Paul Ryan’s healthcare bill had stomach pains all morning. The bill was uninsured so when it arrived at the emergency room to seek treatment, it was sent home and told to take ibuprofen.
Without proper medication, the bill’s condition spun out of control. Vomiting blood and writhing in pain, two GOP bystanders called 911. The responding dispatchers insisted that it wasn’t an emergency because if it was, the house republican leaders would have treated the bill during its first visit to the ER.
Paul Ryan held the bill in its hospital bed, tubes sticking out of its bindings and cover page. Staff at the hospital in Washington DC had just taken the bill off life support after a majority of republicans voiced it would be too costly to keep it alive.
“The bill’s body was tensing up, like it was hugging me goodbye,” Ryan says.
Ryan was kneeling over the bill in its coffin, eyeliner running down Ryan’s face and onto the convoluted mess no one ever truly loved except for Ryan himself.
“It was crazy because I knew it was the last time I would touch it”
“It was a very, very loving and caring bill,” said Ryan referencing the 72-page document that would allow big businesses to deny healthcare to employees and millions with preexisting conditions across the United States.
Written by Liz Donehue