My Health Insurance is Killing Me

Is this really how it has to be?

I didn’t always need my health insurance, I’ll admit. For most of my adult life, I didn’t have it. When I blew out my knee in a bouldering accident, got ACL surgery, and it subsequently got infected (and I almost died from sepsis), I relied on the hospital to lower my bill, and the rest was forgiven in seven years. It wasn’t until I went to graduate school that I got actual, real health insurance. I was 35 years-old.

And it wasn’t until I was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis that I began paying out of pocket (nearly $500 a month) for my Molina health insurance. Yes, I paid $6000 a year, and yes, they questioned my rheumatologist when we finally landed on the “cure” for my RA— an immunosuppressant that costs over $6000 for two doses without health insurance. My rheumy (as I call them) had to prove that they’d tried every other (cheaper) medication on the market, which they had. We started with the least expensive, and, side effect after side effect, went through pill after pill unti…