Reading Karen Tumulty’s compelling narrative about her brother’s illness and misadventures in the U.S. health care system in this week’s issue of Time reminded me of Fast Food Nation, the deservedly popular book that chronicled the evils of the fast food industry but ended with a conclusion as flat as a McDonald’s hamburger. It pretty much said you don’t have to eat Whoppers if you don’t want to.
Tumulty, a national political correspondent for Time who has covered health care before, told the serious and underreported story of those 25 million Americans who have coverage that nonetheless leaves them uninsured when a devastating and or even a not-so-devastating illness strikes. It’s a problem that could happen to any of us at any time, and it happened to Tumulty’s brother Patrick. She told of her brother’s battle with kidney failure, and the insurance traps he fell into while trying to get treatment.
After he lost a job with health insurance, Patrick took the experts’ advice and bought a policy in the individual market. Continuing to believe that he would get another job with benefits, he kept buying a series of six-month policies from Assurant Health, a company that specializes in insurance for small businesses and short-term policies for those between jobs. What Patrick didn’t realize was that each time he re-upped for another six months, he had to satisfy the company’s health requirements just as if he were buying a brand new policy. When he needed the coverage to pay his medical bills, Assurant refused, saying that his kidney condition was already pre-existing when he got his latest six-month policy.
Tumulty’s story poignantly shows what happens when patients fall through the cracks of the insurance system. She points to the shortcomings of other options for people in similar predicaments—such as the Texas Medicaid program, which she calls “notoriously stingy.” In San Antonio, where he lives, Tumulty’s brother qualified for a special program that is available only to patients with very low incomes. But even though he can get relatively inexpensive care, Tumulty points out that it is not seamless.
The lack of seamless care is one of system’s failings, many experts believe. Patrick must navigate between his kidney specialist, who prescribes medications and treatments, and the program’s bureaucracy that must approve them. That’s hard for him.
Time readers get a clear picture of the problem. But the magazine only advances fuzzy solutions. Tumulty devotes some paragraphs to what she says are the two major paths to reform. One is the Obama approach, which she sums up as forcing employers to offer coverage to their workers with subsidies and other incentives to make the policies more affordable. That’s it—no mention, let alone explanation, of a public option that could compete with private insurers—which will be the major flashpoint in the debate. How would Patrick fare under that option?
She talks about McCain’s proposals, which are very much alive in the Congressional mix—taxing the value of employer-provided insurance, which proponents hope will encourage people to leave their employers’ health plan and seek coverage in the individual market. Yes, the one that snared Patrick. Tumulty does say that consumers often lack the power or information necessary to make their own choices, and hints that McCain’s approach may be tough for many patients. But, she says, “there are ways to fight back.” In the end, she pushes the Texas Insurance Department to make the insurer cover some of Patrick’s bills—a partial solution, at least for him. But most patients don’t have savvy relatives who know where to file complaints and have a national media platform at which to write about them.