Having the Speaker of the House lie to America repeatedly & no one hold him accountable.
You agree to pay for Dad if anything goes wrong, because your mother died slowly & painfully, miserably & SO expensively. 11/
Your father, who plays tennis every week & has a wife younger than you, has a sudden stroke. He made you power of attorney. 12/
Putting your handsome, reads-a-couple-books-a-week,now-paralyzed dad in a nursing home.Feeding tube,can’t read,barely speaks. 13/
Losing everything to medical bankruptcy–for your father & you–like millions of others. Watching legislators ignore your lives. 20/
Being desperate. Thinking you can sell your painkillers–$40 a pill on the street–to pay for your health insurance premium. 21/
Having a conscience.
Knowing you can’t contribute to someone else’s addiction by selling your pills.
But the thought is there. 22/
All you want to is less stress.
Recalling how you got sick on assignment in Toronto.
All the hospital charged you was $100. 23/
Tweeting from the hospital over&over
Your arm when they can’t find a vein
Your hand black from the infection caused by the IV.
Tweeting from the hospital after treatment causes paralysis.
The "gym" where they give you 3 days to learn to "walk" again.
Learning that the only rehab your insurance will pay for doesn’t have a physical therapist on the premises. 27/
Being sent home on a holiday weekend, paralyzed, with neither you nor your wife knowing how you’re going to manage. 28/
Pain. Shock. Fear.
In the hospital they gave you communion every day.
At home you can’t even pray.
You & The Wife fight a lot.29/
Recalling covering others' illnesses: a Pulitzer nom for writing about pediatric AIDS. The sweetness of abandoned AIDS babies. 30/
Sitting at bedside of an AIDS patient covered in Kaposi’s lesions. There are rats. You're 26. He's 23. He dies. You get cancer.32/
Knowing everything about the healthcare system yet being powerless to help anyone because it’s so broken & now, so are you. 33/
Being unable to sleep because you have to sit up to keep breathing, now.
Who can sleep sitting up, night after night?
Unable to go outside since JULY when PT stopped coming.
Your insurance decided you didn’t need any more PT.
It's SEPTEMBER. 37/
Trying not to hate those who made this happen w/their careless votes.
Trying not to hate those who won't even make a call.
Writing at 3am & aching for quiet, but the sound of the oxygen generator punctuates every sentence. Oxygen hisses in your ear. 40/
Knowing how much more you want to do.
Watching your sleeping wife.
Guilty for how your illness has bankrupted her, too.
Hoping folks will care enough to save your life, the way you have tried to save others’.Hoping they will know it's theirs, too. 42/