Medicaid Saved My Life
As a recovering opioid addict, I understand how Medicaid literally saves lives. After all, it saved mine.
In January, however, the Trump administration approved Gov. Bevin’s waiver to take Medicaid coverage away from Kentuckians who cannot find a job or get enough hours at work, starting July 1 of this year. Restricting access to Medicaid will dramatically undermine the program intended to support the most vulnerable Americans. And some lawmakers don’t even seem to care at all.
I recently traveled to Washington, D.C., to meet with lawmakers about new Medicaid restrictions proposed by Gov. Bevin. I was lucky enough to meet with my elected representatives to explain how my success in overcoming an opioid addiction would be nearly impossible under these so-called work requirements. All of them were supportive and understanding of the role health care plays in recovery — all of them except for Leader McConnell’s office, that is. As someone who grew up in Kentucky, this shocked me.
In our meeting, I told his staff how the stability Medicaid brought to my life helped me rebuild. I’ll never forget the response I received. Work requirements like these exist to help roll back Medicaid expansion, his staffer told me — from a “population it was never intended to serve.” My blood boiled, and my heart sank.
In other words, according to Leader McConnell, Medicaid wasn’t meant for people like me.
I was born into a life of trauma. I was given up for adoption, suffered through rape, domestic violence, divorce, and, at 27, I found myself a single mother living in my parents’ home. I didn’t know how to cope with any of it, so, like a lot of people today, I turned to drugs. Heroin numbed all those feelings and it let me check out. But it also landed me in prison.
Prison ended up being a gift for me. While there, I consistently saw a doctor, my mental health issues were correctly diagnosed, I learned how to be sober, and I got healthy. But when I got out of prison nearly two years later, the stability that health care provided vanished. When I was released, I received a 30-day prescription of lithium as treatment and a list of requirements to meet, but no plan to meet them. In a new and unfamiliar world, there’s no way I could have fulfilled my obligations without the support of my family. But there are so many people struggling in the same ways I was who don’t have families to rely on.
On March 3, 2014, as I was sitting in the bathtub at my parent’s home ready to end it all, the doorbell rang. It was the postman, who delivered my approval notice for Medicaid; it was the most beautiful moment of my life. I finally felt supported by somebody outside my home.
That approval kept suicidal thoughts at bay and instead helped transform me into the happy, healthy, whole person I am today. Because of Medicaid, I’m able to be the mother my son deserves, to work as waitress, and to take classes at Northern Kentucky University, where I’ll graduate this fall with honors and a bachelor’s in social work.
My success — and the success of millions of others like me — is threatened by these unnecessary and cruel work requirements. My criminal record remains a hurdle to my career and I’ve worked hard for my degree, but will I be able to use it? If I don’t get enough hours in at the restaurant on a given week will I lose my health care? If I need to care for a loved one, is that considered work?
Gov. Bevin lied to us by claiming that work requirements exist to help people reenter the workforce. In reality, as Sen. McConnell’s office confirmed, these policies are designed to create a maze of bureaucratic red tape so confusing and demeaning that even those who are eligible for Medicaid could lose coverage.
The Kentucky state government estimates that five years from now, 95,000 fewer Kentuckians will have Medicaid because of Gov. Bevin’s plan. Ninety-five thousand fewer people are going to be given the stability they need to be the healthy, productive people their families and our communities deserve.
On July 1, Gov. Bevin’s cruel catch-22 will go into effect for people like me: If I want to receive Medicaid, I need to work; but if I want to work, I need Medicaid.
Gov. Bevin, if you actually want people back in the workforce, I’d be happy to work together to make sure that happens. Feel free to give me a call! But taking away the very support systems that keep people alive won’t accomplish this. That’s not going to work at all — not for me, and not for anyone else like me.
Kristen Arant is a native Kentuckian and currently attends Northern Kentucky University, where she is earning a bachelor’s in social work.
