My healthcare reform moment

May 2008- My daughter and I pulled up to the skating rink for a Friday afternoon skating fundraiser for her magnet school. For a 7-year- old girl, an afterschool skate party with her female classmates is the ultimate social event. And I am the chaperone, the designated parent for birthday parties and school functions.
The parking lot was almost full. Other parents have arrived ahead of us. We walked through the door and I was about to grab my wallet to pay to get inside, when I noticed the sign.
“If you do not have health insurance we recommend that you not skate. We are not responsible for injuries incurred on the skate rink.”
We had been to this skating rink for parties before. The sign was faded and old, but somehow I had never noticed it. Why should I? In 20 years of employment since I graduated from college, I always had health insurance. Until then.
As I reread the sign, the presidential campaign debate about portability, universal healthcare, single payer system and health care reform immediately became very real. It took two decades, but my ox had finally been gored.
Then the two of us had one of those unforgettable moments between a father and a daughter, man and child. That afternoon it seemed that for a second our roles were reversed. For a second I felt ashamed, powerless to provide for my daughter. I felt like one of those people who I used to look down on. But my shame was soon replaced by an infusion of pride. Instead of throwing the expected tantrum, instead of breaking down in tears over her disappointment, my daughter offered me an olive branch as sturdy as a life raft.
“It’s okay dad,” she said. “It’s okay. I’m not upset.”
We turned around and walked out of the rink and drove home to do something far less physically risky – watch television.
I lost my health insurance the minute I was laid off from my newspaper job. The process was much more humane than many of the lay off horror stories I had heard. I got early notice enough to schedule dentist, doctor and optometrist visits.
The company cut its ties with me on the last day of work. With the paycheck went my health insurance. The HR department offered one option. I could buy COBRAA for me and my family, the letter said. Cost? $950 a month. I was astounded by the absurdity of it. Those who are employed fulltime and have good paying jobs get cheaper health insurance than the unemployed. How was I going to afford COBRAA on my $275 weekly unemployment check?
Unemployment and the lack of health insurance are partners in the sad marriage of our present economic maelstrom. The Kaiser Family Foundation predicts that if unemployment rate hits 10 percent this year, the roll of those with employer sponsored health insurance could fall by 13.5milion people. That could swell the ranks of those with SCHIP and Medicaid could grow by 5.4 million. That could mean another 5.8 million uninsured Americans. Just think that in 2007 when times were good relatively, there were 45 million Americans trying to figure out how to stay healthy without health insurance.
KFF analysts say that every one percentage increase in the unemployment rate represents to a 1.1 million increased in the ranks of the uninsured population and a one million increase in the SCHIP and Medicaid enrollment.
And having a job no longer guarantees you health insurance. Companies that offer health insurance are making employees pay more for less. The Wall Street Journal recently reported that many small businesses are cutting employee health insurance in order to avoid layoffs or just to stay in business. Talk about a blow to employee morale. The bad news seems endless.
But here is the good news.
The stunning numbers of those newly unemployed and uninsured add an unprecedented urgency to the current health care reform debate. For the first time in a long time, enough people are affected by an issue and a forced to pay attention by what happens in Washington.
So what do we do? Hopefully we are beyond another “Harry and Louise” moment. Scare tactics about socialized medicine won’t work this time. It’s one thing to be a conservative Republican denouncing government run healthcare when you have a job and your doctor’s visits are subsidized. That argument holds less currency after you have been sitting at home for a few months and you don't know whether that bump on your son’s arms is just a bruise or a fracture. How about a plan that taxes those who are insured against the day when they might lose their health insurance? We’ve figured out a way to provide income for the unemployed.
This country spends $2.5 trillion a year on health care. Half is from the government; the rest is private. We have the framework for the kind of health system that can meet the needs of an increasingly unhealthy populace. Our problem isn’t one of means; it’s a lack of will.
There are people all over this country who are getting paid to maintain the status quo. They reckon if they stall long enough, good times will return; they hope people like me will forget and move on to the next big distraction.
They’re wrong.
May 2009 On the Friday before Memorial Day, my daughter’s elementary school has another fundraiser at the same skating rink from a year earlier. She’s a second grader. Third grade and its freedom looms. Her girl friendships are as important as ever and so are the parties and out of school social events- like a fundraising party at the skating rink. She has $5; she’s willing to pay her own way. She remembers the disappointment of a year earlier. She jokes with her mom about it.
Now dad has a job; he has health insurance. At the scheduled time we arrived at the rink. I paid her way in; they stamped her arm and I walked in behind her. I didn’t see the sign that blocked my way a year earlier. To be honest, I didn’t look for it. Unfortunately, when I have health insurance, there are some signs I think I can afford to ignore. But that sign I won't soon forget.