My husband is 31 years old. Last fall, he was diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer. He has no genetic predisposition to the disease. Nearly every doctor we have encountered has said, “Wow! You are perfectly healthy!”
You know, except for that whole “cancer” thing.
The healthcare bill that your senate colleagues are working on behind closed doors is terrifying to me. My husband has been able to survive his cancer thus far due to the superb care he has received from Rex Hospital in Raleigh and at UNC. His insurance has covered nearly a million dollars in treatments that have saved his life. Our friends and family have bent over backward to help and provided thousands of dollars in financial assistance.
Because, after his FMLA ran out, my husband was fired from his position as a program manager/CPA at the American Institute of CPAs (AICPA.) They were well within their legal rights, though one could make a strong case that the decision was of questionable morality.
The firing left him without a job, but more importantly, it left him in insurance limbo. Our family is able to help to cover the $700/month COBRA payments. There is a distinct element of privilege that has allowed us to come this far.
But think, for a moment, what it would be like if we were unable to afford the COBRA payments or to have access to insurance in a private market? Preston and I are both contributing and tax-paying members of the state you represent. I can assure you – despite our considerable privilege, my steady income, and supportive friends and family – without insurance coverage, we would be bankrupt in about 3 months.
That’s all it would take. We would lose our house. Cars. Struggle to pay for food for our 4-year-old. We couldn’t pay for the treatments that would keep my husband alive.
He would die. Do you understand? Without treatment, my kind, thoughtful, strong, brilliant husband would die.
And this is the reality for many of the people in your home state. Your neighbors. Friends. And while your station as white, middle-class men would likely afford your circles of influence some grace in this area, no one would be immune from an unexpected diagnosis, heartless employer, or life-changing accident.
If you, in good conscience, can look me in the eyes and tell me that my husband will not have to go bankrupt or die because of your healthcare bill, then I will gladly trudge forward with hope and faith.
That said, I don’t think you can do that. Because it is likely that you will sign a bill that has not had time to be fully understood. You will put your name on to something the implications of which are unknown at best, devastating at worst.
I understand that you hate the Affordable Care Act. And I agree that it needs to be fixed.
But please, fix it. Be the thoughtful leaders driven by your love of people and your care for your friends and neighbors. Take the time to help your colleagues understand that no one is to benefit from a knee jerk reaction. That one sixth of our economy should not depend on a single-sided argument without fully understanding – and communicating – the results of your actions.
You may feel as though you don’t represent me. Admittedly, I didn’t vote for you. But please remember, you don’t represent only the people who voted you in to office or who contributed to your campaign. You represent my family to one of the strongest bodies of governance in the entire world.
When you head to church on Sunday, or find yourself in a moment of reflection, or as you are enjoying a meal with good friends or family, please take a moment to think critically about health care. I would offer the following as a meditative guide:
Do you believe healthcare to be a right?
Alternatively, do you believe that one must have a certain level of privilege or money to be able to stay alive?
Is it simply the way of the world that those without money should die in larger numbers than wealthy individuals?
Does “health” include more than just treating illness, or is there a certain amount of prevention involved?
Who are the main influencers in your decision-making process regarding health care – your faith? Family? Insurance corporations? Aids? Research?
My sincere thanks if you made it all the way through this letter. I will leave you with this – a compelling and thoughtful piece of scripture that makes a call to the “haves” of the world. I believe this adage to apply not only to individuals as the Lord commands, but also to those who have the means to improve the lives of many through the federal, state, or local government. I have made my career in nonprofits and philanthropy and would argue that though there are many that choose not to shut out the poor, many more are focused on individualism.
“If among you, one of your brothers should become poor, in any of your towns within your land that the Lord your God is giving you, you shall not harden your heart or shut your hand against your poor brother, but you shall open your hand to him and lend him sufficient for his need, whatever it may be. Take care lest there be an unworthy thought in your heart and you say, ‘The seventh year, the year of release is near,’ and your eye look grudgingly on your poor brother, and you give him nothing, and he cry to the Lord against you, and you be guilty of sin. You shall give to him freely, and your heart shall not be grudging when you give to him, because for this the Lord your God will bless you in all your work and in all that you undertake. For there will never cease to be poor in the land. Therefore I command you, ‘You shall open wide your hand to your brother, to the needy and to the poor, in your land.’”
And, while I believe strongly that people are basically good – they donate, they share, they help – the need is simply far greater than those generous souls can satiate.
You have the means, and an incredible opportunity, to save lives. Please think carefully as you make this decision, and keep those less fortunate than yourselves firmly in your hearts.
With respect,
Sarah Mann Willcox
Wow, Sarah. That is so beautifully written. I wrote to them last time, and you have inspired me to write again. It’s hard to feel helpless, but I know it’s important to press on. Eileen
LikeLike