Mr. Speaker, I submit the following stories, collected by Dr. Ogan Gurel. ``Tom described a situation in which he was buying two batteries for a scooter. Since he was paying out-of-pocket, they discounted the price $30 below the price they…
Mr. Speaker, I submit the following stories, collected by Dr. Ogan Gurel.
``Tom described a situation in which he was buying two
batteries for a scooter. Since he was paying out-of-pocket,
they discounted the price $30 below the price they charged
Medicare. `Something fishy is going on,' he said.'' Tom--
Chester, 7/14/2009
``I met Sharyn at the DaVinci salon. No, I wasn't going in
for a pedicure, which, with the condition my feet were in
wouldn't have been easy anyway. Actually, she peeked out the
door and asked, `Are you that doctor walking from Chicago to
DC?' and invited me in for a glass of water. Being busy with
clients, there was no opportunity to get any stories. But
they all were supportive of the Walk. `We sure need
healthcare reform,' Sharyn said, as her co-workers gathered
about along with the clients reclining in their chairs nodded
in agreement.'' Sharyn--Chester, 7/14/2009
``Gayla told me that she and her husband have been `very
lucky.' They've had employer-provided insurance through
Verizon--`pretty good insurance,' she told me. But Frontier
is buying the West Virginia assets of the company, so in the
transition, as she put it, they have no idea what it'll mean
for them. This is important because her stepson has cystic
fibrosis (CF). At age 23 he's a real survivor. He's done well
but lately, from an insurance standpoint, it's gotten very
complicated. Based on doctor's orders, he's strictly limited
to very light work, at a maximum of 30 hours a week. So
essentially, as Gayla told me, `He's stuck with a part-time
employment status. Insurance on his own is not a
possibility,' she added. `And he can't get SSI because he
actually can work a little.' And while Verizon promised to
cover him (as part of their employer-based coverage) even
into adulthood, Gayla and her husband don't know if that
agreement will be honored by the new company. She doubts that
it will be. It sounds like there are so
many cracks in the system, I said. `Yes. It's a real problem.
And it's not abstract--my son's life depends on it.' ''
Gayla--Hagerstown, 7/22/2009
`` `I've got no money for insurance,' Shirley, working
behind the counter at Reeve's marketplace, told me. `Just
Medicare, pretty healthy, I'm lucky.' She told me how she
didn't sign up for the AARP prescription medication plan. `It
didn't make sense,' she said. `AARP wasn't really paying and
they seemed to be getting the higher priced drugs anyway.' ''
Shirley--Hookstown, 7/14/2009
``As I entered Pittsburgh, Deb, working the counter at the
Miley's BP convenience store, told me she has no insurance.
She'll only go to the doctor if absolutely necessary.
`Basically,' she told me, `healthcare is just not available.'
'' Deb--Pittsburgh, 7/15/2009
``Robin, whose smile brightened up my day after a long day
walking, told me the story about her girlfriend in Chicago.
`She was doing well, but then lost her job. She lost her
health insurance and last year, at age 50, was diagnosed with
multiple myeloma.' So how did she deal with that? `Well, she
had to come up with $689/month for her insurance, the
hospital would not provide healthcare otherwise.' As her
condition got even more serious, all of their mutual friends
and sorority sisters (Delta Sigma Phi) have been raising
funds and sending her money for her care. `I guess,' Robin
told me, `if it wasn't for us, she could be dead.' She said
it without ego or braggadocio but rather out of sadness (even
with our bright smile) that it had to be that way.'' Robin--
Pittsburgh, 7/15/2009
``Rhonda returned to Pennsylvania to take care of her
elderly family. She's had self-pay insurance via Highmark,
the major insurer in the Pittsburgh market. `It's alright so
long as you don't get sick.' Regarding the recent debates in
Congress, she also added, `If you believe anything those
execs put out, then you're a fool.' She had a situation last
year of right upper-quadrant abdominal pain. She went to the
ER, which was an ordeal. They started the work-up, a GI
consult, surgical consult, ultrasound, HIDA scan were ordered
and was admitted for overnight observation. She told me all
the tests returned negative. And then, Highmark ended up
denying the $7,000 for the hospital stay and all the
radiology consults deeming that it was all medically
unnecessary. `There was no way for me to know they wouldn't
cover it.' The hospital called for pre-approval, but the
insurance company still had denied it. But Rhonda fought it,
saying either the hospital was practicing fraudulent medicine
or the company was wrong. `They finally backed-off and paid.'
