I was invited to attend a 'Healthcare Organizing Kickoff' by Mitch Stewart at barackobama.com that took place today.  I decided to attend to see what was going to be discussed at an event like this.  It took place at our local Democratic Party Headquarters, and lasted a little over two hours.  We were all issued a sheet of 'talking points' with which to arm ourselves when defending health care reform to those who may remain opposed to the idea.   I was heartened by the overwhelming support for a single payer healthcare plan.  In fact, if there was anyone in attendance who was not 100% committed to single payer, they were keeping their mouths shut during some pretty heated discussion about the general feeling of disenfranchisement from the political discussion as regards single payer.  One of the ardent supporters of single payer whom I spoke to following the discussion, is a salesman for long term health insurance.  I shook his hand, and told him I find it encouraging that someone who makes his living within the existing, for-profit system is not threatened by the prospects of instituting a single payer system in America. 

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Since the economy tanked we've seen numerous metrics used to describe the effects that mortgage brokers, ratings agencies, bankers and hedge fund managers have precipitated on the nation and the world.  Some of the most common measurements are increasing unemployment rates, a significant decline in the growth rate of the Gross Domestic Product, lost value in the stock market, all accompanied by increased fears of inflation/stagflation/deflation.  Other measurements, such as human sickness and death attributable to the economic downturn, have been largely ignored to date.  Linking specific deaths and illnesses to economic conditions is difficult.  Researchers who have attempted to do this with past recessions have had to rely on measuring changes in population mortality and morbidity rates (before, during, and after economic downturns) on the assumption that changes in the population rates will correlate to an economy-wide shock, such as recession.  In time we may see statistics that quantify the impact of the current downturn on national mortality and morbidity.  A recent article in the British Medical Journal, informs us that the collapse of the Russian economy was associated with a significant increase in mortality among working age men in former Soviet countries. Similar results were indicated in a study subsequent to the restructuring of the New Zealand economy.  Counterintuitively, researchers have heretofore, found that death rates in the US actually decline during economic downturns . They surmise that in our wealthy society, economic downturns reduce exposure to risks such as drinking, smoking, obesity, driving to work, and exposure to infectious disease and work-related stress even as stress increases in other ways.  However, previous US recessions have not been as severe or widespread as the current downturn. The impact of the current economic recession may well reach a tipping point where the gains from reductions in lifestyle risk are offset by increased illness and death.

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Sunday.  A leisurely start to the day.  Late breakfast.  What do do?  Go for a ride in the mountains on the motorcycle?  No.  Joss is in Africa, and Bruno, (our dog), hasn't been on a good walk in over a week.  Off we go bumping up a forest road to a trailhead where we've walked before.  Park the van in the grass, and debate whether I need a hat or not.  Nah!  It's alpine here, with plenty of shade.  The first half of this trail is all uphill.  Huff.... Puff....  Man, I've got to stop blogging and get some exercise 'cause I'm well and truly out of shape.  Twists and turns, with Bruno leading the way.  Listening to my Ipod.  Rockin' out in the woods.  Cool.  Bruno appears briefly as I round each turn, before disappearing around the next bend.  He's a great dog.  Always comes when called.  He'll sit outside the house without being tied up and quietly observe the neighborhood cars and characters coming and going.  Now he's not there when I round the next bend.  Hmmm...  Not worried.  He always comes back to check if he loses you for very long.  The next bend in the trail comes and goes with no sign of the hound.  And the next.  And the next.  And the next.  I pick up my pace and call his name.  He should be coming back to meet me any second.  But he doesn't.  Earphones out.  Ipod off.  Serious shout:  "Bruno!".  That should get his attention.  Again, no sign of him.  I start shouting in multiple directions to no avail.  He does like to chase game.  I continue up the trail calling his name fervently.  Now frantically.  This has never happened before.  I start constructing scenarios that might explain this.  There's always a dark scenario.  Perhaps we're wired to arrive at the darkness first, then try to claw our way back to the light.  There are bears and bull elk in these woods.  What if he picked the wrong critter to chase this time.  While I was rocking out, he could have chased off after something that was more than his match.  The forest sounds are all around me.  I think I hear a whimper.  Of a dog.  I strike off the path in its' direction.  Is it a whimper?  Or a bird?  I continue my search to no avail.  Eventually I spy the bird I mistook for a canine's cry of pain.  Back to the path.  I begin a methodical scout of the trail for signs of dog claws digging into the surrounding loam, as he might have done as he struck out after whatever he pursued.  Calling his name every 20-40 seconds. Nothing.  Repeat.  Nothing.  I make sure to get within hailing distance of the van on two of these circuits, and shout his name, to no avail.  My voice is getting hoarse now.  I continue along the trail beyond where I lost him.  Soon the trail crosses another road.  Another dark one enters my mind.  Could he have been that far ahead that he arrived here at this other trail head parking area well before me?  Could someone have taken him as I was back calling his name back on the trail?  It dawns on me that we never put his collar back on him following his bath the day before Joss left for the, say it! Dark continent.  A convertible approaches on the maintained forest road.  I flag down the couple and ask if they've seen a golden/chow mix.  They haven't but take my number just in case.   I decide to hightail it back to the van and scout the area in it, stopping to call his name every few hundred yards.  On the walk back I'm calling his name in the off hope he has returned from a wild goose chase.  And I'm making a list of the sequence of actions i have to initiate tonight.  Contact the SPCA.  The Forest Service.  The local paper and the weekly advertiser in order to run ads.  Print flyers with Bruno's picture and staple them around the mountain towns in this area.  And I'm trying to compose an explanation to Joss.  How I lost the greatest dog in the world.  This upon her return from a three week vacation to Europe and Africa.  Welcome home babe!  Ouch!  This is gonna kill her even more than it is me, and I'm quite truthfully frantic.  Getting close to the van now.  "Bruno!!!"  I've got a bass/baritone that can be heard for half a mile.  Nothing.  The van's in sight now, and he's not there.  I'm dying.  One last cry: "Bruno!!!!".  From around the shady front of the van the hound that put me through hell comes running.  My heart lifts with joy and relief, as I launch into a stern diatribe, explaining what he has put me through, as he comes and sits in front of me.  At my feet.  Head hung low.  I hold his head in my hands and continue describing the horrors I had imagined in a soft, yet stern voice.  Then he gets a kiss on his head and he bounds off towards the van.  That's how I spent my afternoon.  What did you do?