Throughout grade school I was pretty much a female jock. I lived and breathed for game days and attended class just so I could participate.
I thrived upon physical contact, whether it was within the form of a lacrosse stick or a size five soccer ball. To me, there was never a better stress relief than the love of sports.
The only problem is I never had insurance.
It was the one thing that I felt had held me back. Being at risk seven days a week on the soccer field was too dangerous for my “health.”
Never being a member of the “upper class” and simply being a second generation American, funds were always low. Being abandoned by a father and under the supervision of a foreign mother lacking the ability to obtain a “real job,” I was at a loss.
Health insurance was not provided to a mere housekeeper, and if we were to acquire an insurance plan for a family of five, we would be working just for those health care benefits.
Money for food and clothes was a delusional fantasy and the costs just for two outweighed the combination of two monthly paychecks.
The sad truth is it seems that Americans are forced to spend more money on healthcare than necessities like housing or food.
So what did I do?
I purchased the cheapest form of insurance simply so I could write down on paper that I actually had a plan. But of course, as soon as soccer season was over, and I walked across that stage for graduation, the plan quickly diminished.
Shortly after, I made my way to UT, took the stereotypical collegiate rite of passage, and partied four days a week with a floor of girls’ right beside me. Along with the stresses of school and family, my life was anything but healthy.
To sum up a blurry semester, I ended up in the ER at Tampa General Hospital after throwing up blood-all without insurance.
Eight hours too many, apparently costs a grand total of $3,200, and without insurance, I was royally screwed.
See, situations like this plague the thirty-one million Americans lacking the luxury of health care.
Myself, along with those millions harvest lives that seem to be completely in shambles.
Slowly but surely, health reformation support is steadily building behind President Obama’s health care legislation to put Americans back in charge of their health.
“Obamacare,” the nickname given to the President’s solution, plans on providing health insurance that all-together lowers costs, provides choices for the carrier, and enhances the overall quality.
The proposal, worked on by the House and Senate, focuses on making such health care costs more affordable by utilizing tax cuts, stabilizing budgets, holding the insurers more accountable, expanding coverage and eliminating discrimination for those suffering with preexisting conditions.
Within this concept of socialized medicine comes the guiding principle that a form of “public option” will compete with private health insurance companies.
This new proposal, created within Obama’s first year in office, of course has its fair share of supporters and a large contradicting audience.
However, there is already a huge public plan in action that is similar in nature called Medicare. Essentially, the only difference is Medicare targets a differing demographic.
Obama, the man pushing this public option of health care reform exposes a slogan on his podium during speeches that his plan is “Health care our working families can afford.”
It seems that every single issue roots back to finances in some manner. I believe that the lack of health care indirectly encourages humanistic ignorance in terms of physical and/or mental health. Being unaware of any form of illness leads to future health risks and puts us at a huge disadvantage. Unfortunately, annual checkups are a foreign concept and I’ve learn to deal with pain over the years.
President Obama is proposing the ideal for someone like me, but perhaps the worst scenario for another. America is not the utopia many thrive to journey, but here’s hoping I can play soccer again without the fear of another hospital visit threatening to bankrupt my future.
Narisa Imprasert can be reached at nimprasert@ut.edu.