I'm going to completely blow my wad on the first shot with what has the potential to be the most interesting thing I have to say, with my very first post in this blog. So, after you read this one, you can rest assured, there will not be anything else worthwhile here again. Wait. Um. Disregard that.
Allow me to also add a disclaimer to this post. I am not allowed to express opinions at my job, since I work in the service industry. That said, I know I will piss someone off with my comments, and that's fine. It's the fucking internet, someone is going to offend you. Deal.
Now then, the subject on my (and majority of America) mind is the recent health care reform. I'm not thinking of it in real terms quite yet; I have just started considering it in relation to my parents. Today I tweeted, "I wish I had something poignant statement about HCR, but honestly, I just want my parents to be able to get the medication they need." Quite simply, I believe everyone should have health care. Period. It's a human right. I also believe the standard of care should be the same for all of us. That said, let me start at the beginning.
And I really do mean the beginning.
My parents divorced when I was 2. My stepfather came into my life almost immediately afterward, and assumed the responsibility of being a father to another man's child. Neither my mother, father, nor stepfather had college degrees. All of them worked blue collar jobs, with my stepdad having the most stable employment; he had started working for Nazar Rubber Company in the late 70's. It was a union job, Teamsters, and he was active in the union and negotiations for health care and other contract issues. He worked 60 hours a week for most of my life, switching between all three shifts. He generally bid on positions and shifts that would allow him to spend time with me - I remember there were sit downs at the dinner table to discuss what I wanted him to work, and I always wanted to know just one thing: when would I get to see him?
When I was in the fourth grade, my mother and stepfather purchased their very first house, in a rural neighborhood. Private schools weren't as common, and so they sought out the "safest" public school they could. I had the largest room I'd ever seen. As a condition of this large room, it was explained to me that my mom had to work full time. She hadn't worked full time since I was born, and I never went to day care.
Life went on in that fashion, with my mother working full time (and for a little while, she worked two jobs) and my stepfather working 60+ hours a week in a dark, dirty, smelly factory in order to pay for our house and, eventually, my braces.
Eventually, my stepdad's plant closed. So began the fight.
My stepdad had worked there for 28.5 years, just shy of 30 and his full pension. The health benefits offered were outrageous, and he could only collect a percentage of his pension. He was also restricted by his union on what kind of job he could get while collecting his pension.
During this time, my mother developed MS. I began going to neurologist appointments and we eventually traveled to The Cleveland Clinic for multiple MRIs. All the while, the time on the insurance was running out. Eventually they prescribed my mother Neurontin and she is still taking it. Once the insurance ran out, she went to the drug company and got on their assistance program. She has gradually been decreasing her dosage on her own, because the company has an allowance they give her. Her dosage hasn't been what the doctor prescribed in a few years.
After we got the MS under control, around Christmas, she discovered a lump in her breast. She immediately went on Medicaid. I would like to note that was the best thing to happen - when faced with a life threatening illness, the government stepped in, and everything was covered. Long story short, she lived to tell the tale, and is just now about to lose her Medicaid coverage, as she was given a clean bill of health.
The end of my mother's breast cancer apparently just meant we were in for more fun, and my stepfather developed COPD. He has been in and out of the hospital, and he had to go on medical leave from his job. He is currently fighting for disability, since the man can barely move without having extreme difficulty breathing. He has been denied already, and is on appeal. His condition is only getting worse, as he cannot afford to pay for the drugs he needs to breathe, just the lower level meds that treat the symptoms. He also is filling up with fluid from the steroids they gave him, which is causing pressure on his heart. Eventually, he's looking at congestive heart failure as well.
Which is a long way to my point. My parents have worked, all of my life. Physically demanding jobs, even. They've paid their taxes, been good citizens, and now, they cannot even pay their rent, yet my stepdad's pension ensures they can not receive any financial assistance. They ride the line of poor, but just not poor enough; sick, but just not sick enough. And they are dying. We all are, I know.
This is the face of the health care debate to me.
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