Rhonda also described a story from a friend of hers who
worked as a dental assistant. She had attended a conference
on billing which the whole point of which was how to bill so
the insurance company could deny the claim: what diagnostic
categories to use, etc. The percentage of people who would
not fight was estimated at 70%.'' Rhonda--Pittsburgh, 7/16/
2009
``As an ambulance driver, John definitely notes that, `the
uninsured come to us in a more severe state. They don't have
a family doctor and so in the ER people end up having to wait
more because these critically ill patients come in.' He told
me it was not uncommon for them to wait six months to a year
before seeking any medical attention.'' John--Braddock, 7/16/
2009
``As an EMT, Christina's seen diabetics without medications
coming into the ER two to three times a week because their
sugar gets out of whack. They really don't have any health
care access otherwise.'' Christina--Braddock, 7/16/2009
``Zenobia has to see a doctor regularly for her
prescriptions. `It's really hard, because I have no
insurance,' she said. `And I work hard. But since I'm part-
time, Medicaid says I'm not eligible.' But since she's
working only 25 hours a week, she doesn't apparently qualify
for insurance through her employer either. `According to
Medicaid, you're working,' she said. But according to her
employer, `You're not working.' The cracks in the system she
was facing, seemed, from her expression, to be more like
gaping chasms, with no way out. When she heard public
assistance was no longer available for her, she called them,
crying, `Why have I been dropped?' To which they answered,
`You make more than $200 a month.' So she makes do with a
hodge-podge of different programs and deals. She's able to
keep her medication bill down to $60 a month because the
pharmacy has a special plan but her various other medical
bills have accumulated to close to $6,000. `It's all a mess,
all so complicated,' she told me. 'And if I really get hurt,
I'm pretty much screwed.' '' Zenobia--North Braddock, 7/16/
2009
``At the tail end of a monstrous thunderstorm, seeking some
shelter, even though I was soaking wet anyway, I met Mary at
the Wendy's just west of Greensburg. She was there with her
daughter and grandson. We talked about the Walk and about
health care reform. Mary shared with me the story of her son,
Jim. `He works in a plant nursery. He's got no insurance but
suffers from sympathetic dystrophy, you know what that is,
right?' Yes, I replied. `He's self-pay but basically he just
suffers in pain. It breaks my heart.' '' Mary--Greensburg, 7/
17/2009
`` `You can reach out for help, but if you have no health
insurance you're nobody.' That's how Rebecca concluded the
story she told me about the death of her boyfriend. It's a
complicated story but basically the 24-year-old was off and
on in a Methadone rehab program. He was doing well in rehab
when his treatment was about 1/2 done, his insurance ran out.
Because of this, `The rehab facility, kicked him out,'
Rebecca told me. She explained how, with withdrawal symptoms
kicking in, he arrived home very sick. Two days later, near-
comatose he was taken to the hospital where he was admitted
to the ICU with liver failure but, according to Rebecca,
they, `really didn't do anything.' At the time of his death,
she said, with incredulity, that the staff was joking in
front of her, laughing even. The trauma continued, even after
his death. She described how the coroner came in and started
accusing people. `Then a doctor arrived, and asked if the
decedent had insurance.' Rebecca shook her head. `No, I
answered. And the doctor asked if I wanted to see the body. I
said, yes, but he told me that they had taken it away to make
room for the next body.' Rebecca told me it was all very
sarcastic and cruel. But the nightmare was not over. Then the
bills started arriving. They were not married but the rehab
center (which kicked him out) and the hospital demanded
payment. `They fraudulently indicated that I signed the
bills,' said Rebecca. `It's been two years now and they're
still sending bills. Between the doctor and the financial
games, I never had a chance to grieve over his death.'
