#I remain incapable of remembering most pitchers

[empyrean11]

Only just occurred to me to look at minor league transactions, along with the Jays.

Some of my guys are free agents. Hopefully they re-sign Lanti and Max and Pardinho (how will Roden find his way to the ballpark, alone, without his ever present buddy?!)

Lanti was a FA last year too, so I guess this is just something that they do.

[megaphonemonday]

lose inhibitions/give exhibitions

JustSimplyMe: Ginny getting roofied at a club and Protective!Mike.

Okay, so I tweaked this a little bit, because roofies make me really squeamish, but I think this is still in keeping with what you wanted

read it on ao3

Something strange is going on. 

Mike’s not sure if it’s been like this all night or if it only started recently. He should’ve been watching more closely, should’ve known the minute that something shifted. It doesn��t matter that he’s spent most of the evening within arm’s reach, he still should’ve known. 

What should be a laid back night out with the team has got a knot of worry eating away at his gut. Because something is... not right. But he can’t put a finger on what.

Okay, he can. It’s Ginny. 

(When isn’t it Ginny?) 

He just hasn’t figured out why she’s acting so unusually and it’s starting to drive him crazy.

She’s not sloppy. In fact, Mike doesn’t think he’s ever seen Ginny even get drunk on team outings. Tipsy, yes, but rarely drunk. She tends to keep such exacting control over herself. 

So, while she’s drunk more than she usually does, it's not anything to raise eyebrows. Well, anyone else’s eyebrows. But there’s definitely something different about her tonight. 

She’s... looser. Freer. 

She’s all over him. 

For her at least. It’s not like when groupies sidle up to him at the bar, flirting and asking for a selfie, tossing their hair and pressing their breasts into his arm or back. That’s not Ginny’s style and if she’d been doing it, Mike definitely would have caught on faster. 

The problem is, none of what Ginny’s doing is that different from how they usually are with each other. 

She’s just been touching him slightly more than usual: letting her hand linger on the waistband of his jeans as she slides by him at the bar, leaning her head against his shoulder as she laughs at their teammates for a breath longer than usual, twining her fingers through his beneath the table. 

And the staring. It feels like Ginny’s attention hasn’t wavered from him all night. 

Which is probably a good thing because if Ginny’d touched anyone else half as much as she’d been touching Mike, there would’ve been problems. 

(Problems that Mike would’ve dealt with by ordering a double bourbon and sulking, but still problems.)

What should be a celebration, even a slightly bittersweet one, has been overshadowed by Mike overthinking what the hell is going on in Ginny’s head. There’s part of him that hopes her sudden need to be as close as possible is tied to the press release his agent put out this morning: Mike Lawson’s hanging up his mask at the end of the season. 

Even if it’s not true, he wants answers. And unfortunately, there’s really only one place for him to turn.

“Anyone know how much she’s had to drink?”

There are shrugs and rolled eyes all around. Nanny Lawson at it again. 

“You weren’t counting?” Dusty jokes, turning back to the table. 

Mike won’t dignify that with a response. Because they’ll definitely make fun of him if he does. 

It’s not until Salvi says, “Didn’t someone buy her a drink, though? When Mike dropped the guard dog routine for a minute to take a leak?” that Mike really starts to worry. 

(Worries so much, in fact, that he misses the consensus that, yes, it had happened, but, no, Ginny hadn’t accepted. He also misses the shared looks of amused disbelief as he heads off to find the pitcher, expression stormy.)

What had he missed? Some creep hitting on her and Ginny just needed a little physical reassurance to get over it? Unlikely. It was far more believable that she’d put anyone trying to pressure her in their place without any kind of assistance. And Mike’s sure that he would’ve heard if she’d started a brawl. 

Mike’s still puzzling it out, turning it over in his head. She really hasn’t been drinking enough to explain the odd behavior. More than usual, but Ginny’s pretty good at holding her liquor. Unless—

Christ. What if someone spiked her drink? 

