MaryAnne BrooksI turn 67 this March. Two years ago I went to my doctor’s office and was told that I needed a lung transplant. I suffer from Chronic Pulmonary Obstructive Disease (COPD), and emphysema.

In 1999, after countless doctor’s visits, I was diagnosed with COPD and the doctors told me that the worse case scenario would be a lung transplant. They knew that I quit smoking in December of 1997 so there wasn’t much more that I could do to improve my health on my own. As time went on my health progressively got worse. I went from using oxygen when I needed it to help me breathe better, to needing it all the time – I am now permanently attached to my oxygen cord. The change happened almost overnight.

That day in the doctor’s office, after he gave me the bad news - the worst possible case scenario, he reviewed my chart and asked me how old I was. I had just turned 65. He told me that 65 is the insurance cut off age for a lung transplant. I began to cry, I couldn’t have imagined that it would be this bad. There was nothing more the doctor could do for me. If I were rich I could go to another country and have the operation, but that is not an option for me.

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Raylean Donahue I have worked in accounts receivable for twenty-four years for three large corporations that handled various paper materials. None of the three corporations that I worked for provided health care coverage that I could afford.

My second child, Michael, was born on May 5, 1989. It was then that I truly realized the importance of health care and the trouble that comes with not having it. Michael suffered from severe asthma attacks, and as a result, we spent many nights rushing to the ERs only to be rushed out with little care after they found out we had no insurance.

When Michael turned nine, he had suffered his worst attack yet. As we sat in the ER, a doctor came in and gave him a shot, not thinking much of it (he was a doctor of course), I just sat by my son and held his hand. Right as the doctor left, a nurse came in with another shot for my son. This time, she explained that this was liquid adrenaline, and it would open his lungs up. She said it would be a few minutes, but Michael would feel much better, and we could then soon leave the hospital. Relief poured over me, and I felt like I could relax. We waited about five minutes, and all of a sudden, Michael started getting hives, and was not able to breath.

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Patti TeeuwenTwo years ago I was working as a waitress as I had done for most of my adult life. I was 22 and one of the furthest things from my mind was my lack of heath insurance. Unfortunately, it was not far from my mind for long.

On the 9^th of January I went to bed, the next morning I woke up unable to move my legs. I arrived at the hospital and had to make the scariest statement of my life, “I can’t feel my legs.” I was only 22 and I had no health insurance, an impending debt, and was out of a job.

That morning I was hospitalized and was placed in the Intensive Care Unit. I went through test after test. Cat scans and MRI’s constantly. Instead of being able to concentrate on what was wrong with me I was worried about how much all the tests were going to cost me. I was supposed to be moved to rehab when I developed a blood clot in my hand. My stay was extended for two more weeks. In my mind that was just thousands of more dollars of debt. I was diagnosed with neuropathy and told there is nothing that can be done to cure it except time.

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