Rebecca's eyes saddened as I asked her to sign for her
consent. `You can reach out for help, but if you have no
health insurance you're nobody.' '' Rebecca--Greensburg, 7/
17/2009
``Ryan is a young American. 24 years old, sporting an
unassuming t-shirt and buzz cut, he exudes a personality
simultaneously reserved and forthright. He has a gracious
smile, offered with a twist of the head but then when he
looks at you, with a piercing gaze, his face turns serious.
As a writer, he seeks to deeply understand people, yet some
things, like healthcare insurance, elude even his keen
comprehension. Brought up in a family who never had health
insurance, Ryan is, nevertheless, a man with energetic
ambitions. After an early honorable discharge from the Army--
for medical reasons--and a fruitless search for a job, he is
working to finish his first novel, Ever Street Road, a
parable, as he calls it, for the choices in life that one
makes. Yet, in this great country, bursting with infinite
possibility, Ryan has few, if any, choices. Infinitude meets
finitude--this is America. The future is but an illusion. Not
knowing whether there will be healthcare for all or only
healthcare for some, Ryan and I, sharing dinner, are focused
on the present and the past. This is the only thing we truly
know. The future, a future where the young ambitions of
earnest, yet thwarted souls, might reach their full
potential, is only a dream. Reality is how I met Ryan and
what brought him to run up the hill to meet me on US 30 as
18-wheelers thundered past. Just east of North Versailles,
about 25 miles beyond my initial walking point, the last few
miles trundled on through with pain. My feet--a jumble of
collapsing arches, exploding blisters, and hemorrhaging nail
beds--were beyond rebellion. I would have ordinarily arranged
a pick-up to take me to the next hotel--now about eight miles
east--but this had not materialized. And the transport for
the bag--the 70 pound suitcased monstrosity--from which I
live, had not been arranged. And despite the physical
tribulations of walking nearly 24 miles a day, the most
challenging part of the Walk has been the logistics. Lodging,
pick-up (often the bunk down place is not necessarily on my
walking route), and bag transport had all to be arranged. If
any one of these elements fell through, the Walk would come
to a standstill. At this point, I was not worried so much
about that. With the sun now setting, knowing that I would
soon be walking in the dark--the time when sounds become more
important than sights--I was worried about my survival,
concerned about arriving at the motel--if I made it at all--
well after midnight. At the bottom of the hill, I had stopped
at a McDonald's to replenish myself with water and recharge
my phone batteries. I slipped on my safety vest and grimly
headed up the hill. A young man, gasping for breath, came up
beside me. Cars rushed by and instinctively motioned him
towards the narrow shoulder. `Are . . . are you Doctor
Gurel?' he asked, wide-eyed, disbelieving. I was on the
phone, still working feverishly to arrange transport of my
bag. Too tired to be surprised, I smiled at him, and nodded.
`I was following you on Twitter and . . . and I just had to
come and meet you.' I hung up the phone, and out of habit
continued on forward, as the young man joined me. `I'm Ryan,
Ryan Trump,' he added. Oh yes! From Facebook! `Yes,' he said,
his face twisting, searching for words to describe a
situation for which there was no precedent. `Wow, I can't
believe this.' What? `That I met you here.' I chuckled.
`Crazy, isn't it?' Ryan and I had exchanged some e-mails
during the past few weeks on Facebook, and it was strange
indeed that an entirely electronic friendship had
materialized here on the not-so-isolated Lincoln Highway east
of Pittsburgh. And so we talked--talked with amazement about
the GPS tracking technology that had brought Ryan to my very
spot. We talked about healthcare. But I had to interrupt him.
Ryan, I have a problem. `What's that?' My motel is about
seven miles up, in Irwin. I have no pick-up to get there.
