by Lisa Codispoti, Senior Advisor
National Women’s Law Center
This post is part of a weekly series on Women and Health Reform.
For me, like for many others, the fight for health reform is personal. While my own health challenges that I have faced for the last 25 years have always made me a health reform advocate, a close family member drove home that point for me again: last week, my sister was diagnosed with pre-cancerous breast tissue, which puts her at a greatly increased risk of developing an invasive, aggressive form of breast cancer.
During this incredibly difficult time, an emotional roller coaster of uncertainty amidst decisions she faces about her treatment options, I am hugely grateful for one important thing: my sister is lucky to have good, stable health insurance so that she can focus on the important decisions about her treatment — without having to worry about whether she can afford one option or another.
Sad to say, there are far too many others who face this and other health battles with an additional burden that no one should have to face: not having enough health coverage, or having no health coverage at all. Like a dear friend of my sister’s who faced her own breast cancer battle some years ago. She bore that very burden when her husband was laid off a month after her diagnosis, and faced losing her health coverage. Like the woman an oncologist told me about who came to her for cancer treatment with only $2,000 of health “coverage.” Like Houston janitor Ercilia Sandoval, who was uninsured because her employer didn’t provide health insurance, and who was diagnosed with advanced breast cancer a year after the onset of symptoms that should have taken her to the doctor — if she could have afforded to go.
Unlike Ercilia, my sister was lucky. She was diagnosed early because her health plan covered preventative care that included a yearly mammogram. And she doesn’t have to choose her treatment based on whether she can afford it or not. She won’t have to choose between a treatment option that could mean that she wouldn’t be able to put food on the table, or another that could cause her to lose her home or go into bankruptcy. She doesn’t have to face an even worse possibility — having no choice at all, and being forced to roll the dice to see what happens if she forgoes treatment.
My sister has a choice of providers. She got her second opinion, and she has real choices regarding treatment options. I am confident that these will save her life. But I use the word lucky purposefully, because it implies an arbitrariness of this system of ours — and because luck should have absolutely nothing to do with our health care. Far, far too many women — and men — don’t have that luxury. They have no real choice.
There has got to be a better way. But what way?
Changing this health care “system” of ours is a big part of the mantra of “change” in the 2008 election cycle. Candidates, state leaders, business groups, health insurers, advocates, and others all have their own ideas about ways to change how we get health care in this country.
But what exactly will these changes mean for us? What do these changes mean for my sister, for Ercilia, and for all women and their families?
As we’ve previously discussed, women in particular face many unique challenges in obtaining and affording health care. As a result, women have so much at stake in the debate over health reform. At the National Women’s Law Center, our Women and Health Reform Project is working hard to ensure that all women’s needs are addressed in health reform at every level.
And starting next Thursday, and continuing each Thursday thereafter, my colleague Brigette Courtot and I will explore a series of issues on this blog related to women and comprehensive health care reform. We hope you’ll join us — because for all of us, this battle is personal.
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