It makes sense: her slight spaciness and the way she’d had to lean on him to stay standing the last time they’d visited the bar. 

She’d never gone to college, probably never learned how to watch her drink. It probably never even occurred to her to worry about it. 

Mike sees red at the mere thought, wants to haul the bartender over the scarred oak bar and demand who ordered that drink for her, but he manages to take a breath. Maybe it’s not even true. And anyway, it doesn’t help anyone, but especially Ginny, if he loses his cool right now. Before he gets her out of here. 

The fact that once she’s safe, he can come back and tear the place apart with his bare hands goes unsaid. 

Feeling marginally better, he seeks out Ginny almost unconsciously. Thankfully, she’s exactly where he left her: leaning up against Blip and Sonny, pouting slightly. 

She catches him looking and lights up.

“Mike!” she cheers, tipping against Sonny, who pushes her gingerly back to Blip. The outfielder rolls his eyes, but takes Ginny’s weight easily enough, not that she notices. She waves him over and Mike goes. Not just because she’s potentially been drugged, but because he’s incapable of not bending to her every whim. 

Once he’s close enough, Ginny shakes off Blip’s support and twirls into Mike’s arms. He catches her readily, frowning at how much she has to lean on him to stay upright. 

“You finally gonna dance with me, old man?”

She’s pouting, which is the only reason he spins her around, only stopping when she stumbles and has to grab his shoulders to remain on her feet. He sends Blip a concerned look and gets a frown in response. 

Loudly, not just for Ginny’s sake, he announces, “I think it’s about time we get this show on the road.” 

His assessment receives mixed reviews from both his teammates and their various hangers on. Whatever. The guys can handle not shutting down the bar for once in their lives. 

The loudest dissension, though, comes from Ginny herself. 

“You’re gonna leave, now?” she demands, incredulous. Her fingers tighten on his shoulders like she’s preparing herself to physically bar him from going.

The rest of the team leaves them to it, either to go home themselves or avoid another episode of the Ginny and Mike Show. 

Not that either of its leading characters really notice. 

“We gotta get you home, Gin,” he murmurs, gentler than he would be otherwise. Ordinarily, he’d tease her into agreeing with him, but it seems unlikely that she’s going to remember this in the morning. He tucks a stray curl behind her ear and does his best not to let himself linger. 

(Not that his best is all that good. Not when it comes to this.)

She grins, soft and bright. Her head tilts and god damn it, she looks fucking adorable, but she’s high out of her mind. “Oh, really?” she asks, practically a purr. 

Mike swallows and ignores the way she’s looking at him, hates that it’s just the product of some drug she didn’t want or take for herself. “Yeah. Night’s over.”

Something like confusion passes over her face and she burrows closer to his side. When he tucks his arm around her shoulder, more protective than because he likes the way it feels (and God does he like the way it feels), and starts steering her to the door, though, it passes and she sighs happily. 

“Yeah, let’s get outta here,” she murmurs, her arm curling around his back and fingers inching under his shirt to hook into a belt loop.

Somehow, Mike manages to pour/lift Ginny into the passenger’s seat of his truck—suddenly the woman is part octopus, all clinging limbs—and drives her back to the condo she calls home. Though the thought of directing his car back to his house crosses his mind, Mike blots it out quickly. The idea of Ginny in his house is one he doesn’t want compromised by the fact she’s only there because some asshole was trying to take advantage of her. 

Just thinking about it makes his hands curl around the steering wheel, knuckles going white with the strength of his grip. Ginny doesn’t seem to notice, fiddling with the radio and humming along once she finds a song she likes. He’s a little surprised that she hasn’t passed out, but there’s always a chance that whatever got slipped into her drink wasn’t the average roofie. His mind tries to cycle through other possibilities, though it’s not as if he’s at all familiar with that kind of drug. 

He pushes the whirring thoughts from his head in favor of getting Ginny safely home. It’s not such a hard task when Mike concentrates on the tuneless, if contented, humming coming from the passenger seat. He lets her lull him into the easy rhythm of muscle memory (easier with the reminder that she’s fine and nothing happened), navigating San Diego’s late night traffic on auto pilot. 

