Recently, through a debacle at my workplace my son lost his health insurance just as we were on the verge of having things move on up to the next level of him transitioning into adulthood by beginning community college. As it turned out he couldn’t then register for college because I had to use the tuition money I had set aside for his medications – a classic catch 22. Had he been able to register and begin, the health insurance would have kicked back in and we could have moved on with our lives.
The old phrase penny wise and pound foolish comes to mind with regard to these matters of health insurance coverage. We have since been working through the county and city medical safety net to have him seen about a purely physical problem that he has. So far, he has been to the emergency room, had two doctor visits, had an incredible amount of blood work done, and still has not been referred to a specialist. Why? Because they really believe that his pain is related to bipolar disorder. I’m astonished to discover how much of one’s humanity can be ignored by simply having a diagnosis. As I’ve written before, I do remember the problems my mother had in getting treatment (because she was a woman and had bipolar disorder) but I am the first to admit that I live in a special place. I am surrounded by well-educated people who generally have moderate to liberal ideas about how people should be treated and how our society should respond to those with disabilities. The prejudice about mental health disorders runs deeper than a cursory college education could possibly erase and I have been stunned to silence on occasion when talking about these matters with my “well-educated” neighbors and co-workers. The amount of stigma, even within the medical community, is beyond my ability to comprehend.
Finally, I made a few phone calls to social workers I know who work with or in “the system” to see if we could get things moving along to have him seen by a specialist. An orthopedist would be the first logical step in this, no pun intended, to help him with the pain in his leg. So far, no luck.
It is possible that his insurance through my work place will be retroactive and things will get back on track, but this gives me little comfort when I know that there are many other families out there with no insurance for their children, teenagers, and young adults with disabilities. But no family should have to worry about whether their children are covered. Things change in the blink of an eye and we can easily find ourselves in a terrible and dark place in trying to take care of our loved ones or ourselves.
Should profit really be a part of health care? Why should someone be making a profit off of my child’s disability or another person’s cancer or another person’s unfortunate automobile accident? I find this morally repugnant and a violation of all that could possibly be ethical. Unfathomable. Totally and completely unfathomable.
Just to add, I do not have a problem with healthcare workers (doctors, nurses, medical receptionists, etc.) making a living doing what they are trained to do – I DO have a problem with insurance companies making huge profits and by so doing run community health care into the ground and by so doing actually kill people. Denying coverage kills people. Denying the opinions of doctors and trained professionals kill people. It is murder from all that I am able to see. I welcome any discussion on these and other matters, if those reading have an interest in such a discussion.