Some days I really feel like I’d do better if I could switch jobs for a while and just go mow lawns or something. (I know… many of you have been suggesting the same thing for me for some time now.) If I made a move like that, maybe I wouldn’t find myself having to read stories like this. (Fox News)

The list of things 15-year-olds are not legally allowed to do in Oregon is long: Drive, smoke, donate blood, get a tattoo — even go to a tanning bed.

But, under a first-in-the-nation policy quietly enacted in January that many parents are only now finding out about, 15-year-olds are now allowed to get a sex-change operation. Many residents are stunned to learn they can do it without parental notification — and the state will even pay for it through its Medicaid program, the Oregon Health Plan.

“It is trespassing on the hearts, the minds, the bodies of our children,” said Lori Porter of Parents’ Rights in Education. “They’re our children. And for a decision, a life-altering decision like that to be done unbeknownst to a parent or guardian, it’s mindboggling.”

In a statement, Oregon Health Authority spokeswoman Susan Wickstrom explained it this way: “Age of medical consent varies by state. Oregon law — which applies to both Medicaid and non-Medicaid Oregonians — states that the age of medical consent is 15.”

You may be wondering at this point how the good citizens of Oregon ever voted for something like this. If there is any small sliver of comfort coming out of this story… they didn’t. The state did it on their own without notifying anyone.

While 15 is the medical age of consent in the state, the decision to cover sex-change operations specifically was made by the Health Evidence Review Commission (HERC).

Members are appointed by the governor and paid by the state of Oregon. With no public debate, HERC changed its policy to include cross-sex hormone therapy, puberty-suppressing drugs and gender-reassignment surgery as covered treatments for people with gender dysphoria, formally known as gender identity disorder.

All I can say is that as a nation, collectively, we have lost our minds. Or at a minimum we have lost our way. We simply can’t have state sponsored mutilation of children. This is beyond insanity. I happen to agree that a fifteen year old child shouldn’t be able to get a tattoo, at least without parental consent. (And really, you should wait a few years anyway.) It’s also too young to vote, which I agree with too. They should probably be able to get an aspirin if they need one, but we can discuss that later. One thing they should absolutely not be able to do is be diagnosed with “gender dysphoria” and have their genitals surgically removed or rearranged in a way which will never be able to be fully restored.

We previously talked about the story of the 10 year old “transgender” boy whose parents had found a doctor who was going to inject the child with hormones to stave off puberty. (By the way, “puberty suppressing drugs” are covered by the state in Oregon also, but thankfully it seems you still have to wait until the age of 15.) How far is the country going to allow this to go in the name of not offending the politically correct SJW crowd? Is there no red line which can not be crossed?

These are children we’re talking about. It is the parents’ obligation, first and foremost, to protect them. But if the parents fail, at some point the state needs to step in and prevent a disaster, not promote one. Even if you happen to believe that “gender dysphoria” is a physical medical condition where a person is born in the wrong sort of body rather than a psychological condition which might be treatable through other means, it doesn’t have that short of a fuse on the “disease.” If you are “diagnosed” at the age of fifteen, it’s not going to kill you in the next three years the same way cancer or heart failure or some other actual physical malady might. You can wait until you’re an adult and then decide to do it, providing you are willing to live with the consequences.

I’d write more, but I really need a drink. Join me for a martini and a bout of depression if you’d like.