It’s only the catch of her door releasing and the flare of the overhead light that knocks him out of his stupor. In a flash, he’s out of the car and jogging around the front to give Ginny a hand. For her part, she’s remarkably steady on her feet, but still takes the offered support. 

He leads her up to her door, watching as she fumbles her keys. Ginny giggles a little, leaning on him as her usually able and agile fingers fail to get the right key, once she finds it, into the lock. 

Mike doesn’t tease the way he usually would, too worried about whatever is working its way through his system to come up with a good joke, but he does gently extricate her keyring from her grasp to open the door himself. 

Ginny turns up to him, grinning. “Taking charge, captain? I think I like that.”

Mike rolls his eyes to keep himself from taking her words seriously. “Goodnight, Ginny,” he says instead, already taking a step back.

“Aren’t you coming in?” she pouts, stopping him in his tracks.

Mike’s conflicted. On the one hand, he needs to be far far away if Ginny’s going to keep looking up at him through her eyelashes and biting her lip. On the other, he’s going to feel awful just leaving her here to wake up confused and potentially scared in the morning. And right now, making sure that Ginny’s okay absolutely trumps driving back to the bar and tracking down the piece of shit that did this to her. 

He takes a deep breath, reminds himself that nothing happened and Ginny is safely back at home, before nodding. 

“Give me the tour, rook.”

This isn’t the first time he’s been to her condo. Though, the extravagant housewarming that Evelyn and Amelia had orchestrated hadn’t given him much opportunity to explore beyond the state-of-the-art kitchen, well decorated living room, and back deck. Mike had ducked into the powder room to splash water on his face when the sight of Ginny leaning on the kitchen island, head tipped back in laughter, had devolved into a long, inappropriate train of thought all about other scenarios that involved Ginny bent over that counter. 

Mike’s got a feeling that powder room won’t be making the tour tonight.

Not with the way she’s grinning at him, hardly even bothering to turn on the lights as she leads him up the stairs to her lofted bedroom. 

With every step he climbs, Mike tries to tell himself that he’s just going to make sure she gets into bed, has a trashcan and a supply of aspirin handy for when she wakes up. Every time he manages to get himself halfway convinced, though, Ginny turns back and smiles at him. And when her grin makes his heart beat faster, he forcibly reminds himself of what an awful fucking excuse for a man he’d be if he does anything to act on the way he feels. 

Eventually, though, they make it to the top of the stairs. 

Mike’s somewhat relieved to find a little sitting area, a neglected desk in the corner, that forms something of a pause between the landing and her bedroom. If he’d stepped right into the intimacy of Ginny Baker’s bedroom, it would have been so much harder to stand firm. Sure, he can still see her messily made bed from here, but he can probably convince himself that this space still qualifies as a public area. It’s just an extra place to hang out with friends. It’s not weird that he’s here. Not at all. Just as long as he doesn't go any further, everything will be fine.

Ginny, however, is less content with him staying put. 

She grabs his wrist and tugs, pouting a little when he digs in his heels. Strong as she is, she’s still drunk and high off of God knows what. There’s no way she’ll get him to take one more step. 

“Nice place,” he observes, trying to keep his tone neutral as he pretends there isn't a pouting pitcher latched onto his arm, doing her damnedest to get him into her bedroom. 

Why couldn’t she have just passed out? Sure, it would’ve been a pain to haul her up here, but it would’ve been worth it for how easily he could’ve gotten her tucked into bed. He’d get her settled and then be out the door (or more likely, camped out on her sofa downstairs so he could check and make sure she hadn’t choked on her own vomit in the middle of the night) without any fuss. 

But he’s pretty sure a fuss is what he’s going to get. 

