A fellow at church told me last month that his medicine costs him more than his groceries. He said it plainly, without complaint, the way a man mentions the weather. I have been thinking about him ever since, and I want to say something that may not be popular. I think he is lucky.
Not lucky to be sick. Nobody would wish that on him. Lucky that there is a medicine at all. I expect that not so long ago a man in his condition would have had no bottle to buy and no bill to grumble about. Somebody, somewhere, worked very hard to change that. When I hear people complain about the price, I hear people who have forgotten to say thank you.
I will be honest about something. I do not know what that medicine costs, and I have never wanted to know. It seems to me that the moment you start studying the price of a gift, it stops being a gift and becomes a transaction. I would rather keep it a gift in my own mind. It lets me feel the right way about the people who make it.
My uncle built barns for a living. He set his own prices, and nobody ever told him what a barn ought to cost. If you did not like his number, you could build your own barn or go without one. That was not cruelty. That was a free man running his own business, and the people who hired him respected him for it. I see the companies that make our medicine the same way. They built the barn. They get to name the price.
People ask me who ought to decide what a lifesaving medicine should cost. I tell them the people who made it, the same as anything else. They have earned it. As I understand it, they took the risk, they hired the scientists and they waited a long time for the work to pay. If the price seems high, I would say that is a measure of how much the medicine is worth, and what it is worth is a man’s life. You cannot put a fair price on that, so I do not see why anyone should try.
My friend at church has started cutting back on other things. He says he eats simpler now and drives less. He has not once blamed anybody, and I admire him for it. A grateful heart does not keep accounts. He gives thanks for the medicine every morning, and so do I, on his behalf.
There is a lot of talk this year about what the government should do about the cost of things. I would only say this. Before we start telling people what they can charge for a miracle, we should stop and remember it was a miracle.
That is why my vote this fall goes to the Republican for Senate. As near as I can tell, the other fellow wants to put a cap on what a man pays for his medicine, and I would hate to see my friend’s mornings grow any less grateful.
I have never needed the medicine myself. I suppose that makes the gratitude easier.
D. M.