In the great red heartland of America, where freedom means flying a flag larger than your mortgage payment and saying “Let’s Go Brandon” before grace at dinner, the Big Beautiful Bill has officially arrived.
That’s what Republicans called it. The Big Beautiful Bill. Shiny. Patriotic. Full of cuts. Cuts to Medicaid. Cuts to food assistance. Cuts to anything that made life remotely livable in the places that vote 85% Republican every two years without fail.
Curt, Nebraska found out the hard way. On Tuesday morning, the town’s only medical clinic shut its doors. No warning. No countdown. Just a note on the glass:
“Due to changes brought by the Big Beautiful Bill, we are unable to continue operations. God bless America and good luck.”
Jerry, a 59-year-old former factory worker with two bad knees, stage 2 diabetes, and a collection of “Trump 2024: Retribution” shirts, stood outside the closed clinic with his jaw slightly dropped.
“This can’t be from the bill Trump supported,” he said out loud, even though it very much was.
His wife Tammy had already taken to Facebook to blame Biden, FEMA, Hunter’s laptop, and the town librarian, but she wasn’t fooling anyone. The Big Beautiful Bill was passed by Republicans, cheered by Republicans, and signed into law by Donald Trump himself. With a big grin. On live TV.
Inside the bill were cuts that gutted rural Medicaid access. The kind of access towns like Curt depended on for emergency care, prenatal care, mental health, prescriptions, follow-ups, and damn near everything in between. But it was a “necessary sacrifice” according to Rep. Jeb Throttle of Alabama, who authored the section eliminating rural clinic reimbursements while vacationing in Aspen.
“People need to learn to be self-reliant,” he said, after being treated for altitude sickness by a private concierge doctor flown in on request.
Back in Nebraska, 71-year-old Darlene had a harder time getting her prescriptions. She had to take a Greyhound to Lincoln. Two buses. One layover. Eight hours. All so she could pick up her heart meds. She used to walk two blocks to the clinic, chat with Nurse Patel, and be home in time for Wheel of Fortune.
“Trump said it was a beautiful bill,” she muttered. “Said we wouldn’t be hurt.”
She paused. “Maybe he meant just physically.”
The mayor called the state office. No response. County officials said their hands were tied. Meanwhile, Big Beautiful Bill signs started popping up on people’s lawns, thinking they were supporting something good. They didn’t read it. They just liked the sound of it.
Mike, a local mechanic who once held a “No Socialism” barbecue in protest of food stamps, found out his kids would no longer qualify for CHIP coverage under the same bill.
“They said it would stop the takers,” he said. “I didn’t realize they meant us.”
By the end of the week, five more rural clinics across Republican strongholds had closed. Emergency room visits surged in nearby cities. Wait times doubled. Rural patients overwhelmed urban hospitals they used to ridicule. The cycle was complete.
But the messaging never broke. MAGA forums spun it as a temporary hiccup. Trump’s campaign blamed “deep state hospital administrators.” Fox News ran a segment about how the closures were actually Biden’s fault because he didn’t “fix” the Republican law.
And in Curt, residents kept flying their flags higher, as if defiance could replace insulin.
When asked what they’d do now, Jerry said, “We’ll figure it out. We always do.”
He limped back to his truck, ignoring the loud wheeze in his chest.
He had to drive two hours to get it checked.
**This story is entirely fictional. All characters, towns, and quotes are made up. But the Big Beautiful Bill? That part is very real. And so are the consequences.**
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House Majority PAC
@HouseMajPAC
BREAKING: A rural medical clinic in Nebraska just announced it is closing due to Republicans’ expected Medicaid cuts.
