I almost died over Christmas of 2007.
Simultaneously, it has been an experience worth forgetting and one worth writing about.
A Health Insurance agent at my front door - circa December, 2007
My personal tale is replete with most of the common insurance nightmares known to man - travails we have all experienced and I won't bother repeating. Health Insurance Hell has become that shared place where all of us eventually find ourselves - all of us, that is, who are not members of Congress since they enjoy top quality, publicly funded health insurance. My story is far from unique and far from the most horrifying - particularly because mine has a rare happy ending. As you read on, keep that in mind.
The insanity is rampant and too many of us remain its victims.
In part, I write my story armed with the improbable hope that some powerful Senator will read this and garner some measure of pathos for the average American heretofore unfelt - and discover a calling beyond selling ones soul in return for corporate campaign contributions.
NEWS ITEM: NINE REPUBLICAN SENATORS WHO SIGNED LETTER OPPOSING PUBLIC HEALTH PLAN TOOK $17.7 MILLION IN CAMPAIGN CASH FROM HEALTH CARE/INSURANCE INDUSTRIES. NEARLY 2 MILLION EACH
But before we rush to blame the healthcare mess on the Republicans, first know that the Democrats are just as guilty of selling out the American public to the highest bidders.
After punctually paying the same insurance provider for 35 years, the company cancelled my family’s health insurance.
My wife had been in ill health for about 10 years and required five major surgeries to arrest a worsening condition. In the eyes of our insurance provider, she had become too much of a drain on their profit margin. Despite having paid considerable premiums for nothing (thankfully) for most of those years, the company didn’t waste a minute before unceremoniously abandoning us.
Due to our income loss from my wife's illness we couldn't afford to buy insurance at exorbitant private rates – plus, most companies refuse to cover pre-existing conditions. So like millions of other Americans, my wife and I and our 16-year old son simply went without insurance, without our doctors and without regular examinations. During our first year without coverage, my own health began to deteriorate - my 60-year old body was beginning to betray me but not show it. Unfortunately, we could no longer afford the basic tests that would have predicted and prevented the catastrophic medical event that would nearly end my life.
The "good" news was that 3 or 4 days prior to my emergency hospitalization my family was accepted into a state-supported but privately run health insurance plan - an HMO with the barest of offerings - but more than nothing.
Unidentified Healthcare Executive Sits With Republican Caucus
The insurance company was obligated to pay for some of the catastrophic costs associated with my eight days in the hospital, but the bill for the hospital services alone (not including the doctor’s fees) was over $79,000. Our out-of-pocket costs were high enough to bankrupt us and my family was about to receive more bad news before I was even out of surgery.
I needed a second major operation, and here was the added catch.
Our new insurance plan only covered one major surgery in any one calendar year. I was 100% liable for any additional procedures, and as an added kick in my sore abdomen, few specialists blessed with the considerable skills required to repair me graced my insurance company's provider list.
My only option appeared to lay with "Medical Tourism," a rapidly growing cottage industry that owes much of its existence to the tremendous number of uninsured and under-insured Americans. Through blind Internet searches, I found medical facilities in Israel and India - and even in Thailand offering the most advanced surgical techniques for a fraction (as low as 1/20th) of the cost of the same procedures performed in the United States. Many, if not most of the listed foreign surgeons were the product of the top American Medical schools. But even at bargain-basement rates the trick for me was saving enough money to get there in the first place. I'm self-employed, and neither my wife nor I had incomes during my recuperation. We would need to pay for multiple, high-priced airfares, a hotel room and of course, a hospital room for an unspecified number of days. Ironically, it was easier to secure a financial loan to pay for the procedure directly through the foreign hospital then secure the same loan from a US lender. Banks around these parts don’t like it when you die on them with an outstanding balance. Still, without enough knowledge (at least reassurances satisfactory to my family) and separated by a common language and one or two oceans, I knew I was gambling with my own life. Yet getting treatment overseas seemed the only solution, for In the wealthiest and most powerful country in the history of the mankind, citizens are left to die at the hands of an avaricious, unregulated and monopolistic private insurance cabal.
But then, a miracle began to unfold.
Let me add here that by the wondrous winds of good fate, my emergency room surgeon turned out to be the hospital’s Chief of Surgery. He happened to be the on-call surgeon the night I was admitted in critical condition. During a post-op visit, he broached the subject of my next operation and a reasonable schedule for the procedure. Embarrassed, I sheepishly told him about my insurance woes and then bleeted out the story of my research into Medical Tourism. He replied, "Before you go flying off to Thailand (read: off the handle), let me see what I can do for you. I can't promise anything now, but give me a little time to think and make some calls – I have an idea." He didn't elaborate and I didn't want to press him. Two weeks later, he called me at home and told me about a surgeon friend at the hospital who also happened to be a World-renowned specialist in the intricate reconstruction work I required. His friend had agreed to perform the 6-hour operation, and as I found out later – perform it for free. Without my knowledge, these two incredible men had also convinced the hospital to recuse all of its associated fees related to both operations - in total, approximately $200,000 worth of forgiveness!
Two weeks ago, and 18 months after my odyssey into medical hell began, I underwent a third operation to correct a few related but relatively minor problems. The cost of the "Day Procedure" was dutifully paid for by my crappy insurance company, and without much complaint. Still, to qualify for coverage, I had to sign myself in through the clinic since none of the medical practices connected with the hospital accepted my insurance for office visits. The Clinic surgeons are assigned to cases by the hospital and are never chosen by the patient. But being the luckiest man alive, I wasn’t surprised when the Chief of Surgery, the man who saved my life on that cold Christmas night, greeted me in the clinic with a wide smile stretched across a kind face and informed me that he would perform the operation himself.
Through no effort of the insurance industry, but rather, the goodness of two exceptional men, I was returned, still breathing and relatively intact, to my family and my career.
If only our health care system and lawmakers reflected a fraction of the common decency and charity of total strangers – or the American people, in general.
If only!