U.S. bombs detonate abroad, while in Kansas silent explosions threaten healthcare access
A plume of smoke rises after an explosion on Feb. 28, 2026 in Tehran, Iran. (Getty photo)
Our latest job at home has been cleaning landscape rock. Ten-plus years accumulating blown-in dirt and weeds had converted a soothing, smooth, colorful, rocky mini-plain into a mini-jungle. Hundreds of dirt-rock shovel loads later, washed clean with a friend’s rock-washing screen, the place glistens, eager for new plantings.
My back moaned at me, but I silenced it by giving it a temporary break — the secret weapon of the retired. Restoring something to its previous aesthetic and practical beauty feels satisfying after so many years. Despite the hard work, I do it for the beauty. I do it for myself and for others. I do it, in a way, to be hospitable.
While my back and I enjoyed a temporary reprieve, I reviewed the day’s news. A short video from a trusted source showed up.
“You can’t unsee this,” they said.
They were right.
What couldn’t I unsee? Hospitals. Hospitals in Gaza, Lebanon and Iran before and after bombing. Blown to bits by the United States and Israel, mostly paid for by our tax dollars. Places of shelter and sanctuary, blown apart. Hope, shredded by shrapnel. Bodies buried under codified collateral damage. Concrete rubble out of which twist former hospital beds. Splattered splints and battered bandages.
In Iran, 338 hospitals and health facilities have been hit. In Gaza, 94% of hospitals were damaged or destroyed. In Lebanon, 77 patients and health workers were killed, with 177 injured.
Who does this? Well, President Donald Trump and his administration do. They blew, and blew up, $11.3 billion in the first six days of his Iran War. Our government has shipped $21.7 billion for Israeli weapons the last two years, under both President Joe Biden and Trump. Very bipartisan.
The video brings home the before and after. Beyond statistics, the pictures scream their thousands of words. Welcoming doors shattered into merciless, meaningless rubble. Doctors, nurses, the injured and sick aren’t pictured. They don’t have to be. They remain real. You can’t unsee, it seems, even the unseen.
We feel safe in Kansas and the US of A. We shouldn’t. Now, this administration wants more, over our potentially dead bodies. Russell Vought, budget director and an author of Project 2025, wants a further 10% cut to our health and welfare. That comes after HR1’s destruction. Think about that.
Bombs alone don’t blow away hospitals. Here at home, budget cuts are their own land-mine IEDs. Even before Vought’s threat, eight Kansas hospitals closed in the last decade. Now, 47 rural hospitals are at immediate risk — more than any other state in the nation — and 29 at high risk.
The Big, Bad, Butt-Ugly Bill (HR1) assures unending deficits of dollars and morality. Our moderate Sen. Jerry Moran voted for this $70 billion cut, then rushed to reassure everyone that a $50 billion rural health fund would give Kansas hospitals a fighting chance.
Sadly, that just ain’t true. We might feel safe in the US of A, but threats to our hospitals, our health and our very well-being are in budget bombs already exploding at home.
Nearly $1 trillion will be cut from Medicaid over the coming decade. That $50 billion bailout gives back a puny 5%.
How does that play out locally in Kansas? Check the United Methodist Health Ministry Fund report. In short: Cuts are for 10 years, the bailout fund for only five. (What could go wrong?) The total Medicaid cuts to individuals and hospitals are $6.6 billion. The combined “relief” — if it all gets here — amounts to $811 million. You do the math.
Reality suggests even that amount may not arrive. According to the report, one worst-case scenario (under inhospitable national CMS and state restrictions) would yield only $232 million.
A national Manat Health-assisted study reveals that many small community health care providers who thought they would receive help “may find they are sharing the billions with an army of corporate giants before it reaches their patients.”
A “heavy dose of prescribed spending” will go to companies that can increase the use of “electronic health records … and health system technology platforms.” How those services will help improve the health care of rural Americans “remains an open question.”
This is not just about hospitals. It’s about deep hospitality. It’s about cleaning up our act. It’s about creating and preserving safe and beautiful spaces — and lives — for everyone.
You can’t destroy your way to a better world. Our hard work to create refuges can stop their drive to make us refugees.
David Norlin is a retired Cloud County Community College teacher, where he was department chairman of communications/English, specializing in media. Through its opinion section, the Kansas Reflector works to amplify the voices of people who are affected by public policies or excluded from public debate. Find information, including how to submit your own commentary, here.