I first wrote this in December 2003. In looking through some old personal writings I came upon it this afternoon and found that, unfortunately, it’s still relevant:
This morning my friend Brandon called me. And as I write this, two hours later, I am fighting back tears of frustration and sadness.
I first met Brandon about 3 years ago. Twenty years my junior he was a skinny, blonde 17 year old who was living in the apartment next door when my partner and I moved to Tampa from Chicago. He himself had only recently moved to live with his dad and stepmom, along with her two kids, after spending the majority of his life living with his mom in Virginia.
Brandon is a sweet, well meaning kid, but had trouble with school – he’d dropped out in Virginia and despite going back in Tampa he eventually dropped out again. His dad put him to work, but the job fell through and then his Dad packed up and moved to Texas about a year later. Brandon moved out on his own – eventually going to Texas for a while and then returning to Tampa. He ultimately got a job with Walmart – where he could support himself as long as he worked a lot of overtime and watched his spending.
Over the last couple of years my partner and I have ended up being sort of unofficial "uncles" to Brandon. We listened to his girlfriend problems, laughed at the idea that he thought he had a 42" waist when he went to be fitted for his prom tux (he wore sagging jeans that were way too big for him – the kid had no more than a 29" waist), worried that there wasn’t anyone really paying much attention to him. He stayed with us for about a month when he first came back from Texas and was looking for work. He finally found a job pushing carts for Walmart and found a cheap apartment with roommates close to work. He was so proud of himself the last time he dropped by a few months ago. He was doing well at his job and was trying to figure out what to do about his insurance options.
Brandon was struggling to get by on the money he made at Walmart – and really didn’t want to have to pay additional money for health insurance. They were offering their hourly workers one of those huge deductible "major medical" plans (which he really couldn’t afford) and a more normal HMO plan (which he absolutely couldn’t afford). I tried to convince him to go ahead and take one of the plans anyway – but he just couldn’t see how he could pay for it and continue to pay his rent, electric and food. He was already doing without a phone to save money. He spoke of eating nothing but frozen Jeno mini-pizzas – since he really couldn’t afford anything else. My partner and I fed him and told him to let us know if there was anything we could do to help.
Well – the Walmart economy has now claimed another victim. Since he didn’t have a phone – and now lived 40 minutes away from us – my partner and I hadn’t talked to him in a while. Brandon just got out of intensive care. After becoming weak and disoriented (and losing more than 40 pounds in a year) his uncle dragged him to the hospital. He had been having problems with his eyesight for more than a week but hadn’t told anyone. He was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes and a blood sugar count in the stratosphere.
No health insurance. A major "pre-existing" condition at age 21. Hadn’t seen a doctor – because he couldn’t afford it – in years. And instead of benefiting from preventative care he almost died. Since there is no way he can ever pay the hospital bill I know that some government agency will end up paying it. The bill will be far more than if he had been covered – since he was so sick by the time he sought help.
Brandon will probably have to leave Florida and go back to live with his father in Texas. He will need someone to keep an eye on him as he learns to live with his illness. He will undoubtedly be at the mercy of whatever pathetic public services are available in Texas. My guess is that he will have many other health emergencies that won’t be prevented because of his own finances.
When are we going to admit that the current health care system is badly broken? That "the market" DOES NOT WORK when we are talking about healthcare?
And that was as far as I got almost six years ago. I lost touch with Brandon a short time later. He moved back to Texas so that his father could help keep an eye on him. I lost my own job and health insurance, and my partner lost his battle with alcoholism, just a year or so later. And here we are 6 very long years later and we’re still fighting this battle. Brandon was a naïve, sweet and not necessarily brilliant kid just trying to figure the world out and his place in it. Proud that he was able to put a roof over his head and feed himself. I commented a lot in a diary a day or two ago arguing with a libertarian who essentially seemed to think everyone should just plan better – if they bought coverage when they were young and healthy then the current system would be just fine. Well, what about Brandon? Do we just flush the "Brandons" down the drain since they aren’t "productive" or "smart" or "prepared" enough when they get ill?
And to Brandon – although I don’t think you’ll ever see this – Muppet the dog and Michael have passed on, but they both loved you and so do I. And six years later I still worry.