long ago in favor
of less active pursuits.
This trip we were "packed in." That means a horse carries the gear to your
prefered camping spot in the high country. Sometimes when they pack you in the guys tell you they'll leave your gear at
the rock with two trees growing out of it. Funny joke, because there are so many of those that you'll never find your
gear! Either that or there aren't any. Wyoming is paradoxical.
Hiking out from the lakes, you can save a
mile or so by taking the short cut where the sheep carcass used to be. These directions winnow out those who haven't put
in their time. So do the signs in the Bridger Wilderness Area. Propped up by piles of rocks, half of them have been out in
the elements so long that the carved-in writing has faded. But the signs still mark a change in destination - it's just
unclear what, exactly, it will consist of. Wyoming is mysterious.
To get to the Big Sandy Opening, you take about
75 miles of dirt road. Whatever you do, don't take the Muddy Speedway on your way to Big Sandy Lodge. It's been replaced
by the New Road. Too bad, really, because some of my fondest Wyoming memories involved heroic efforts to get our car out of
the mud.
And so it goes - getting lost, getting dirty, getting tired, and getting cold, hot, wet, dry and sore
- eventually you find Wyoming. Life slows down and beauty comes into focus. The people around you matter more than ever and
best of all, your sense of humor slips back into place.
9:42 pm edt
A Different Kind of Health Care SystemThis week I received clear evidence that New Zealand does indeed have a different kind of health care system.
Having been here for a year, some differences between the countries have become muted. I don't struggle to understand
kiwi accents, even when returning from a few months in the states. My ear just switches gears. And driving is less challenging.
I switch to the left side with only a few goofs - and those are funny now, not scary.
But this week's letter
was a stand-out difference. It came from the Otago District Health Board, and advised me that the DHB had set an appointment
for my mammogram - which is free. They'd like me to have a mammogram every other year - for free - until I am 69. So they'd
like to see me and squish my breasts on Oct. 3, if that's alright with me. A map to the hospital was included, as well
as a pamphlet on the health benefits of mammograms.
Isn't that nice of them? As it turns out, I had a mammogram
on my latest trip to the states and Larry is still dealing with the multiple bills and notices that flowed from that. It's
covered by Blue Cross, but not free - and certainly no government agency set my appointment! In fact, I had to wait longer
for that appointment than I would for my kiwi exam.
It's nice, but as an American I'm edgy. I wonder
how the DHB got my address. And how did they know my age? I suspect that my GP filled out some form online to put me on the
mammogram list.
But then I'm reminded of another letter that was waiting for me when I returned in August.
This one was from the Electoral Board. It advised me that I was required by law to register as a voter - if I was eligible
to vote. So would I please return the enclosed form in the enclosed free envelope to register? As holder of a permanent resident
visa I am eligible to vote. So I returned the form and registered to vote. Now I wonder, did the form include my birth date?
I think it did. So maybe when I registered to vote I found my way to the mammogram list? I doubt it -
I suspect
my GP's the culprit. I bet she's required to send names and addresses of everyone who needs a mammogram in to the
DHB. Then I saw a commercial advising young women that the Guardasil HPV vaccination is free for them between ages 12 and
19. I wonder if the DHB is setting appointments for them?
My first reaction harkens to Big Brother - "Who's
watching me??" But I soon realize that the question should be "Who's watching over me?" And this illustrates
one more difference in the relationship between individuals and government in this country. Privacy is a lower priority. And
expectations are SO benign! In my lifetime the Kiwi government has never killed its own citizens. My 20-something students
were shocked when I showed them a slide of Kent State. There is no constitution to constrain government power over individuals.
But most kiwis don't feel they need such constraint. They rely on precedent and expect government to behave in a civilized
manner.
Here the government watches over me. OK, I know this is not about love and affection. The DHB expects
to save money by giving me a free mammogram - and by giving young women the HPV vaccine. But somehow this knowledge makes
me feel cared for as I walk home from the office.
8:06 pm edt
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