Happy Belated Birthday, Affordable Care Act!

I realize I’m a bit behind, but the Affordable Care Act (ACA) recently turned three years old in the U.S., and I feel the need to write a post on it.

Because of the ACA, I don’t have to wear these braces on my arms all the time, and I can type as much as I need to!

Three years! Legislation that, for some reason, seemed so tenuous even just a year ago, has been implemented for three years! That is quite an accomplishment, not only for the Obama administration, but for people all over the U.S. We still have a long way to go, of course. For instance, some of our governors are still dragging their feet about expanding Medicaid access and though the ACA significantly expands coverage and the availability of health insurance, it still does not ensure universal coverage for everyone. However, as a speaker at a conference I attended a few weeks ago said, the ACA changes our dialogue around healthcare. Instead of bickering about whether or not we should provide it in the first place, it’s going to make us consider how we’re going to get coverage to people. It may, she suggested, prompt individual states to institute universal coverage, much like Massachusetts currently has, and so we in the U.S. may get universal coverage someday. And that dream seems nearer and more achievable because of the ACA. I sincerely hope she was right.

For the time being, though, the ACA is still something of a controversial subject. Even though the Supreme Court has declared it constitutional and it doesn’t seem like it will be going away anytime soon, mention of the Act will get you derisive snorts and an eye roll from a lot of people, often people who will be helped by this legislation. And there are still lawmakers in Congress who are attempting to cut off funding for the Act, since they weren’t able to kill it in the courts.

So, I wanted to write about how the ACA has impacted me. Because if it weren’t for the ACA, I wouldn’t have healthcare coverage, and for the first time in my life, I desperately need to be able to see a doctor on a regular basis. Just this past summer, I graduated. Without the ACA, I would have been unable to remain on my parents’ health insurance plan. I would have been unable to see a doctor about my carpal tunnel. I would have been unable to see a doctor about my ulnar nerve problem. I’ve started developing other health problems that require medical attention, and without the ACA, I wouldn’t be able to have that care. Not only would I not have access to care, my conditions wouldn’t be treated. I wouldn’t be able to write or work. I wouldn’t be able to be a productive member of society. By investing in everyone’s healthcare through the ACA, we ensure that people can be healthy enough to go to work and contribute to our economy and society. When everyone is physically able to give back to the system, we all benefit.

I know a lot of people who don’t see the ACA that way. And these people aren’t figures on FOX News or talk radio. These people are my friends. They’re my family members. They’re people that have known me for years, and I care about them deeply, and I know that they care about me. So, to my friends and family who oppose the ACA–people that I know and love–every time you complain about “socialized medicine” or “government interference,” essentially, what you are saying is that you want me and people like me to live a life of pain. You are telling me that you want me to have to give up being able to do the things that I love and the things that I need to do to work. You are telling me that I don’t deserve to see a doctor. You are telling me that you want me to I have immobile hands and fingers and an arm too weak to perform even the simplest tasks.

I know you probably don’t see it that way. I know that you probably think of your arguments in abstract terms. But you know what? The ACA affects real people. I am one of those people. I am able to live a healthier life because of the ACA. Because of the ACA, I don’t have to be in pain everyday. And there are millions of people out there who are suffering worse than I am. There are people out there to whom my suffering is like a paper cut, and you know what? Because of the ACA, those people can do to the doctor or the hospital. They can get the care that they need. They can have conditions treated before they become chronic. They can go back to work and resume their normal lives. The woman in remission from cancer was able to switch her coverage when she changed jobs, because the ACA says that she can’t be denied coverage for pre-existing conditions. The man whose old sports injury has come back as osteoarthritis in middle age? He can have coverage too, even if his job doesn’t offer it. The woman who just a year ago suffered such crippling depression that she couldn’t attend her kids’ birthday party? Now she can afford her medication! The ACA is about giving real people necessary healthcare. It’s about taking care of everyone, so that we all benefit. It’s about letting people have a higher standard of living and quality of life. It’s about telling people that they are worth enough that they don’t have to live everyday sick and in pain.

So the next time you complain about the Affordable Care Act, you look me in the eyes and tell me to my face that you think I should live everyday in pain. Me–a person you know and love and who knows and loves you. Could you do that? Could you honestly tell me that you want me to spend my days in pain and unable to work or do the things that I love? Because I sure as hell could never do that to you. In fact, if I knew that you were in pain, I would fight with everything I had to ensure that you didn’t have to be.

The Affordable Care Act has changed my life. It’s about real people, and I am one of those people. It’s allowed real people to have a quality of life they never could have had before.  It’s saved the lives of real people.

