In the end, the patient didn't die. But she's not looking well, either.
Last week the Legislature compromised on General Assistance Medical Care (GAMC), a program that helps the poorest and sickest among us, cutting its budget from $400 million to $132 million, perhaps just enough to make it look like we still care.
Meanwhile, the message to strapped clinics and hospitals across the state was clear: Poor people are your responsibility.
Gov. Tim Pawlenty vetoed GAMC last year to help balance the state budget, but relented after an onslaught by the institutional forces of the medical community. If you are disenfranchised and voiceless, it's always nice to have some doctors and lawyers on your side -- you know, people with political juice.
Brian McClung, Pawlenty's spokesman, told me that no one will be cut out of health care, and that in fact they'll get better care for less money and the partisan complaints are pure rhetoric. If he's right, the governor just solved the health care problem, so consider me skeptical.
The ink was barely dry on the compromise bill, however, when many of these same people, and a few others, found themselves the target of more cuts. This time, however, they are pretty much alone.
Pawlenty is proposing to eliminate the General Assistance program and to cut state assistance to low-income families with disabled parents or children, substituting one-time emergency assistance, a program he originally unallotted, according to Deborah Schlick, executive director of the Affirmative Options Coalition.
General Assistance offers about 19,000 destitute adults with disabilities or serious illnesses $203 a month, some spare change to cover medical co-pays, bus rides and food. Instead, they could apply for emergency funds once a year.