Ginny finally stops pulling at him, having finally realized that he’s staying put. Instead, she peers up at him through her eyelashes, head cocked to the side. “It is,” she agrees, leaning into him as she’s been all night. Her hands fall away from his wrist, but before Mike can feel relieved, they settle on his hips, fingers weaving into the belt loops there. “But it’s hard to appreciate from so far away.”

Mike, God help him, stares intently down at the bold seductress that’s taken over Ginny. His jaw works side to side, but he can’t come up with a good response. There’s no way he’ll regret not giving in, not when the alternative is fundamentally betraying the trust he and Ginny have built, but he’s also sure the way she licks her lips and her gaze falls to his is going to haunt him for the rest of his natural life.

Before she can lean in even more, Mike finally finds his voice.

“Ginny, we can’t.”

She frowns, pulling away slightly. The little pucker in her brow would be adorable if it weren’t for the flash of hurt in her eyes. “Why not?”

“Because we’re still teammates,” he reminds her, gentle. No need to freak her out and tell her that someone spiked her drink. 

“But you’re retiring.”

“Yeah. At the end of the season.”

Ginny smiles at that, sidling back into him. Her fingers tangle in his belt loops again, anchoring their hips together. She takes a few step backwards, and Mike mindlessly follows before realizing how much closer her bed suddenly is. 

“Maybe I don’t want to wait for the end of the season.” 

Her face tilts up to him and it’s all Mike can do not to lean down and finally find out what she tastes like. He groans, disengaging her fingers from his jeans, and pulls away. 

“We can’t do this.”

Ginny doesn’t follow him, but her arms come up to wrap around herself. “You already said that,” she says hollowly.

A hand scrubs over his face and Mike sighs, “I know,” slumping as he realizes how hurt she is. 

“Why did you follow me up here, then?” she demands, a lick of anger overriding her lost confusion.

“Because you asked me to.”

It’s obviously more complex than that, but it all boils down to the same fact: Mike would do just about anything for Ginny. To protect her, keep her safe, make her happy. 

“Well, now I’m asking you to kiss me.”

Mike swallows, but still has to answer, “I can’t,” around the lump in his throat.

Ginny’s face falls. If she’d been sober, Mike’s sure that she would’ve done a better job of hiding the dismay. Then again, if she’d been sober, he wouldn’t have to keep her at arm’s length right now. They’d both probably be making themselves very at home in that bed of hers. 

But she’s not, so she also doesn’t manage to hold her tongue.

“Don’t you want me? Did you change your mind?”

Her chin wobbles, but there’s no sign of tears. Not that that makes Mike feel any less wretched. 

In a heartbeat, he’s back in her orbit, gathering a slightly resistant Ginny into his arms. She only relaxes when he admits, “Of course I want you.” It comes out huskier, more raw, than he intended. But this is the first time he’s told Ginny about his feelings for her in so many words. 

In any words, even. 

“Then why keep saying we can’t?” She sniffles a little into his shirt.

“Because I need to know it’s you who wants this and not whatever you’ve had tonight.”

Immediately, a switch flips and the tears disappear. Indignantly, Ginny rears back, jabbing him in the chest with a long finger. 

“I’m not drunk!”

“Gin—”

“Fine. Maybe I’m a little tipsy, but—”

“It’s not just that.”

She frowns, her lower lip jutting adorably towards him, though she’s clearly still annoyed. “Then what?”

“I think someone slipped something in your drink.” It’s out of his mouth before he can stop it. He wants to kick himself. Ginny’s already emotional, he doesn’t need to layer panic and anxiety on top of whatever she’s feeling. 

Rather than panic, though, her frown deepens as she processes the information. “You think someone spiked my drink at the bar?” she checks.

Mike just nods, unsure of whether or not he needs to brace himself. 

He does. Just not in the way that he’d thought.

Because rather than freaking out or yelling or withdrawing completely, Ginny laughs. 

Full on, gut busting, full-throated gales of laughter.

“Ginny, stop laughing,” he practically begs, at a complete loss. “It’s not funny.”

She complies, though a few giggles manage to burst through the calm she tries to affect. Finally, though, she manages to look up at him with a mostly straight face.

