The Need for Immediate Relief

My friend Irene posted on Facebook that she needs money and she needs it fast. She’s trying to help her cousin to unload more than a dozen items, from a Toyota to a water dispenser. 

The reason for the urgency, Irene says, is that her cousin “has been battling with failing health issues . . . we went for some check ups and found out she has Peptic ulcer disease.”

“This came . . . as a shock to us especially the overwhelming price of the surgery so we are selling some of her items from her household residence and farm . . . to cover the funds for her surgery and other expenses.”

My initial reaction was to reply to Irene by saying that my contribution to this worthy cause would be to vow to keep up the fight to create a health care system in this country that isn’t so screwed up that some people have to go bankrupt just to be able to afford the health care they need. Bringing about that kind of radical change, after all, is the only way to ensure that nobody will have to hold a rummage sale if they need health care.

I hear about situations like this a lot. There are many stories about people organizing fundraisers in an attempt to bring in enough money so that they or someone they care about can pay their astronomical medical bills. The media quite often presents these as feel-good stories, heartwarming accounts of neighbor-helping-neighbor (like, for instance, the CBS News story “Stillwater community rallies around high school girls soccer coach injured in car crash”). But I get depressed by these stories, mostly because it upsets me that the media missed this golden opportunity to explore how the health care system in this country is so screwed up that some people have to go bankrupt just to be able to afford the care they need.

But I also realize that some people are in pain right now and they need immediate relief. So it isn’t fair to expect someone in that situation to wait until the system changes, which could take ten years—if we’re lucky. Maybe I should just shut up and make a contribution. But then I wonder whether by helping out, I am being an accomplice to a heinous crime. Am I helping the screwed up health care system stay screwed up even longer? If I help clean up the messes made by those who have turned their backs on people like Irene’s cousin, what incentive do they have to change their ways? Am I letting them off the hook?

Irene’s list of items to liquidate for quick cash includes a television, a camper, a hot tub, and a bike. So even while working for longterm change, maybe the best way for me to help in the short term would be for me to give some money without buying anything. Because even if her cousin sells enough of her stuff to raise the money to pay for her medical care, it doesn’t look like she will have much left with which to enjoy her new life.

Sadly, those are the kind of stories you hear every day.