When the word insurance is brought up, one person comes to mind, and that is my father. He is the hero of a moderate sized Dominican family, a person who has never stopped working in his entire sixty years of life. From a young age, my father has given me everything and he has tried his hardest to provide the best opportunities and education for his three sons. Which is why, Medicaid, the only type of health insurance affordable to us, became so vital in keeping him alive. At the age of ten, the man whom I looked up to as invincible, my personal superhero, fell before my young eyes. I remember it clearly, as my friend who played with me at my home laughed at his odd behavior, believing it to be some kind of joke. The police, the paramedics, my mother who at the time was overseeing the corner store we worked at, and every single neighbor came to see what had happened.
From that day onward, my father was diagnosed with epilepsy. Seizures were commonplace, and every little sound that appeared off to us caused great fear within our hearts. The questions and the worry would plague us—had he suffered another attack? Would we walk in on him lying on the floor? Nevertheless, I am twenty-five years old now, and despite all the shortcomings and hardships my family faced, my father is still with me. He is still working and we have God and Medicaid to thank for that. Many people gave up on him, saying he was a lost cause, but we always held our faith firm, because every time we picked up that phone to call for help, we knew we at least had our insurance. No matter what it was we needed, cat scans, Dilantin medication, pain medication or otherwise, the nice representative who became a close family friend to us always made sure that we had the most coverage.
Insurance is possibly the most important thing a household with a sick member can possess. You never know when a catastrophe will occur, and having that lifeline to fall back on makes the situation easier to endure. I learned this the hard way, when my father started to get a better hold of his ailment. We believed him to be cured and finally liberated of the awful disease, but in the moment he took the wheel to drive me to school one day, he started to have an attack. We hit a large rover and I lost consciousness. It was only after I woke up that I realized what occurred. The fees were incredibly high, and even though it did not cover my concussion, they helped us financially when it came to my father’s costs. He was safe and lived to see another day. Because of this, I never once worried about money or coverage every time I found myself by my father’s side at a hospital bed, and it was all thanks to Medicaid.
Nowadays, my father lives without the Dilantin medication. It was a bold move, but he wanted to be free of those chains, and we felt it was within his right to do so. Medicaid gave him the chance to fight for his life. It prevented him from giving up, and as the years passed us by, he slowly began to recover. Dinnertime was met happily, for it was always a time where he would mostly be affected, and although he never did get back behind a driver’s seat, he can at least walk casually in public without fear of suffering a seizure. We do not live in fear anymore, for a man who suffered approximately three to four attacks a day has gone to having zilch. There may be that sporadic one time every other month, but he has it under complete control. I can safely say that without Medicaid my father would have died. My baby brother would not have met him and our family’s future would have been bleak. As the sole person to support us, my mother alone would not have been able to grant us the life we have now.
Thus, with every shred of will power, faith in God and a lot of help from the good representatives of Medicaid, my father pulled through. So much that he created a savings account and put me through college. I obtained a bachelor’s degree in architecture, becoming a first generation graduate, and with my father pushing me to continue, I went on in pursue of a master’s degree. Therefore, when I am asked, is insurance important; is it necessary? I can only say, it saved my father’s life and gave his family a fair chance to live happily.
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