“It is, though,” she replies, smiling in the face of his confused frown. The way her hands lay flat against his chest helps soothe the sting of her abject amusement, at least. “Mike, you watch my drinks better than I do. When would someone have had a chance to spike one?”

“What about the guy who bought you a drink while I was in the bathroom?” he counters a little too triumphantly.

Her brow furrows again. “The drink I didn’t take? I’m pretty sure even the strongest roofie can’t affect someone who doesn’t drink it.”

“You didn’t drink it?”

“Nope,” she responds, the word popping off her lips. Her hands slide over his shoulders to the back of his neck, fingers gently carding through the hair there. “Only one guy bought me drinks tonight, and would you look at that? I went home with him.”

There’s not much Mike can do in the face of Ginny’s goofy grin other than grin back. Gingerly, as if he’s waiting for her to come to her senses, his own arms wrap more firmly around her. Ginny doesn’t protest, just slides even closer with a happy little hum. 

Mike’s lost track of the number of times that Ginny’s tilted her face up to him and rocked forward tonight, but she does it again. Not that her lips find their intended target. He turns his face at the last moment and her mouth connects with his bearded cheek. 

She pulls away with an exasperated huff. 

Sheepishly, he explains, “You’re still drunk.”

Ginny doesn't even bother to argue, which he appreciates. “Would you feel better if we slept on it?” she asks, her grin and the tilt of her head giving away just how indulgent she’s feeling. 

Mike rolls his eyes. It would, though.

That’s apparently more than enough answer for Ginny, who unwinds her arms from around his neck and takes a step back. Mike takes a deep breath and takes a backwards step of his own, heading for the stairs. Before he can take another, though, her incredulous voice stops him. 

“Where are you going?”

“Home. So we can sleep on this.”

“Stay.”

“Gin—”

“Listen,” she interrupts, sounding entirely sure of herself. “You’re already making me wait longer than I want, even if I understand why. But don’t think that I’m also going to wait for you to drive your ass over here after I wake up tomorrow morning and repeat this conversation back to you. Okay?”

Mouth twitching in the face of her annoyance, he nods.

But Ginny apparently isn’t done.

“And I know this won’t change your mind and you’ll probably ask if I meant this at least four times tomorrow morning, but I’m going to say it anyway.”

She swallows, a look of determination that Mike is all too familiar with crossing her features.

“I don’t want to wait for the season to end to be with you. We have been waiting so long already. I know a few months aren’t going to change the way I feel about you, but I’m ready to be happy now. And I am so, so sure that you’re going to make me happy.”

She pauses for a long moment to stare him down, to make sure that he’s paying attention. Mike is sure, no matter what comes next, he’ll never forget a single moment of Ginny telling him that he’ll make her happy. What could top that? 

Of course, he thought too soon because Ginny wasn’t done bowling him over.

“Because I love you, old man. Even when you’re crabby and make me give up the window seat on the plane. Even when you won’t shut up about your glory days. Even when you’re so protective you make up a drug scare just so you have a reason to take care of me. I love you.”

Speechless for once in his life, all Mike can do is cross the space between them, take Ginny’s hand, and press a tender kiss to her palm. He looks into her eyes as he does, trying to convey just how much he is with her. How much he loves her, too.

Much as he wants to kiss her, wants to sweep her into his arms and show her how deep his love for her goes, he knows he needs to wait. Just one night, to make sure that this isn’t some drug-fueled confession that she’ll walk back tomorrow. He doesn’t think it is, doesn’t think that any drug could mimic the vulnerability and honesty shining out of Ginny’s perfect face, but he needs to know. 

And Ginny, thankfully, understands.

She smiles, tangling her fingers with his as she pulls him towards her bed.

Once they’re both settled in, the lights out and curled intimately around one another, Mike lets himself think about how much he hopes she’s right. About being happy now rather than waiting. About being the one who can make that true for her. 

He wants that future so badly he can taste it. 

