Why are we talking about rape as a preexisting condition?

Rape is a preexisting condition under the AHCA. Or is it?

Those two sentences sum up the most flashy coverage about what the US House of Representatives did yesterday. Both inaccurately oversimplify the issue, though. This is an important conversation, and we deserve more nuance than soundbites in our discussions of this (and every other policy issue, for that matter). 

The ACA - aka Obamacare - let me breathe deeply, knowing that my odd collection of health conditions no longer made me uninsurable, either because companies would reject me or because they would price me out of coverage. The AHCA - aka Trumpcare - weakens those Obamacare protections. This is all true.

Neither bill includes a list of preexisting conditions, though. Neither says, for example, rheumatoid arthritis - which I have - is a red flag. Obamacare, however, guaranteed that it wouldn't be. No insurance company could reject me or increase my rates for that sort of diagnosis. Meanwhile, Trumpcare would let states make their own decisions on hiking up costs for those people who already have the highest medical costs. 

And rape survivors? Well, here's what I tweeted about that earlier today...



































































Deep breaths. That was a lot to tweet before my morning coffee, and it's a lot to re-read now.

But why are we focusing on rape as a preexisting condition anyway? 

The honest answer? This whole topic is theater. It had to be. Somewhere along the way, we stopped reacting with dismay that we might be a country that denies affordable healthcare to a mom with rheumatoid arthritis or children with epilepsy, cerebral palsy, HIV, anxiety, ADHD, asthma, autism, or congenital heart defects, all conditions represented in our family picture. 

Quite frankly, hearing about another sick kid needing a GoFundMe to live is too common of a story to move our hearts if it's not our kid. (But maybe, just maybe, we will care when it's Jimmy Kimmel's kid.)

So we have to go to the extreme. We have to perform a new pain. We have to dig up Boston Globe stories from the healthcare reform days back in the 1990s about domestic abuse victims being denied health insurance. (While this is theater, it isn't fiction; more on this is documented in a book from the Department of Justice.) 

Is the concern about insurance coverage for rape survivors real? Yes.

But I'd say the greater concern is for our collective humanity, when the most extreme examples are the only ones that compel us to care anymore.