Could you help out? `That's the least I can do!' I smiled
weakly. Deliverance, in the form of Ryan Trump, shy but
forthright, gracious but ambitious, had arrived. I was
grateful for the wonders of technology and even more for the
grace of initiative and real, not electronic, fellowship. And
so, after a couple of hours of back-and-forth driving, Ryan
and I
delivered the suitcase and myself to the motel in Irwin. But
that was the present. The following evening I had dinner with
Ryan and we talked about the past. The present and the past:
while this is what we know, we spoke out of hope for the
future. A future with healthcare for all, and not just for
some. A future where the imagined infinitude of possibilities
cross with the crushing reality of no possibility. `My family
has never had health insurance,' Ryan told me. `My father
worked in maintenance at the hospital for 36 years. And we
never had health insurance but we could get care through the
hospital.' That's good, I replied. `Then the hospital closed,
back in 2006, and he got laid off . . . but he was close to
retirement anyway.' So what do you do now? `It's difficult.
My mom's got a heart condition, had a heart attack back in
2000. You know it could always happen again. She's got four
types of drugs.' How do you pay for it? `It's all out-of-
pocket.' But you told me that you had troubles with the bank.
`That's just the way it goes--you pay for the medications
when you can.' I shook my head. And how about for you? What's
it like to not have insurance? Ryan, who would usually look
straight at me with those forthright, almost aggressive eyes,
glanced down. `Well, you got aches and pains, but you think,
do I deal with the pain or do I go to the hospital and suffer
accumulated debt? I'm 24 years old and my credit score is
probably garbage. Can't do anything in life with that, you
know.' I figured, listening between the lines, that Ryan had,
in fact, gotten some healthcare, and the `accumulated debt'
he had referred to was real. How's the asthma? I asked. (This
was the reason for the honorable, medical discharge from the
service.) `Oh, that's not too bad. But there was this other
situation.' What was that? Ryan thought for a moment, then
looked up. `Well, I had a lump,' he said, pointing below the
table. 24 year old young man, I realized that he was likely
referring to testicular cancer--a condition made widely known
by Lance Armstrong's experience, and survival. Did you get it
checked out? `Well, I was holding off for the longest time.
But it was quickly getting bigger.' My heart sank, but the
fact of the rapid enlargement, encouragingly suggested to me
that it wasn't cancer. And? `So I did go to the doctor
eventually.' Ryan smiled and sighed. `He said it was some
sort of hydrocele.' Oh yes, that's good news. `They did an
ultrasound . . . and, of course, I got all the bills. There
was no way I could pay for them so I didn't even open them
up.' An odd mix, a contradiction even, that with the
wonderful news--namely that one did not have cancer--there
came delivered a message of debt peonage that inspired even
more despair than the dreaded diagnosis itself. It was almost
as if the healthcare system itself was the cancer.'' Ryan--
Greensburg, 7/17/2009
``Bob has worked for the government for 44 years. He told
me that he's always had health insurance (BC/BS via the
government plan). `Why is it not possible to make that
available to all?' he wondered. `It's the same plan as that
for Congressmen and Senators.' He added that it was a big
pool and that `it would bring in younger people, make the
insurance for all more affordable.' But, he explained, `It's
different with corporate America. I'm retired now but I still
get the same coverage as those who are still employed in
government.' '' Bob--Greensburg, 7/18/2009
``Terry's here in Greensburg visiting from Philadelphia.
She shared with me the story of her mother's untimely death,
which resulted, in her estimation, from a nightmarish
confluence of administrative barriers and inhumane insurance
policies. The story goes as follows. Her mother underwent a
liver biopsy. This was on a Friday. As Terry explained to me,
'She was done as an outpatient, but even though the surgeon
said it was complicated, with bleeders, she was not permitted
by her insurance to stay overnight.' She returned home for
the weekend. On Sunday, she went to the emergency room with
escalating pain but was sent home again being told it was a
gallbladder problem. The pain still unbearable, she returned
to the ER within three hours. `From what we learned,' Terry
said, `there was a blood clot pressing on the bile duct.' She
progressed rapidly downhill from there ending up three-and-a-
half weeks in the ICU (battling sepsis). Six weeks after the
biopsy she died. Terry finished the story. `If only the
insurance had been more flexible, had considered true medical
necessity, in observing my mother the first night after her
procedure, perhaps she would still be with us now.' ''
Terry--Greensburg, 7/19/2009
`` `I haven't had health insurance since '92,' Ed told me,
when I asked him if he had any healthcare stories. `That's
when Bethlehem Steel closed down--so, no insurance, for me.'
