How Can I Put My Mother On My Health Insurance Free Quote
Michael Moore is one who is not afraid of controversy as he delves into the political madness of our government and points out what so many just do not want to hear. Mr. Moore brings ferocity to the surface of those who spend their life with blinders on and bathes in the amusing of illiteracy. He also 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 desirable to say but could not find the lyrics. His movies have constructed a lengthy line of enemies as in any case as those who see him as their political hero. However, his latest relief, Sicko, is one that s seems to cause less controversy and more awareness. Even the “anti-Moore” groups have found a hurting truth in the voice he portrays for all Americans who have had to transaction with the homeopathic care, or lack there of, in our country of “freedom”.
Sicko hit me where the heart is because I, too, was one who survived more than one medical nightmare. And while the government consistently abolishes any functional plans to help all Americans, we are going through these nightmares each with our own, personal experiences.
At ten months old, my daughter began having multiple seizures. Terrified beyond comprehension, we called for the EMTs who transported her to the crisis room. She had two seizures in choice while the medical staff in the ambulance worked on stabilizing her. As soon as we reached the hospital, she was seen and treated not to mention given a CAT scan before 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 enough to purchase some.
No doctor with the discernledge of neurological medication made it in to see our daughter until late morning on the succeeding Monday. When the doctor did show up, she drifted into the room as if we were taking up her valuable time. My husband and I had gotten very little sleep, if any, and our eyes were swelled delight in a constant go with the flow of tears while our only child lay in her bed connected to several machines as her head tilted back and rocked from one side to the other. Her feet and hands were curled in at the ankles and wrists, and she appeared as if she was inflicted with cerebral palsy just over night.
The doctor did not bother to show so much as a glance in our childs direction as she looked at us with a sort of conceited disgust and asked, “so how do you expect to pay me for this, cause I dont come cheap”. Already insensitive from the experience of watching my daughter go from a healthy ten month old to a grimly brain damaged baby; I was speechless to say the least.
On the second run to the emergency room due to multiple seizures, we decided 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 lower of a so-called priority list. By the next day, we were finally back in the NICU awaiting the only neurologist who controlled pediatric patients, and only when she absolutely had to. And she “doesnt come cheap”. During this meeting with the opposite sex I quickly titled the “doctor from hell”, she made the statement that she didnt believe us. She thought we were making up the seizures for comment. 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 operates 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 developed in her abilities.
Michael Moores Sicko brought buried tears to my eyes as I have been there and am going through an added 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 working people get medical assistance. He doesnt know any enhanced. The poor old guy has never had the privilege to endure the need. How could he know? Why should he take the time to understand? We are only the working class.