My Year as a European. The miracle of Medicaid

This photo was taken the morning of my gallbladder operation. The surgeon had scrambled madly to get me onto the OR schedule because in two days my gold-card health care insurance was due to lapse. After that, the outpatient procedure would cost thousands of dollars I didn’t — and don’t — have.

A month later, when my Health Care Assistor told me I qualified for Medicaid he sounded like he was telling me I’d won the lottery. I had.

Anyone who lives in one of those fairy-tale countries where health care is considered a right and not a commodity may want to smile indulgently here and go make a cup of tea. But do feel free to bring your tea back and gloat a little. No judgment.

Once upon a time when people asked me what my health plan was I’d quip that I planned to stay healthy.

Cue the laugh track. Yeah, that worked. I’ve sporadically found myself with decent or even very good health care insurance over the years. I’ve also limped along with some god-awful high deductible box of bandaids making deals with devils at 3 am over some mysterious pain in my side.

Until my miraculous year on Medicaid the best health care insurance I ever had was with Aetna (see the above gallbladder…