The Best Medicine

            They say that laughter is often the finest remedy for what ails us. Which is why I’m thankful for Obamacare.

            Yesterday I received a monthly premium statement from my health insurer, ConnectiCare. My monthly premium went up $520 from what I had been paying for the past few years, even though the plan itself has not changed and even though neither my wife nor I, thank heaven, have needed any major healthcare services. We never abuse the system and we always pay on time. 

            But there it is: $520 more each month. Does that make any sense? I can no longer afford the premium. After a few months I would have negative monthly cash flow, and after about a year I’d be broke.

            So I called up ConnectiCare to inquire. They said that their company must now meet certain requirements they didn’t need to meet before in order to be able to cover things like maternity care and pediatric care. I mentioned that my children are grown and that I’m not planning on having any more. They said that didn’t matter, that every policyholder has to do his or her part to enable the company to provide coverage for everyone. But $520 more? Every month? In excess of $6,240 more each year, on top of the $13,000 I already pay annually.

            “Why?” I asked. “Where does this obscene requirement come from?”

            Their response:

            “It’s part of the Affordable Care Act.”