Today, July 1,2009, finally, I qualify for Medicare!
I never dreamed that I would be thrilled--nay, ecstatic--to (almost)reach age 65.
I have Health Insurance again! I've purchased a good supplemental policy and the Part D drug benefit. So I get to buy drugs today, for a copay of about $8 instead of $80...drugs I quit taking for the last few days because (a)it wouldn't hurt me to stop these particular drugs briefly and (b)I knew I'd save close to $70 by doing so. With my currently-meager budget, $70 is a lot of dough.
Of course, I will probably hit the infamous donut hole--if not this year, then certainly next. But at least I can go to the doctor for my aching shoulder or my weird rash or my sore feet. I can visit my oncologist on schedule without fearing that one extra test could send me into 18 months of payback to the hospital MRI department, as happened before. I could get the (non-cancer but important) surgery I've been putting off for two years because I simply couldn't afford it. Now all this and more--even flu shots--are accessible to me!
For more on how normal self-care decisions came to be agonizing choices, see below.
I am a freelance writer. I’ve been supporting myself without the safety-net of husband or family fortune since my divorce in 1977 – 32 years, all told.
During my marriage I was, of course, covered by my husband’s health care policy through his employer. It was never at risk, even when the company where he worked went on strike. I felt secure, my babies’ births were paid for, largely, by full coverage insurance back in those days. We didn’t have much if anything in the way of copays, but we also didn’t use insurance much. A family of four, we were lucky. The kids had the usual occasional accidents that warranted trips to the ER for stitches or Xrays, but that was about it. No broken bones. No serious illnesses. We were blessed with good health.
Then came the divorce. Although the children’s health care was still covered by my husband’s insurance, mine was not. For 18 months or so, February 1977 through December 1978, I was employed by an ad agency. After my preliminary testing phase, of about 6 weeks, I received company benefits, ie, Health Insurance. When I left the company in December 1978, those benefits ended as well. And I went through another brief but angst-ridden period without health insurance. I obtained individual insurance as quickly as I could, vowing to never, never, never let my health insurance lapse again. I felt so insecure without coverage, since my savings were always meager and there was no pot of money, among friends or relatives, to fall back on for emergencies. The worst possible scenario in my mind was a bout of unfortunate health problems that would sap my strength, my ability to earn a living, and force me to lose my house, my dignity, and the respect of my children.
So all those years, from mid-1978 to February 28, 2009, I had individual health coverage. There were different insurance companies along the way, as one after another dropped their individual policies or became prohibitively expensive for assorted reasons. In recent years I signed up with Anthem Blue Cross of Ohio. It was, for a while, a reasonably viable option. And they did pay quite a bit toward the (apparently successful) treatment of early-stage breast cancer that I developed in 2005. But every year the premium jumped forward and the coverage became less. I moved from a $500 deductible, to a $1,000 deductible, to a $2,000 deductible policy. I was always nervous about the month of December, when I’d get the news of the next year’s increase. In 2008, I was paying about $485. I expected a 10% or greater rise. But when I opened the envelope last December, I learned my premium would jump by roughly $150. My heart sank. I had no idea how I could ever pay the premium.
Because it’s not just the $636.85 that goes to my personal health care expenditure. There is also the $30 co-pay per prescription. I take several necessary medicines. So add at least another $150 to $180 onto the basic insurance bill. Cost of blood tests, shots, other procedures comes out of the $2,000 deductible that is part of this "bargain" plan from Anthem Blue Cross. Doctors’ office visits cost an additional $25 copay. I have to see my oncologist and gynecologist regularly, and my family doctor at least once a year. I also have had bouts of arthritis. I had to pay out of pocket for eye exams, glasses, and the dentist. Anthem didn’t cover that at all.
A year or two ago, an episode of nerve pain in my upper back sent me in for an MRI and bone scan, to rule out metastasized cancer. Once again, I was lucky. I had a pinched nerve, not a tumor. But it took me 18 months to pay off that MRI exam, in a payment to the hospital of $125 per month in addition to my health insurance premium, prescriptions, doctor visits, and other tests. It doesn’t take a math genius to figure out that I’d need a sizable and steady income to pay these expenditures without cringing. Although I’ve enjoyed an adequate living most years, as a freelancer, the phrase "sizable and steady income" is a pipedream. The last couple years were worse, far worse, than before.
So I knew I was in trouble, where health insurance was concerned, clear back in December. I researched what to do if I didn’t renew my policy. I called my doctors, my pharmacy, and the State of Ohio. I got quotes on what my medicines would cost at retail,with and without "discounts" that might be available. I seriously considered dropping the insurance on January 1.
But I had a small windfall of income in December, and I was so frightened of going without insurance, especially as a former cancer patient. I took some of that small "extra" funding and made my January payment to Anthem. I did the same thing in February. But by March – there was no extra to be had. I was seriously out of money. I didn’t have enough to pay my taxes. I barely had enough to pay my rent, electricity, phone, and gasoline for the car. If I could have come up with $636.85 by March 31, I would still be "covered." I had some work, finally. But the checks hadn’t arrived yet.
The big blank door with the sign reading "NO Health Insurance" was right in front of me. I hinted to friends. I could no longer dodge the inevitable.
OK, I more than hinted, but there were no helpers in sight. I had to face up to reality. I was about to join the 87 million other Americans who live in this bountiful, rich country, without health coverage.
I gritted my teeth, crossed my fingers, took the plunge. I paid out of pocket for all my drugs (hundreds of $, but still not as much as the health insurance premium) and scheduled all regular doctor's appointments for after July 1. And - today - this happy, happy day, I can breathe a sigh of relief for myself. (My birthday is later this month, but official Medicare enrollment begins on the first day of the month one turns 65.)
But there are about 86,999,999 other Americans who will NOT be going on Medicare today. I join them and the progressive-but-insured Americans to support Single Payer proponents like Physicians for a National Health Program , or at barest minimum, a public option to ease the minds and bodies of every resident of the US, so we too can enjoy equality of health care with the rest of the enlightened world.