"Black lung."
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"I--uh, what?" I asked.
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"You have black lung," my doctor repeated.
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I was stunned.
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"Don't you mean I have a cold?" I offered.
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"No, what I mean is that your lungs are black and full of coal and you're going to die a slow, agonizing, painfully slow death drowning in your own fluids."
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"Jesus. Couldn't you have softened that a bit?"
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"That IS softened. Really, you're going to die in a slow and agonizing fashion, but it's also going to cost you and your family every penny you have and my children will be able to go to college and I'll own a sports car because of your illness."
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"Wow, goddamn."
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"I know, right? But it's only going to be a Porsche or something. I can't afford a Lamborghini or anything really cool."
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"But I thought that with these coal mining jobs, it'd be clean and safe and there would be more jobs for everyone..."
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"Oh, they're not safe. Regulations have been softened because it's hard to make money on a dying technology. So we don't bother with personal protection equipment or anything. And there WILL be jobs, lots of jobs. Because, as you can see, the turnover rate is about to be very high."
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"Jesus."
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"And it'll be a big thing for the surrounding hospitals, too! And, of course, for anyone living near a coal plant that will have a dying child or elderly parent in their care. Really, I just can't tell you how much good coal has done."