Getting Best Health Insurance Plans For A Child Who Has Pre-existing Conditions
Michael Moore is solitary who is not petrified of controversy as he delves into the partisan madness of our government and points out what so many just do not want to hear. Mr. Moore brings anger to the take place of those who spend their life with blinders on and bathes in the bliss of ignorance. He moreover brings the anger to the surface of those who have already opened their eyes to the unjust ways of our government as he says all they had wanted to say but could not find the words. His cinema have created a long line of enemies as at any rate as those who see him as their political hero. However, his latest release, Sicko, is one that s seems to cause less controversy and more awareness. Even the “anti-Moore” groups have found a painful truth in the voice he portrays for all Americans who have had to deal with the health care, or lack there of, in our country of “freedom”.
Sicko hit me where the heart is because I, too, was one who persisted more than one health nightmare. And while the government consistently abolishes any functional plans to help all Americans, we are going by way of these nightmares each with our own, personal experiences.
At ten months old, my daughter began having multiple seizures. Terrified beyond understanding, we rang for the EMTs who transported her to the predicament room. She had two seizures in route while the medical workforce in the ambulance worked on stabilizing her. As soon as we reached the hospital, she was seen and treated including given a CAT scan ahead sending her upstairs to the NICU (pediatric intensive care unit). It was a Saturday morning in Las Vegas where we lived at the time when this nightmare began. My husband was a chef at a casino and I was an interpreter for the deaf, but neither of our jobs offered medical insurance and we did not make plenty to purchase some.
No doctor with the skills of neurological medication plotted out it in to see our daughter until late morning on the following Monday. When the doctor did show up, she walked into the room as if we were taking up her valuable time. My husband and I had gotten very youthful sleep, if any, and our eyes were swelled derive pleasure a constant flow of tears while our competently child lay in her bed connected to several machines as her head tilted back and rocked from one side to the varied. Her feet and hands were curled in at the ankles and wrists, and she looked as if she was inflicted with cerebral palsy just over night.
The doctor did not bother to show so a good deal of as a glance in our childs direction as she looked at us with a kind of arrogant disgust and asked, “so how do you anticipate to pay me for this, cause I dont come cheap”. Already numb from the experience of watching my daughter go from a healthy ten month old to a severely brain damaged baby; I was thunderstruck to say the least.
On the second run to the emergency room due to multiple seizures, we adjudicated to take her ourselves by car. I sat holding my baby in my arms, watching her go in and out of convulsions for nine hours before she was even seen by a triage nurse. Other patients who had been waiting longer than we had were begging them to help my daughter. We had no insurance. We were on the underneath of a so-called priority diary. By the next day, we were finally back in the NICU anticipating the only neurologist who handled pediatric patients, and only when she absolutely had to. And she “doesnt come cheap”. During this briefing with the woman I quickly headingd the “doctor from hell”, she made the statement that she didnt believe us. She thought we were making up the seizures for attention. She earned the title I had given her.
It has been almost sixteen years since that heart-wrenching learning experience. My daughter is doing very well, although she functions at about a six year old level and is in a special needs class. I often wonder if she had been seen on that second visit before having as many as thirty plus seizures, would she have been more progressed in her abilities.
Michael Moores Sicko carried buried tears to my eyes as I have been there and am going through a new similar experience at this time due to the lack of compassion from our government. President Bush of late vetoed a bill that would have helped hard executing people get medical assistance. He doesnt know any better. The poor old guy has never had the privilege to endure the need. How could he know? Why should he take the time to realize? We are only the working class.