Two years ago, 36-year-old Lindsay Clark was facing a terrible decision.
Her 2-year-old daughter Lily had gotten into a small bottle of the anti-nausea drug Dramamine.
āIt had a child lock on it, but I caught her sitting there with a bunch of white stuff in her mouth,ā Clark says. āI immediately swept her mouth with my finger, but I wasnāt sure how many pills she ate.ā
Clark had to decide: Should she take Lily to the emergency room?
She called a poison control hotline and the answer was yes: A Dramamine overdoseĀ could lead to seizures. The little girl should be monitored. When Clark asked what doctors would likely do, she was told they would likely give her activated charcoal and possibly pump her stomach.
But Clark knew that the emergency room can beĀ expensive. A few months earlier, sheād gone to the emergency after falling down her friendās stairs. She ended up with a $1,200 bill that she still hadnāt paid.
āIām weighing my options,ā Clark says. āShe could have a seizure at any moment. It felt terrible, as a parent, to be in the position of having to do that.ā
Clark and her husband decided to give Lily some activated charcoal at home and drive to the emergency room. But they wouldnāt go inside.
Instead, they pulled their car into the second row of the parking lot, about 100 feet from the entrance. They start playingĀ The Little MermaidĀ on the carās TV screen for Lily to watch. And they waited.
āWe were just sitting there, facing the door and watching Lily,ā Clark says. āWe chose the second row because we wanted to be close to the entrance, but also trying to look inconspicuous.ā
The Clarks waited in the parking lot for a few hours, and Lily didnāt show any symptoms. They drove home without setting foot in the emergency room.
āI was sitting there thinking, am I a bad person?ā Clark says. āIām weighing my daughterās life against how much the bill is going to cost.ā
How rationing works in the United States
For more than a year, Iāve been investigating the opaque billing practices ofĀ emergency rooms in the United States. Iāve read more than 1,500 medical bills and talked with dozens of patients who sought care and ended up with a surprise bill, which range from aĀ $629 charge for a Band-AidĀ to aĀ $20,247 billĀ for a bicycle crash victim.
Many of these stories stuck with me. Large surprise medical bills can lead to financial ruin for typical patients with typical medical needs. But the Clarksā story has stuck with me like no other. I canāt imagine the fear and worry these two parents felt watching their 2-year-old daughter in the back seat of the car, monitoring her for signs of seizures, instead of taking her inside the ER.
The story captures how sky-high medical bills shape patientsā lives. Not only do the bills put patients in overwhelming debt, but they also affect the health care decisions patients make.
A common refrain around debates about reforming the health care system is the idea of rationing. But rationing is already at work in the United States. There are those who can afford the care they and their families need, and those who canāt ā because they worry about going broke from things like a single emergency room trip.
Americaās high prices are scaring patients away from using the emergency room
The Clarks arenāt alone. When IĀ tweetedĀ about their story, I heard from half a dozen other patients who said theyād made similar decisions or knew of patients who had.
Other families have waited in emergency parking lots and on curbs for fear of how much it would cost to step inside. Part of the problem is they just donāt know, even if they have insurance.
Iām a parent of a child with FPIES, a rare allergy syndrome that results in delayed onset of severe vomiting and dehydration that can suddenly overwhelm the body & result in shock.
Something similar happened in my family about 9 years ago. We sat on the curb outside the emergency room in case the situation got so bad life was at risk. Otherwise, the bills would’ve crippled my parents. We’re the greatest country?
Emergency room physicians and hospital administrators Iāve interviewed have sometimes made the case that they need to keep their prices private so patients donāt make decisions based on cost. They worry, for example, about the patient who needs a lifesaving treatment but says no when they get the price tag.
But hereās the thing: Keeping prices secret has consequences, too. Because patients going to the emergency room generally know two things: The priceĀ will likely be highĀ (as all American health prices are), and they wonāt be able to know what their treatment costs in advance.
And that leads families like the Clarks to make the decision not to seek medical care, even when a poison control hotline is urging them to do so.
āWhen you walk into the emergency room, youāre walking into an unknown amount,ā Clark says. āShe should have health care, as a child. Children should not be put in these situations.ā
One in five Texans are uninsured. The Clarks are among them.
For nearly all her life, Lindsay Clark had health insurance. But that changed in 2017 when she left her job at a large oil company to stay home with her two children.
Her husbandās employer, an HVAC repair company, did offer a plan to Clark and the kids. But the monthly premiums would cost hundreds, and it would come with a $5,000 deductible.
āWe canāt really justify the premium, since weāre not usually going to spend the $5,000 weād need for our insurance to kick in,ā Clark says. āIt doesnāt make sense to pay for a plan like that.ā
Things on the individual market looked even worse: Family plans can have deductibles of upward of $14,000. Facing those options, the Clarks decided that Lindsay and her kids would go uninsured ā which isnāt an especially uncommon choice in Texas, where they live.
Texas has the highest uninsured rate in the nation, with 20 percent of the non-elderly population going uninsured. That works out to nearly 5 million uninsured Texans like the Clarks.
When you look at just kids, the numbers are similarly dismal. Eleven percent of Texas children donāt have coverage, also the highest rate in the nation.
One reason Texas has such a high uninsured rate: Itās among the 14 states that do not participate in the Affordable Care Actās Medicaid expansion. An estimated 1.1 millionĀ low-income TexansĀ would qualify for coverage if the state did sign on to the program.
And for the Obamacare programs that do exist, the Trump administration hasĀ significantly cut outreach funding.
Clark quickly found that going without insurance was expensive, too. In April 2017, she fell down a friendās stairs and hurt her ankle. She took a trip to the emergency room to get it checked out and ended up with a $1,459.10 bill for X-rays, some pain medication, and a walking boot.
Sheād actually thought she had coverage then, but it turned out she had missed a monthās payment on her COBRA plan. āMy mother had passed away unexpectedly, and I was caught up with the funeral planning,ā she says.
After her daughter almost went to the emergency room, Clark did look into getting health coverage. But the numbers still didnāt add up, so she and her children remain uninsured today, nearly two years later.
āI know quite a few people who donāt have insurance,ā she says. āWe all make too much to qualify for Medicaid or get help from the government, but donāt make enough to afford coverage on our own. Itās this gap that we all sit in. And there isnāt a really clear way out.ā
We ration access to health care in the United States ā and this is what it looks like
Last week, Congress held its first-ever hearing on single-payer health care. At that hearing, conservative health policy expert Grace-Marie TurnerĀ warnedĀ that universal coverage schemes like those in Canada and the United Kingdom use ārationingā in a way that āseriously compromises access to care.ā
It is true that under universal systems, government boards have to make decisions about how to best allocate health care resources. Those decisions can be controversial, like when the United KingdomĀ decided not to cover a new cancer drugĀ because it didnāt believe it was worth the money.
But make no mistake: Rationing is happening here in the United States; it just happens more quietly. It happens whenĀ 11 percentĀ of Americans donāt take their prescription drugs as directed by their doctor in order to save money.
And it happened when the Clarks made the decision not to go into the emergency room because they were too worried about the bill.
Clark says that when she thinks back, she feels like she made the right decision for her family. But she still finds the experience upsetting, and wishes she never had to go through it in the first place. She wishes she lived in a place where she didnāt have to worry about how much health care costs, especially for children.
But right now, Texas ā and the whole United States ā isnāt that place.
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