I love having health insurance. In fact, I love it so much that the only thing I asked for when A’s dad and I divorced was the right to resume using my maiden name (also known as pulling a Tina Turner) and that A be covered by her dad’s health insurance so that she’d always have the right to, you know, health care.
I also like it when my neighbors have insurance. It’s really nice to know that people won’t have to go bankrupt because they have an accident or a chronic illness. Maybe enjoying the health of my neighbors makes me a good person. Or maybe it simply means I don’t suck. I like it when everyone has the right to mammograms and immunizations and annual check ups and, gasp, birth control. I love it. I want to roll around in the right to live a healthy life. Forget rolling around in cash. I want to run, naked, through a forest of preventative medicine. And I don’t want you, or you, or you, to lose your home, your job, your family, because you had the nerve to get sick.
I’m watching Congress act like Lord of the Flies and I’m a little sad. We told Eastern Europeans during the Cold War that their leaders didn’t care about them because they couldn’t offer them certain freedoms – certain rights – you know…human rights.
And yes, access to healthcare is a human rights issues.
I stopped blogging politics years ago because I couldn’t stand the amount of racism that came vomiting out of people’s mouths, all in the guise of: we’re just warning you about…
And in many ways, this argument isn’t about politics. It’s about humans. And rights. And human rights.
When I was a little girl growing up in San Diego, I had health insurance, lovingly called MediCal. I had the right to go to a doctor when I needed to and that gave me the right to grow up big and strong. Now, I work full-time and my healthcare premiums, while higher than I would like, allow me to stay big and strong. Last week I was in the hospital for four days. Without health insurance, I wouldn’t have bothered to go to the doctor or the emergency room. I saw my general practitioner, then a neurologist, then was admitted for a few days. While in the hospital I saw a neurologist and gastroenterologist and had a CT Scan and two MRIs. I was on morphine and antibiotics and carried around an IV drip for 96 hours. Without health insurance, I’d have gone home and suffered rather than pay an insane amount of money.
And then I wouldn’t know that my back is busted beyond belief. And then I wouldn’t have gotten a treatment plan. And then I’d have tried to go to work. And then I’d be in the hospital for months because I wouldn’t be able to walk.
Yay! Health insurance.
Our government has shut its doors. We elect these people, in case any of us have forgotten. Let me know how it goes for you on the day you decide you don’t feel like going to work to talk to your colleagues because you don’t like something they said. Let me know if you keep your health insurance. If you don’t, I hope you don’t get sick.
I love this country, but I’m embarrassed that I’m too lazy to go buy a gun today. That would be okay. Visiting the Statute of Liberty or getting access to healthcare? Not so easy.
Whatever your political leanings, figure out what you really like or don’t like about the Affordable Care Act – if you find yourself stumped about the facts, go educate yourself already.