An old acquaintance recently commented (in response to one of my mini-tirades) that it was the pain of a compressed nerve that was triggering my descent into political argumentation.

Normally, that assessment would be perfectly backwards.

But not today: this morning I dragged my busted ass out of bed, got dressed, cleaned the snow off the car, and drove to Lawrence Hospital in Bronxville. I staggered up to Radiology and requested a copy of my MRI images.

Why did I have to do this in person? Why couldn't I call ahead or ask Alane to pick these up? Because politicians respond reflexively to the "don't just stand there, do something" mob -- and they recently passed the HIPAA Permanent Medical Bureaucracy Act.

Yeah, I know I there are ways to do these things without having to show up in person. But I'm a lawyer who hates paperwork (which, in a nutshell, explains why I don't practice law). And what forms am I supposed to use? Who knows. And what if the forms are for whatever reason rejected? I don't have time for red-tape delays.

Big Kahuna runs into this nonsense all the time. At least his files are safe from access. By him. Or his RN wife. Or by needed specialists.

Vote libertarian. In the meantime, I gotta haul my ass back to Bronxville to pick up the films I just ordered.