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I spent most of Saturday evening volunteering for the local democratic headquarters with my 12-year-old daughter. When I came home it was time to put the 2-year-old to sleep. I turned on Law & Order and invited him to come snuggle on the sofa with me. The process took maybe 10 minutes. When I noticed he had fallen asleep, I decided to lay down flat on the pillow. That's when it started...
The room began to circle, dip and dance. I sat up and then attempted to stand when a sharp pain hit my chest. It felt as if someone had rammed a fiery sword directly between my breasts and pushed it all the way through the other side, exiting between my shoulder blades. I made it into the bathroom by hanging on furniture and walls along the way. Then I got terribly sick. (I'll save you the details.)
At this point, I was quite convinced that I was having a major heart attack, or something equally as horrible and deadly, and that my life would soon be ending. Now, given such a situation, one would think that I would pick up the phone and dial for an ambulance. No, I didn't. My first thought was if our insurance company covered ambulance rides. My second thought was how much the deductible would be if they didn't. My third thought was how much the hospital and other medical-related bills would be if indeed I was having a heart attack and if they were able to save my life. Given my options, I prefered to die right there in my own bathroom and save the family the financial trauma along with the emotional.
It was a few moments later when my husband found me and then immediately phoned for an ambulance. I was taken to one of the local hospitals where we learned that is wasn't my heart (thank goodness) but my middle ear and a severe case of vertigo. (Imagine riding the carnival ride that makes you the most sick over and over and over and you'll have an idea of how it feels.)
I waived being admitted into the hospital and came home with three prescriptions. The only way I'll be able to afford the prescription co-pay this week will be to take money from a different pile (electric bill, grocery, etc.) I'm also supposed to make an appointment to see my regular doctor (only enough medications to last about 3 days) and I'll need to take money from another pile to pay for that visit as well.
So, this is the true face of American middle class health care. We make well over the amount to qualify for any government assistance. We do carry insurance through an employer and we're very much grateful for it. But the sad truth is that after we pay just over $1,700 pre-tax dollars for our premium costs, there is very little left over for co-pays, deductibles and so-forth.
When medical emergencies arise, my husband and myself are much more likely to let our own health take a hit than our pocketbooks. When the children have medical emergencies, we take the pocketbook hit automatically... although we do give nasty colds and viruses that extra 24-hours to see if they can just kick it themselves. There is never a time when we seek medical care that we aren't accutely aware of the costs involved and the sacrifices that will need to be made in our already thin budget.
We've even toyed with the idea of cancelling our health insurance and putting back money on our own. As it currently stands, however, the cost of prescriptions and supplies for my husband (insulin dependent diabetic) and my daughter (trigger asthmatic) would quickly dry up what we're paying each month in premiums. It's a no-win situation for us.
Ironically, if we both suddenly lost our jobs and pride, we'd be able to live off the government. From our view, society rewards both wealth and poverty. Those of us in the middle are as forgotten about as Osama.
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