I nodded. I can understand. I don't have insurance either. I
don't think Ed really heard me as he continued, `I'm glad I'm
healthy because if not, I'd be dead.' Ed plays quite a bit of
soccer (he's wearing his soccer t-shirt now) and he told me
of an injury he had a few years back. He got hit pretty hard
at a soccer game at the Y. `Got myself a gash on my head and
some sort of shoulder injury.' And so he went to the
emergency room. When he told them he lacked insurance, Ed
told me that the doctor basically said, `Stitch him up and
send him home.' Ed had an angry look on his face. `I got 27
stitches but they did nothing about my shoulder.' I suppose I
could understand his displeasure as with all that he got a
bill for $2,300. `I still haven't paid it, and I never will
be able to,' he said. Despite these distressing stories, Ed
was not really as sour as his tale would make him to be. We
talked about quite a few other topics and he wished me well
on my journey, closing in now, on Washington, DC.'' Ed--
Stoystown, 7/19/2009
``Karl, a volunteer Ambassador at the Flight 93 Memorial,
told me he doesn't believe in a government-run system.
According to him, the free-market is the best though he
acknowledged that having insurance linked to employment was a
problem. `Empower the individual,' Karl explained to me. So
how about your own situation, I asked. `We're not well-to-
do,' he said. `I get my health insurance from the state, a
plan called Special Care which is in between Medicaid and
private insurance.' And how's it going with that? `Very well
actually,' he answered. `It's not connected to employment
status so I have the freedom to change jobs without changing
my health coverage.' [On a side note, Karl, in his
presentation to the thirty some-odd gathered visitors at the
memorial explained how about $40 million more was needed to
complete the permanent Flight 93 Memorial. I recalled how
anti-reform industry groups were spending (as reported by the
Wall Street Journal) about $1.4 million a day in their
selfish and grasping efforts to thwart (or worse manipulate)
healthcare reform. That means that about a month of that
spending (the time it took for me to walk from Chicago to DC)
would cover the remaining cost of the Memorial--a tribute, as
most know, to Americans who gave the last full measure of
sacrifice for their fellow citizens.]'' Karl--Shanksville, 7/
19/2009
``Kay's a part-owner of a small business--all of three
people. Because of the high cost of health insurance, the
deductibles, and all that, 'they've got no discretionary
income,' she told me. They're with Highmark and the premium
went up $100 a month within the past few months alone. Her
husband has had two heart surgeries (done at the Cleveland
Clinic). The cost was $4,000 a day but they ended up paying
$700. `That was a relief,' she said. `But we're lucky. We can
afford healthcare insurance--barely--but that leaves us with
no extra money.' Clearly up-to-date on various health reform
proposals, she added, `It would be nice if I could deduct it
as a tax credit. But here's the real problem,' Kay continued.
`If my husband--or I--couldn't work then we wouldn't be able
to maintain the income to pay for any insurance. How will we
be able to pay for health insurance when we actually need it
most? That's what doesn't make sense.' I was readying to
leave when Kay interrupted. `One more thing. I think much of
these premium monies are being wasted.' How so? I asked. `I
went to a Pirates game and they were giving out free
bobblehead dolls. Guess who sponsored all that?' Who?
