You’ll (not) love this health plan

I'M UNEMPLOYED again--going on a year this month. This is the second time in three years I've lost my job, and after moving down South out of desperation, here I am writing to SocialistWorker.org again to calm my anger.

My depression comes and goes in cycles, and this week, I'm feeling okay. It's another gray, rainy morning in Columbia, S.C., and with fleeting energy and motivation I tell myself, "This isn't going to stop me. I'm getting this done today."

So off I go to the Richland County Department of Health and Social Services to fill out my application for Medicaid. The line isn't that bad. In fact, I'm sure I'll be called within five minutes. I fill out my application, get my stuff ready and wait.

Sure enough, a minute later, "Kenneth Love to counter 5 please" rings out over the loudspeaker, and off I go. The conversation goes something like this. I say, "Hi, I've filled out my application for Medicaid."

The worker takes it, hands me a piece of paper, and says "I'm sorry, Mr. Love, but we're only accepting those who are blind, deaf or disabled. But if you go to this free clinic between the hours of 7 and 8 a.m., you'll be able to see a doctor, but be on time, because they only take the first 25 people in line."

Another punch in the gut doesn't faze me, so I say, have a nice day, and walk out into the rain and drive back across town. I get back home, dry off and sit at the computer. Feeling kind of lost, I Google "health insurance quote" and click on the one that looks least likely to send several dozen spam e-mails a day.

I fill out my name, cell phone and date of birth, and that I have asthma and have been hospitalized for a severe allergic reaction to milk in the last six months. Then I click the button and see a couple of quotes.

I laugh and click close on the browser, because who can afford $200 a month plans when you live on unemployment, and have a black-hole credit score, almost $100,000 in student loan debt and around $1,600 a month in living expenses and bills (not including food and fuel).

Last month, I was working on getting into the federal and state high-risk pool plans, but they also denied me for pre-existing conditions, and the plans that would have accepted me were too expensive.

BUT WAIT...Ring, ring goes my cell phone not five minutes after closing the website. I'm getting a call from Florida. "Hello?" "Hi, Mr. Love, I'm with health plans number one, and I'm calling about the quote you just got off our website, and I wanted to offer you a plan that will fit your needs and that you're going to love."

I think to myself, "Wow, really? That I'm going to love? This should be good." So I continue, "I'm listening," and the agent goes on to tell me about these really awesome plans that don't cover dental, vision or mental health, and if you have a pre-existing condition, you can see a specialist but can't get benefits for pre-existing conditions until you've been on the plan a full year.

I say to the guy, "Let me stop you, if your great plan doesn't cover dental, vision or mental health, and I can't get my $500-a-month asthma medications on a prescription coverage plan, I'm pretty sure I'm not going to love it or want it."

He says without any hesitation, "I completely understand, Mr. Love. Let me transfer you to another specialist who can offer a better plan." So he puts me on hold and the line gets transferred to another agent, who actually gives me the exact same pitch.

At this point, I was already tuned out, reading SocialistWorker.org's latest coverage on Libya and randomly saying "okay" to break the silence.

Then the phone lights up again...I'm getting another call from another agent in Texas. I quickly hang up and look at the recently missed calls. While on the line, I've received six calls from random area codes, and each call was within two minutes of one another. More parasitic health care agents trying to collect my money for the lowest possible amount of coverage.

Needless to say, I won't be getting health care any time soon. I'm still waiting on the state to call me back for my emergency filing for food stamps that I placed two weeks ago. I'm on my fourth unemployment extension, and that's going to end soon. I am so screwed.

Lately, I'm beginning to enjoy the nightmares I have while sleeping more than the one I have while awake. Anyway, as I'm finishing up this sentence, I received the seventh call, and the guy finished the phone call by saying, "Believe me when I say it, Ken. Things are going to get better."

What a crock of shit! But I need to finish this up because I'm receiving the eighth call now. If I can manage to breathe without my asthma medications I'll see you all on the picket lines.