I'm thirty-one. I graduated from college in 2000, did a year of "national service" in AmeriCorps, and then 9-11 happened. I tried to get a real job, thinking that someone would surely hire me with my expensive education, blond(ish) hair and tailored suits. Surely. But, no, I scrapped a few dollars together in the next few years, working in a dirty restaurant and lowly social-service jobs. Health insurance? Not even an option. I could barely make my student loan payments. In desperation, I moved to Colorado and got a job working in the fancy Ritz-Carlton world. I learned how the upper crust thrive, and I received dental care from a guy who fixed movie-stars teeth. Six glorious months of health insurance; awesome.
Returning to the Northwest greys, I got a job at another hotel but had to wait 3 months for health insurance to start. Two weeks before my insurance kicked in, I got a horrible spider bite which became so infected that my leg couldn't fit into pants. Despite the nasty wound and visible infection line up my femoral artery, I refused to go to the doctor. I feared the huge emergency room bill. I could've died, but a friend-of-a-friend, a natropath, saw me for free and got me on a cheap antibiotic and homeopathic meds. I survived and the wound healed. (Now I wouldn't think of sacrificing my life for the fear of an ER bill, but at the time I felt terrified and desperate.)
Around that same time, also uninsured, my brother had a terrible ear infection. He didn't go to the doctor until his eardrums were literally bleeding. The ER visit and antibiotics cost thousands of dollars, which he faithfully paid off in small increments over many months. His hearing never fully recovered.
Several years later, I decided to leave Portland and move home to Omaha for a couple months before Nick and I moved to Japan. I quit my job (with great benefits) and figured that I could coast without health insurance for the two months before my Japanese insurance began. A week later, I found out I had a situation that needed surgery and biopsies. I had no insurance. If I did have cancer, I would be screwed. Blessedly, the Creighton Medical Center completely covered all my expenses, supported by some national funds for low-income women needing treatment for breast or gynecological cancers. The surgeries were traumatic, but the costs were covered. I am grateful.
As I think about my early adulthood, I know that the timing of the post-9-11 economic crash and the increasing costs of healthcare has affected my life in real ways. Some 40- and 50-somethings complain about the difficult economy, and for good reason. But my entire adulthood (a decade so far) has felt like a recession. I think that many people my age feel this way.
In a
NYT Op-Ed about being "thirtysomething", 31-year-old Porochista Khakpour writes:
"I’m part of the Peter Pan-ish Gen-X final trickle — and what do we know about growing up? My friends are all broke, say “whatever” too much, still live in Converses and constant hangovers, still yell at their parents on the phone and two seconds later ask for money and possibly a place to crash, are still deferring college loans and say everything is the new something-else, including the 30s, which are the new 20s. The economy is in crisis, and they don’t care; they have become Zen about debt, having been impoverished, if trust-fund-less, since they got out of college at the beginning of the millennium, a time of tragedy and war and turmoil, their entire 20s devoured by someone they refer to only by a twangy iteration of his middle initial."
My point? I'm not saying that I deserve to live on the dole because my life has been tough. I'm not blaming W for
everything.
But I am saying that this country needs healthcare reform. We need single-payer health insurance. And, without question, there should be a public option for health insurance as part of this healthcare reform. I have traveled to many countries that have successful nationalized healthcare models (Australia, Japan, Germany). I've been all over this globe and I can tell you that my international friends find our quality-of-life absolutely shocking. Most countries of the world have nationalized health insurance. Most people in the developed world do not fear illness like we do. European, Australian and Canadian students are not weighed down by inconceivable college loan payments for two decades after graduation. There are better ways to do it. Wake up, America. Stop bombing other people. Start spending the money to help our people live.