The last coherent thought he has before drifting off is that there are worse things in life than being in love with someone who’s right about everything. 

(Maybe not everything. In the morning, he only asks if she’d been serious three times before finally giving in and kissing her, slipping an “I love you,” into every breath and pause.)

[a-wandering-fool]

From the article:

====================================

Nothing is being repealed or replaced. At least not yet.

Thursday, Senate Republicans finally unveiled their version of the American Health Care Act (AHCA). It’s almost as much of a stinker as its House counterpart.

If you were hoping the GOP would make good on their promise to repeal and replace Obamacare, then I have some disappointing news: the latest Republican health insurance brainchild does neither.

As we discussed when dissecting the unimpressive House AHCA, the Senate GOP bill is also limited in what it can accomplish for one reason — reconciliation. Senate Republicans are relying on the budget reconciliation mechanism to pass their first health care overhaul with a simple majority vote.

What’s in the bill?

Take Obamacare, pour it in a pitcher, dilute generously and you’ve got the Senate’s GOP health care bill. Consensus here (at least on the right) is that the latest “repeal” bill is Obamacare-lite, wholly unsatisfying.

Indidvidual mandate stays, sort of

Granted, the penalty would be reduced to $0. Many are reporting this as elimination. As far as we’re concerned, so long as the language remains, the opportunity for the mandate to be reinstated does too.

Tax Credits

Different from the House bill, the Senate bill moves tax credits from age-based to income-based.

From WaEx:

First, its proposed tax credits would vary with income and subsidize coverage for people making up to 3.5 times the poverty level, or about $86,000 for a family of four starting in 2020.

This scheme is virtually no different than Obamacare’s, which provided tax credits to people making up to four times the poverty level — about $98,000 for a family of four.

The House’s American Health Care Act offered tax credits that vary by age— a suitable proxy for how much it actually costs to insure someone. That’s a far better approach — one that could actually help control health costs.

Medicaid Expansion will be phased out…eventually…if we have a President and Congress who chooses not to reverse the policy in 2020 and 2024

Just keep kicking the can down the never-ending road to insolvency.

Back to WaEx:

The Senate bill preserves Obamacare’s expansion of Medicaid to those making up to 138 percent of the poverty level for at least three more years — and potentially more than that. Starting in 2021, it would pare back federal funding for this group. And in 2025, the bill would ratchet down the growth rate for Medicaid spending to the rate of inflation.

Of course, those cuts may never take effect. Republicans will need to keep the White House in 2020 to ensure the Medicaid expansion ends. And they’ll need to ensure that they win in 2024 in order to enact their reforms to the program’s growth rate.

Moderate Republicans in both the Senate and in governor’s mansions across the country are already unenthused about any cuts to Medicaid. Delaying these reforms is not that far from doing nothing at all.

Planned Parenthood funding

The Senate Bill issues a one year Medicaid suspension for America’s premier abortion provider. Further, the bill disallows the small employer health insurance expense credit for plans that include vanity abortion coverage (with exclusions to life of the mother, rape, and incest).

General framework

Reason‘s Peter Suderman has the best analysis here:

To understand the Senate plan, it helps to recall Obamacare’s underlying framework. The centerpiece of the law was a reform of the individual market, intended to give those who do not get coverage through work or a federal program access to subsidized, regulated coverage. The law created a new federal subsidy, based on income, for lower- and middle-income households to purchase health insurance. It set up federal rules requiring insurers to sell to all comers while limiting their ability to charge based on health history. It mandated that all individuals obtain health coverage or pay a tax penalty. And it erected a system of government-run health insurance exchanges on which consumers could purchase subsidized, regulated individual market coverage.

Those exchanges have never been fully stable as either business or policy propositions. Premiums have marched steadily upwards; last year, the price of a typical plan rose by 22 percent, and early reports show large spikes coming this year as well. The non-profit health insurance organizations that Obamacare funded have mostly shut down. Large, for-profit health insurers, meanwhile, have lost money and either scaled back their participation or dropped out entirely.