`Highmark. That's where health insurance premiums go--to
advertising.' And so my experience came full circle as I
recalled the giant Highmark billboards scattered among
Pittsburgh's downtown when I had been there four days
earlier.'' Kay--Bedford, 7/20/2009
``I met with Eric in Jim's living room (at the home where I
stayed that night). Jim had invited several neighbors to stop
by for a discussion of healthcare reform and Eric was
gracious enough to share his story with me. First, he does
not have health insurance. He looked into it, reviewed the
policies from three companies and saw that there was
essentially no difference among them. `It was 80/20 coverage
and no doctors were covered,' he told me. The premiums
started off at $300 a month and went up to $900 a month
within a year. `Worse than the cable company!' And so he
dropped the coverage. As it turns out, Eric did have a
serious health issue last year--a pituitary adenoma (a form
of benign, but still very dangerous, brain tumor). One
morning he woke up nearly blind--all he could see was a tiny
pin-prick of light (an extreme form of a condition called
`tunnel vision'). He had himself taken to the emergency room.
To make a long story short, he was treated at UPMC. He told
me `Hershey refused to talk because he had no insurance.'
Being without insurance, he now, after all was said and done,
owed $160,000. He was able to make deals with the doctors but
the hospital, he told me, `was never cooperative--a monster
to deal with. And there was no negotiation.' He told me about
his ongoing struggles with the hospital. `And the billing was
so strange,' he added. As someone who checks things out
carefully, he told me how an MRI at UPMC cost $7,000 but the
same scan, on the same machine, cost $2,000 in the nearby
town of Altoona. `And a single Tylenol pill cost $10! It's a
crazy system.' '' Eric--Bedford, 7/20/2009
``Gloria is the owner of Hollinshead grocery. She told me
how the grocery, a family business, has been in Harrisonville
for over a hundred years. Being self-employed, she hasn't had
health coverage for more than twenty years, ever since her
husband's company went out of business. `It's just too
expensive to get insurance being self-employed,' she told me.
Three years ago, her husband had a heart attack and died. She
explained that paying for his care, even in the midst of
grieving, was not easy. `A Harrisburg doctor accepted a
payment plan,' and she also applied for Hill-Burton funds to
pay for testing and other hospital costs. `Things were not
easy,' she added, with a touch of melancholy.'' Gloria--
Harrisonville, 7/21/2009
``Mike, a customer at Hollinshead's Grocery, lost his job
at Caterpillar in February and is now without insurance.
`COBRA was much too expensive,' he said. His unemployment
check was $325 a week and health coverage cost over $400 a
month. His children,
`fortunately,' he told me, are covered through the state
(ACCESS program). He seemed calm as he explained this
predicament. `My wife just got diagnosed with Lyme disease,
though--a tick-bite right here in our back yard.' Eyes perked
up among the others sitting about the grocery. He told me,
`We're paying cash for the lab bill.' It had originally been
$307 but they were able to get it discounted to $187. `The
doctor's bill was $80--and that's just for the diagnosis,' he
added. `For the actual treatment, we're dependin' on free
samples.' '' Mike--Harrisonville, 7/21/2009
``Martin has been out-of-work since last year. `Obviously I
have no insurance,' he said. He has insulin-dependent
diabetes and gets some healthcare through the Pennsylvania
ACCESS card. He explained that, `If I go back to work,
however, I'll lose my medical care.' That's a disincentive to
work, I said. `Sure is . . . I need to stay under twenty
hours a week to get medical care. If I work more, there's no
job, no way I could pay for the healthcare and medicines. I
can't just drop the insulin.' '' Martin--Harrisonville, 7/21/
2009
`` `I would call myself a fiscal conservative,' Jim told me
as we sat together discussing healthcare in his living room.
`I believe that health savings accounts, HSAs, and patient
involvement in the decisions will be important to bring costs
under control.' He added that in his experience, once health
benefits are provided, it's `very difficult to backtrack.'
He's worked in government for 32 years and is currently
retired. `Personally, I think the government plan, if made
available to all, would work well. I think that would be easy
to implement. It allows choice, there's already a mechanism
to collect premiums and there could be some income tiering.'
'' Jim--Bedford, 7/21/2009
`` `I think that it's possible to have a very basic plan as
a public good.' Jo told me she's seen examples of that and
she `believes it's a good use of taxpayer money.' But she
also realizes how it could get out-of-hand. `It all depends
on how and what ``basic'' is defined as,' she said.
`Sometimes that's too abstract.' '' Jo.--Bedford, 7/21/2009