Or, Insurance

Health insurance had never been a problem for me personally.  I had been covered throughout my adult life either through self-employment or by the church I worked for.

Now, granted, I did not have any grandiose notions about the benevolence or the ethics of health insurance companies.  For three years BCBS tried to stick us with the bill for Chloe’s birth, despite the fact that Tracy had been covered throughout her pregnancy and delivery. It took years of attorneys, threats of litigation, and stress to get them to pay what they rightfully owed.
When I moved to Michigan and began pastoring a congregation of less than 100 people, the luxury of provided insurance was no longer viable.  I now had to secure coverage for me and my family.

Tracy and Chloe were no problem.  I got them insured soon after we arrived in Port Huron, although at astronomical rates.

Yet, no one would cover me.  I was 34 years old and without insurance. With one child and another one soon to be on the way there was no safety net if something happened to me. I was deemed too much of a medical uncertainty for ANY insurance company to take a risk on me.

Sure, I was overweight with elevated cholesterol.  I was on synthroid for hypothyroidism.  During the final days of my disastrous youth ministry in Texas, I had taken some anti-depressants.  But come on, Zoloft is like candy in our prescription happy society.

But, I was healthy.  I had no serious problems.  I had never been sick a day in my life.  There was no alarming family history of medical problems.

Yet, no one would cover me. 

And in the state of Michigan, no one had to.  That’s capitalism, friends.  Competition is good, right?

3 miles away, across Lake Huron, however, my Canadian neighbors had insurance. They had quality coverage, cheap prescription benefits and access to expert care.  Everyone was covered.
Yet, on the streets of America, I was one of 44 million uninsured people.  The richest, most powerful country in the world offered little to no protection to its citizens in the event of a medical catastrophe.

The game was driven by HMOs caring more for profit and competition than for patients and care. These organizations proscribe choice and hamstring doctors from providing complete and total treatment.

Fortunately, I found one doctor who made it easier for me to navigate this period.  She continually waived large portions of the office visit fee and kept me stocked with samples so that I did not have prescription costs, which would have been sizeable without coverage.  To me, she was the epitome of what American health care should be.

Eventually the prospect of what could happen forced my wife to return to work.  She works, to this day, for the sole purpose of providing health insurance.  Her paycheck usually amounts to less than we pay for child-care.  (But that’s another issue, entirely.)
My experience was a wake-up call to see the health care crisis that we face in this country. My first-hand encounter with the heartless pursuit of capitalistic competition was enough to give me pause.

We can spend billions of dollars a minute on a war, we can send rebates and “economic stimulus” checks but we can’t provide better coverage for hard-working Americans?

I became a proponent of health-care reform.

Next-OIL and Lee Camp

For further reading, I suggest Critical Condition : How Health Care in America Became Big Business–and Bad Medicine.