Bedridden Lawmaker Waits to Take Stand

From Rep. George Miller’s perspective, the president’s future looks precarious.

The liberal Northern California Democrat’s perspective is a little unusual for a veteran congressman: Miller is flat on his back in bed 2,800 miles away from the debate, so his impressions are influenced as much by CNN as by frequent cell phone calls from Washington.

“It’s frustrating. . . . I find myself arguing with my colleagues on television,” he said, as he watched his capital roommate, Rep. Charles E. Schumer (D-N.Y.), state his case on C-SPAN.

Miller, known as a master of political maneuvering, made a logistical error nine days ago. Thinking Congress would never go for impeachment, he went into the hospital for hip-replacement surgery.

Now, with the tide seeming to be turning against Clinton, Miller faces the prospect of rising from his prescribed bed rest at home in Martinez for a trip East next week.

His doctor has given him the go-ahead, he said, but on one strict condition: He must recline while traveling. Since Miller is a sure vote for the president, fellow Democrats are scrambling to make that possible.

Erik Smith, spokesman for House Minority Leader Richard A. Gephardt (D-Mo.), said that a staff member has been assigned to find a solution over the weekend. Learning that Gov. Pete Wilson made a similar post-operative trek when he was a U.S. senator, Smith asked: “How’d he get there? We’re looking for ideas.”

In fact, Wilson’s emergency appendectomy took place in Washington, making it somewhat easier to transport him--via ambulance--to cast a deciding vote in a 1985 budget battle.

Options suggested for Miller so far waffle between a military jet and a private plane. But how to install that bed?

Miller never expected to be in such straits. When chronic pain in his hip (left, of course) reached the point of making him walk with a limp several months ago, he believed the impeachment vote would not come until January. Then, as both surgery and vote loomed nearer, it appeared there would be plenty of nays without his.

While lying awake in bed between physical therapy, muscle spasms and naps, Miller found himself reflecting on the voting climate change.

The shift occurred in the last 10 days, he believes, but “I’m at a loss to tell you why.”

“I talked to . . . Gephardt this morning and he said he thought the Democrats were holding pretty firm on not voting for impeachment,” Miller said, “but there was an awful, awful lot of pressure on the undecided Republicans.”

Those conversations are crucial to Miller’s most pressing decision: to travel or not. He is relying on Gephardt to keep tabs on the vote and bring him back only if absolutely necessary.

“This would be one of the most important votes that I would cast in my entire time in Congress,” said Miller, who was swept into office in the wake of Watergate and has been a major player on weighty national issues ranging from environmental protection to teacher training.

Though political observers have long speculated that the Senate would never affirm an impeachment vote, making Miller’s presence appear less essential, the latter-day shift on Miller’s side of the aisle makes him nervous.

“This gets more and more serious with every step,” he said. “I don’t think you can take it casually.”

Though “disappointed and disgusted” with Clinton and anxious to punish him with a serious censure, Miller said: “These actions are not about subverting the government . . , an undermining of the Constitution, as we saw in Watergate. And impeachment really has to be reserved for those kinds of actions.”