Sunday, December 22, 2024

Health Insurance and Other Deadly Things

 My hearing aid beeped this morning signaling it was time for a battery change. Ugh. For the past several months I have fought with the child-resistant packaging— risking slicing my not-so-nimble fingers trying to engage an ordinary size scissor into the plastic encasing a pinkie finger size button battery. I was alerted about this problem by my audiologist who mentioned the packaging would be more difficult to open and dispense due to the death of a child from ingesting one of these teeny batteries. How could something that has brought me the joy of interacting with the world— hearing the chirping birds, buzzing bees, chatter of friends—how could an object that changed my life for the better be the cause of unimaginable grief to a family? 

Today I looked up that child. I learned her name, I saw her photos. Reese Elizabeth Hamsmith was an adorable, active, fill-the-room child. She swallowed a button battery at the age of 17 months.  She endured multiple surgeries and procedures and died at the age of 18 months in December of 2020. Her mom, Trista, created an organization called Reese's Purpose to "identify, advocate and correct safety issues impacting children and their families." And what a job they have done! President Biden signed Reese's Law in August of 2022. The bill was introduced in the Senate by lead sponsors Richard Blumenthal and Marsha Blackburn — a most unlikely pairing. In announcing the bills bipartisan passage they used familiar phrases: "common-sense legislation"  and "families can have greater peace of mind."

I will happily struggle opening my hearing aid battery packaging  knowing that it is intended to protect the lives of children with much curiosity and busy hands. I applaud the efforts of Reese's Purpose and wish the organization great success as they expand the scope of their child safety mission. I extend deep sympathy to the Hamsmith's on the loss of their beautiful child. 

And yet, I cannot shake the feeling of outrage I have that politicians cannot come together in a bipartisan way to promote "common-sense legislation" and ensure "families can have greater peace of mind" when they drop off their children at school. When the slaughter at Sandy Hook took place I would've bet a lot of money that politicians could not look at those precious faces or into their parent's eyes without passing a common-sense gun safety law. But, it has happened again, and again, and again—to young and old, to churchgoers, synagogue attendees, shoppers, moviegoers...anywhere, everywhere, over and over— thoughts and prayers, thoughts and prayers, thoughts and prayers...No bipartisan action to really make a difference. No political will to tackle an industry that contributes millions to campaigns. 

Brian Thompson, CEO of United Healthcare, was gunned down on a NYC street on December 4th. Murdered. Some say "assassinated." Whatever the word; his life was taken. Tragic. Sincere condolences to the Thompson family and those who knew and loved him. 

In the media frenzy following his death it became clear that some people had little empathy regarding Mr. Thompson's fate. Many of those people were the victims or loved ones of victims who believed a death or great harm was done due to United Healthcare's denials of necessary care and treatment. Their stories are gut-wrenching. Heartbreaking.   A denial, a delay, a death. What do we call that? It's not a murder. I mean—it's not like someone gunned them down. But someone turned them down. Denied them care. Denied what they needed to treat pain or cancer or diabetes or epilepsy. Denied what they needed to live more comfortably, to live at all. What do we call this? Who do we hold accountable? How can Brian Thompson's death be called an act of terror (ostensibly because a class of people—CEOs)—are intimidated by this act and the deaths of innocents sitting in their classrooms are not in spite of the fact school shootings occur over and over and shooter drills are conducted routinely? Is this not an entire class of people that are intimidated? 

We have a problem Houston. The insurance industry is a huge donor to parties on both sides of the aisle. They are against Medicare for all (or anything similar). Their profits depend on saying no. They do not manage care. They manage money. When patients start to use up "resources" ($) that negatively impacts profit margins—and so delay and deny becomes the game plan. A deadly plan for some. But who reports death by insurance denial? What do we call it? 

What have I done here? Where am I going? I'm not quite sure. I know I have more questions than answers. I know that I devoted my professional life to caring for people—teaching wellness, administering treatments, mitigating pain, and promoting comfort when other measures were no longer effective. I have seen my share of death—held the hand of patients when they took their last breath, hugged family members and friends who lost someone. 

I do not understand how we as a nation can continue to value guns over lives and profits over health. I want us to find "common-sense" solutions. Given the division in the country, the incoming Administration and the vast amounts of money being funneled to Congress, I fear the victims of mass shootings and health insurance denials will not motivate politicians to act in the same way as a beautiful little girl who swallowed a button battery. I fear we are beyond caring when great sums of money are involved. I fear that we have truly lost our way. I hope to be proven otherwise.

Peace. 

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