A Tip About Doctor Visits

Since I sporadically blog about my health, I’m going to write about seeing a new doctor today. It went pretty well. The woman was friendly and personable and listened to my descriptions of my symptoms and the history of what I’ve been diagnosed with so far and what treatments I’ve tried. She never said “Oh, but you’re too young to have this!” And she didn’t give me any unhelpful suggestions like, “Have you just tried to stop writing?” She didn’t have any immediate answers for me, but I did have some tests done and I got some referrals. I left feeling like I’m being proactive about my health, which in and of itself sort of makes me feel better. I hate just lying around and hoping things will suddenly get better on their own, when I’ve been doing that for a year and so far it’s just made me feel useless.

I did, however, try something new with this doctor. Before I went to the appointment, I made an outline of my recent medical problems with my hands and arms. I listed approximate dates of symptoms, previous doctors I’d seen, diagnoses I’d been given, and remedies I’ve tried. I found that it was a lot easier to just hand the doctor the list I’d typed up than attempt to explain to her what I’d been going through, what I’d already tried, and what symptoms I was having. I think it helped because, previously, when I’d tried to explain what was going on to doctors in the moment, I often found myself not knowing what to say. I find doctors sort of intimidating, which I know is ridiculous because doctors are just as fallible as anyone else, but I often feel like I’m taking their valuable time away from other patients. I’m not dying. I’m not suffering from a terminal illness–at least, I doubt that I am. I often feel almost like I don’t deserve to be there when there are so many people with more serious health problems and a more immediate need for care. (This was especially true this summer when I was seeing a doctor whose office was located in a hospital. One day, on my way to an appointment, I was on my way to the doctor’s office and I found myself behind a woman who appeared to have undergone surgery on her legs. She was struggling just to walk down the hall, even with the aid of a walker and a therapist by her side. I knew, logically, that by seeing a hand doctor located in the same hospital, I wasn’t taking anything away from her, but after watching someone just struggling to walk a few feet, my own problems felt sort of insignificant. This is an issue because, when I got to the appointment, I downplayed how much my arms were bothering and making activities like typing or driving difficult. I wasn’t honest with the doctor about just how much discomfort I was in, so he assumed I was improving more than I was.)

Anyway, by sitting down to make a list, I was able to remove myself from the intimidating environment of a physician’s office and focus on my health problems without comparing them to anyone else’s. Making the list also helped me focus on the most important things I wanted the doctor to know. So many times, I’ve left an appointment thinking, “If only I would have remembered to mention this or that!” Well, today, because I had a paper with all of the most relevant, most important things that I wanted the doctor to know, I didn’t have that problem. It also made the conversation that I did have with the doctor more focused. Instead of starting out by describing my problem to her, I was able to quickly bring her up to speed on everything I’d already tried or had done. The timeline gave her a quick overview of the basics like when my symptoms started and how long I’d had them, so she was able to ask me more detailed questions about what treatments I’d tried. Overall, I left feeling like someone had actually listened to me and that I’d adequately expressed myself. And, because the doctor had an accurate idea of what I’m experiencing, she was able to put together some potential plans for treatment.

So, the moral of this story: if you have complicated health issues or have trouble talking to doctors, try writing down your symptoms and history before the appointment. I suspect things will go much more smoothly.

Because I Occasionally Blog about My Health Too…

I’ve previously written about having carpal tunnel. This summer, I did some physical therapy, and for a while, it seemed to help. And then it didn’t. I went from feeling sort of normal to again having tingling, numbness, and stiffness in my hands. So, my therapist sent me back to the doctor, and my new diagnosis is stretched ulnar nerves–a problem similar in symptoms to carpal tunnel, except it’s caused by the stretching of the ulnar nerve in the elbow, which runs along the funny bone. I had some more nerve conduction tests done, and according to the tests, there’s nothing wrong with me. Except I know that there is, because my arms feel weak and numb all of the time. I could have surgery, but my doctor doesn’t feel good about that option, because other than my descriptions of my symptoms, there’s nothing that actually proves that this is my problem.

So, at the suggestion of a co-worker, I’m taking malic acid and magnesium supplements. I’m not usually big on vitamins. A friend’s mother, a dietician, calls them “expensive pee” because most people don’t need them, so their bodies just end up flushing them. And I’ve always lumped vitamin supplements in with other woo-woo remedies that don’t have double blind, replicable studies done by professionals supporting them. But I’m kind of at the point where I don’t know what else to do.

At least this problem isn’t affecting my ability to work, but it would be really nice to have some extra strength in my arms once I get out of work so that I can do things like write my own stuff or take up some of my other hobbies again like making beaded jewelry or learn how to play the guitar or actually go out with people. Sigh… I know a lot of people have problems that are much, much more serious than mine. There are people with life-threatening illnesses that have no cure. There are people who don’t have health insurance and can’t even see doctors about their problems. (As much as I wish the Affordable Care Act were more comprehensive and had a public option, I am so grateful for being able to stay on my parents’ insurance until I’m twenty-six. I’m not sure what I would have done without it, because if it weren’t for the ACA, I wouldn’t be insured right now.) I know there are a lot of things right now about my life that could be worse,  but that doesn’t make this issue any less frustrating.