My dad just turned 67 a couple of months ago. For reasons I won't go into at this moment, I hadn't seen him in seven years. It's not that I didn't or don't love my dad. I do, very, very much. But in May, I was notified by a family member that my father didn't know who my mother was anymore. I was shocked, so I called my mother (with whom I have no relationship at all) and demanded to talk to my dad.
Guess what?
He didn't know me.
It turns out my dad has been sliding downhill very, very quickly. He got fired from his job late last year, and in the last few months has wandered away from home and had to have his car keys taken from him. My dad was a robust, strong, fit dude who worked his ass off for years. When I went to see him just after Memorial Day weekend, he was a shriveled, wizened husk of a man who could barely hobble around.
Wanna know why he didn't go to the doctor when his symptoms started?
That's right, Senator Reid. My dad didn't have health insurance.
Now, granted....he does now under Medicare. But he didn't before that. And I would venture a bet that, as a result of lack of understanding about how the system works and a fear that he'd lose what few assets he has in exchange for long-term care, he didn't give seeing a doctor a second thought.
This morning, I found out that my mother finally got my dad to a doctor yesterday. He's been diagnosed with advanced-stage Alzheimer's. There is little that can be done at this point, but now the bills will start to pile up, and I'd again bet that my mother, who has no income other than my father's Social Security, will "care" for him until she absolutely can't do it anymore in an effort to save the house.
Senator Reid, I know it's already too late for my dad. But he's also the second member of my immediate family with this awful disease. My brother or I may be next, and who's going to take care of US? How are WE going to afford our care? Am I going to be prescribed drugs I can't afford, or have to give up every last dollar and asset I've worked for my whole life in exchange for spending a few months in a nursing home? Or should I just take advantage of my state's assisted suicide law and save myself and everyone else the cash?
I'm so ashamed of what you just did. But my last bet of this diary is that you aren't. And that's pretty damned pathetic.