I am not, in the least, a person one would describe as politically active or knowledgeable in any way. I try not to be naive about what is going on in our government or our world for that matter but I don’t take pride in the fact that I am not as versed in the world of politics as it pertains to me, as I should or would like to be. That is why I am surprised to find myself so impassioned to write about a subject I never questioned or realized was so defunct.

My husband and I were able to view the documentary by Michael Moore entitled Sicko before it was released in theaters, via the internet. So I have had a few weeks to let the movie’s message brew and I have been able to ascertain how this low-budget documentary could transform our failing healthcare system now that the average American has access to the facts. It is up to each one of us to elect the man or woman who can focus their attention on a system of healthcare that is in such dire straits that even receiving basic care is a joke. It is a poor representation of a nation that calls itself a Superpower.

I went through an array of emotions as I sat and watched how our government should be treating us. I was shocked, saddened, angry, worried, and then hopeful that maybe Michael Moore could have struck a resounding chord in peoples psyches, that maybe he could even bring about an evolution of change.

I knew that our healthcare system was in trouble but I did not ever think that the Americans who are fortunate enough to have healthcare are suffering along with the less fortunate who cannot afford their premiums or have been denied coverage for whatever reason the insurance company conjures up. I don’t know why I never took the time to think about it, as it affects our family directly in so many ways.

Our son Alijah was born 11 1/2 weeks early, and only 1 lb. 13 ounces, 13 inches long. He was a micro-preemie as small as could be. He fought hard and survived an under-developed lung, being intubated for 8 weeks, then on oxygen for another 11 weeks, dozens of transfusions, infections, sepsis, an abdominal surgery at 2 weeks old, and the handful of drugs he needed to be on after being discharged from the hospital 11 weeks later. He was a fighter, but when he was born, it was a shock to everyone, especially his Dad and I as we were not prepared. In any way.

We were so overwhelmed with emotion and using all of our energy to stay up day and night with Alijah we did not even think about how much each syringe, transfusion, test, was costing. All we knew was that Alijah needed all of those things in order to survive. We would figure out how it was to be paid for later.

I have to thank God for the wonderful staff and social workers at Tacoma General Hospital because when it came down to figuring out financial matters, they were on top of it all. I had been working up until the day that I delivered, and Andru had a full time job that provided insurance for all of us. We were not too worried since he did have insurance, Alijah would be covered on it as well.

Fortunately, or unfortunately I guess depending on how you look at it, Alijah was considered to be a preemie that was under I think it was around 800 or 900 grams, and if a baby is born under that weight, he or she is automatically able to claim disability. Alijah was approved for Medicaid and Social Security benefits. True the S.S. benefits were minimal, I think it paid for one tank of gas per month, but we needed all we could get as we were travelling about 140 miles some days—back and forth to the hospital and home.

The Medicaid benefits were what saved us from becoming bankrupt and literally out on the street with nothing but the clothes on our backs. All of Alijah’s medical bills were paid by the government, and I suppose taxpayers. Did we plan on having a child that someone else would have to take care of medically? No, we would always choose to have a child that did not have to go through the all the things Alijah had to at such a young and precious age.

After receiving all of the claims from the hospital showing the paid benefits, we figure that Alijah’s birth, and hospitalization, not accounting for all of the follow up visits as well as numerous specialists he has seen in his life, the roundabout total of his medical costs exceeded 2 million dollars. Yes I said 2, two, dos, deuce, million. I don’t know about the average family but I know that our average family would never be able to pay this bill. Never. So that leaves me to question, if Alijah had not been eligible for Medicaid, would he have been denied the excellent care that he received? Would the hospital have sent us packing, baby connected to tubes and smaller than a Barbie, if our insurance company denied coverage?

It makes me shudder to think of such a possibility…but people, wake up, watch Sicko; maybe they are not sending preemie babies packing, but there are similar stories of such gross misconduct by hospitals and insurance companies. This documentary rang true also in the fact that Mr. Moore focused on a couple, who worked all their lives, raised their children, all college graduates, and had health insurance when the husband had a heart attack, then I think 2 or 3 more, and then the wife was diagnosed with cancer. They had insurance, but with the premiums, and the deductibles, out-of-pocket expenses, and medication, it left this couple bankrupt, and having to sell their family home and move in with one of their children.

It was so heart-breaking to see this couple who had so much pride having to sell off many possessions and take what they could fit into their car and move into a storage room in their daughter’s house. This should not happen to anyone. Especially people that have worked all their lives, paid their taxes, and their insurance premiums. Why does our government allow this to happen? These are our mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers. We need to take care of one another. Wake up you politicians, this is happening in the United States of America. Watch Sicko and change how your citizens are being taken care of. Look to Canada, Paris, London, and heck even Cuba. Come on folks, even Cuba knows how to take care of their citizens. What is wrong with our country?

My mother, she has worked tooth and nail all her life to get a piece of the American Dream, whatever that may be. She worked as a waitress for most of her life as I watched and learned what it meant to have a good work ethic from her. She then put herself through cosmetology school even if it was difficult for her as she speaks English but has a tough time understanding some concepts. She moved out of state to chase her dream of opening up her own beauty salon. She eventually put her roots down in Florida, opening her very own nail salon, from the ground up. She designed it, picked out everything from the light fixtures, flooring, to the furniture. This was her baby.

She did not have it made after she realized her dream. She worked harder than ever. Seven days a week, over 10 hours a day most days. She had to get her salon off the ground. And had to keep it running and build clientele before she could relax a little. She was so proud, as we were of her because she had done it all pretty much by herself. She sent money back home to Vietnam and still does to this day. My mom was diagnosed with lung cancer in 2003. She is still fighting it. But now, she has lost her salon, and she and her husband are barely hanging on.

She was diagnosed, and was told that she would have to have her lung removed. After surgery she was back to work I believe a week later, showing her scar to anyone who wanted to see. My sister and I stayed with her for a while after her surgery to help out,but she could not be told to do anything, especilly if it was to stay in bed, and living on the West Coast, it is hard to know that she is struggling and there is a limit to what we can do.

My mother had to sell her salon after her surgery because she tried to go back to her routine, tried to make it work, but it was more than she could handle trying to recover from surgery and chemo. She had to sell the salon, her dream, her livelihood because she could not afford to take time off to recover. She had to go to work for the new owners when she felt well enough. I cannot imagine what it does to her, to this day, to walk into the place she built, to have to work for someone else. I know it has to break her heart everyday. Now, with the cost of all her meds, mounting medical bills, they will probably have to claim bankruptcy but she does not want to because she is a proud woman. They cannot even sell their home and move back west where all of their family is because the housing market is so bad.

I have to ask this, how does this happen? People get sick, it is a fact, but where is our government when we need them the most? My mother worked all her life for a dream, and that was lost when she became too sick to work. Why doesn’t our government take care of the citizens that pay their salaries? That vote them into office? Is our country that corrupt? I have to have hope, for my mother, and for our children.

Will National Healthcare ever come to fruition? Will our next elected President be the one to put a band-aid on our current system of healthcare? Will I, in my lifetime see a viable system in place for my children and grandchildren?  The pessimist in me believes it will never happen, that our government is too greedy, as the insurance companies reach into their deep pockets to shut down any notion of change.

The optimist in me sees this next election as a catalyst for change. There cannot be change if you or I think that we cannot make a difference. One voice is all it takes but you can move mountains with a nation that stands together.