…

The way it does this is by authorizing additional payments known as cost-sharing reduction (CSR) subsidies to insurers through 2019. It also authorizes the back payment of any CSR subsidies that insurers have not recieved. On this front, it is actually an expansion of Obamacare, and it is a revealing sign of the shallowness of Republican thinking on health care policy.

The Obama administration initially requested congressional authorization to make the CSR payments, which are called for in Obamacare, but not explicitly appropriated. The House did not provide it. The administration then paid them anyway, believing that the exchanges would collapse without them. In response, House Republicans sued, arguing that only Congress has the power to appropriate funds. A federal judge agreed that the Obama administration was violating the constitutional separation of powers. The Trump administration has continued making the payments while threatening to withhold them, adding to the uncertainty for insurers operating in the exchanges.

Now Senate Republicans are proposing to explicitly authorize those payments for the first time. That means they are proposing to explicitly authorize and continue the very policy their House colleagues took the previous administration to court for pursuing. It amounts to an expansion of Obamacare, and while it may reduce uncertainty in some markets, it is unlikely to halt premium increases or fully stabilize the exchanges, which were degrading even before Trump threatened to withhold the payments.

There’s little reason to believe we’ll ever be rid of Obamacare

Again, this is only an initial effort designed to make it over the reconciliation hurdle, but as Suderman points out, Republicans seem incapable of thinking beyond the existing Obamacare framework to better free-market solutions.

Four Conservative Senators Will Not Vote for Bill in its Current Version

With little substantive change to the pillars of Obamacare, it’s not entirely surprising the conservative Senate contingent is unhappy.

Sens. Ted Cruz, Ron Johnson, Mike Lee, and Rand Paul said Thursday they’re unwilling to suppor the bill in its current form.

From Sen. Cruz:

“While I have not yet had the opportunity to fully review the draft legislative text itself, there are components that give me encouragement and there are also components that are a cause for deep concern.

“I am encouraged that the bill would expand association health plans, so those in individual or small group markets can join together in large groups to get lower rates. I am also pleased that the bill would make at least some progress in reining in the long-term growth of Medicaid. These are two inclusions that I have been fighting for since the beginning of our discussions. Finally, I am glad that this retains the provisions previously passed by Congress to prevent taxpayer dollars from funding organizations that perform abortions.

“However, as currently drafted, this bill draft does not do nearly enough to lower premiums. That should be the central issue for Republicans – repealing Obamacare and making healthcare more affordable. Because of this, I cannot support it as currently drafted, and I do not believe it has the votes to pass the Senate.

“But it is important to remember that what was released today was only a draft. I am hopeful that as we openly debate this legislation, real improvements will be made prior to floor consideration so that we can pass a bill that provides the relief from Obamacare that Republicans have repeatedly promised the last seven years.

“Specifically, we should do more to ensure consumers have the freedom to choose among more affordable plans that are tailored for their individual healthcare needs. We should allow consumers to purchase insurance across state lines and create a true 50-state marketplace, driving down costs for everyone. We should expand health savings accounts so that consumers can pay health insurance premiums on a pre-tax basis. We should incentivize states to cap punitive damages in medical malpractice lawsuits to further reduce the cost of healthcare.

“Finally, we should provide real flexibility for Medicaid, so states can design creative and innovative ways to provide care for our most vulnerable. I have strongly advocated for these proposals to this point and will continue to do so going forward.

Cruz concluded by saying he hopes the Senate can negotiate to a “yes”.

From Sen. Paul, who takes particular issue with the subsidies to insurance companies, but appreciates the bill’s allowance of cross-state co-ops:

https://twitter.com/TeamCavuto/status/877993552369913856

Paul noted this bill is not President Trump’s bill or what he campaigned on.

Full text of bill here:

Senate GOP Health Care Bill by Legal Insurrection on Scribd

================================================

moral of the story.... 

"You can put lipstick on a pig, but it's still a pig,"