One Small Person

Dear United Healthcare,

You've called my bluff. 

I understand. We're very expensive for you. Families like mine cut into your bottom line. Even though we pay a premium for our coverage every month, you must pay far more for my daughter's chronic illness than you will ever see a return on. 

But, you're a billion dollar a year company. We are a single-income family of 5 with a chronically ill child. 

I'll be honest. My husband makes "good" money by national standards. He's also a small business owner and a lot of that money goes back into the company. A LOT of that money goes toward healthcare. We've liquidated all the investments we had before we had our daughter. We've exhausted our savings investing in his business - a move we thought would help us get ahead, save for retirement, be able to provide consistent healthcare for our children (especially with our eldest daughter's health costs being so high, and the cost of health care rising). We've paid down debt only to incur it again. And again. And again.

I feel bad even complaining about our situation sometimes, because I know it could be worse. I know there are people out there who have it far, far worse than we do. In fact, we have it pretty damn good by some comparisons. And, who doesn't have something on their plate that's overwhelming them? I try my best to help others when I can, too. I'm grateful that I can do that, and for what I have. I'm sure that even you, United Healthcare, have your problems.

But, the fact is, even though my husband has a "good" job and makes "good" money, we don't live in a flashy house. We live in a very modest neighborhood on the outskirts of Baltimore city. Where there was a shooting down the road at a night club just this past weekend, 2 blocks from our home. Where there are often search lights from low-flying helicopters looking for suspects. Where I am wary of sending my kids to public school because there is gang activity even in the lower grades, and I can't afford private school. We don't drive expensive vehicles. We don't take extravagant vacations - though we were fortunate enough to get to go on a "Make-A-Wish" trip to Disney World last April. I shop at consignment stores and thrift shops.  We don't have a bunch of fancy appliances or gadgets. We don't even have a TV in our living room. We do have some outdated, overpriced furniture that we bought about 10 years ago when we were both working and before we had kids. I invite you to come to my house and sit on the stained couch and admire the awesomeness that is my unfinished, toy-littered living room, or the leak on the ceiling from the upstairs shower that we can't afford to fix. 

What I'm trying to express is that we don't really live high on the hog, so to speak.  Nor do I wish we could. I try not to place a lot of emphasis on things.

I do place a large emphasis on health, diet and exercise. I feel that, particularly with my daughter's health, it's extremely important that we practice preventative care in this way, so as not to invite any additional health complications to compound the existing ones and start healthy habits early. Interestingly, I get numerous emails from your organization about how I should eat less processed foods and walk more. Thanks for that.

So... back to calling my bluff. You're right - I don't have the money to fight you, even though my husband makes "good" money. And you're making sure of that by denying more and more claims, making it confusing to figure out why and charging us our deductible more than once in our policy year. 

No, I can't afford to pay a lawyer or an agency to help me. I'm having trouble getting my paperwork together to report you to the state agencies and Attorney General because I'm a mom of three, with little support on that front, and you've really made a mess of the paperwork. It's difficult to untangle in order to document it properly. It takes time and focus - neither of which I have in abundance. 

To be honest, some days, I think if I DID have the money I would pay the bills and just put it behind me while I look for a new insurance carrier and pay crazy-high premiums for an individual plan (because the Affordable Health Act wouldn't cover much more than United does). But I don't have the money. And the bills keep piling up. And you've done something wrong. 

So, I'm sorry to cause you all this grief on social media. I really hope you don't drop us, because that would leave my daughter with a lapse in coverage and subject to preexisting condition clauses. But, all I can do is fight. Pinch my pennies, put my groceries on my credit card this month and pray I'm taking too much out for taxes. Reheat my coffee, try to be patient with my children who have been deprived of my attention and make call after call after call. Try to sort through your mess and get enough documentation together to prove that you're WRONG.

Dear United Healthcare... Do you have children? Do you have wives? Mothers? What would you do if you, or they, were in this situation? Have you ever been faced with the thought of possibly losing your home? Not being able to get your child a life-sustaining medicine or treatment? Has your life ever been so insignificant to someone? Because there are thousands of us out there who are in this situation right now because of organizations like yours. 

I think Dr. Seuss said it best when he said, "A person's a person, no matter how small." 

I'm a person, United Healthcare. My Daughter is a person. We're not numbers in your bottom line. 

I think that, if history has shown us anything, one person can effect change. 

So please remember that, United Healthcare. As you tuck your young children into bed at night, remember that they are each ONE PERSON. That you are ONE PERSON. 

One. Small. Person.

And so am I.