My Health Care Experience as a Foreign Student

I'm not what you would call political...as my dad can tell you. I vote because as a naturalized U.S. citizen I feel it is my right to vote. (I proudly became a citizen in 1992.) But, I shy away from political discussions...as my dad can tell you. My dad is also a naturalized U.S. citizen, but that is where the political similarities end. My dad has been known to wear a t-shirt with a politically charged message to a one-year-old's birthday party to spark conversation. "Spark" is the right word. Let's just say that I would prefer to talk about the one-year-old at a birthday party rather than foreign policy.

As a foreign student at a liberal arts college, I was in a health care no-man's land. I did not qualify for state health care as I was on a student visa, and was not a resident or a citizen of the U.S. My parent's had to take out a private health insurance policy for me through the college in case I needed hospitalization or the care of a specialist.

In my first 3 years, I was able to get my health needs met through the college infirmary for free. For a cold or flu or a cough or a fever or sports injury, I was handed a paper box of red pills. I suspect now that the pills were a placebo designed to make hypochondriac, prone to exaggeration, and on the "verge of getting mono due to pulling all-nighters" college students leave the college health center feeling as though their needs were met.

All was well until I broke my ankle in a freakishly ridiculous manner during my senior year of college. I was walking in Tretorn sneakers (I'm an 80s girl through and through) on a gravel parking lot and yes I was a sober. As I stepped down, my ankle went the other way...ow! I iced my foot, elevated it, and hoped for the best.

By the next morning, I was unable to put weight on it. I hobbled to the college infirmary. I was told I needed an x-ray. It was Saturday so my only option was to go to the local hospital. My ankle was broken -- it was a hairline fracture, but still required a cast and crutches.

I *think* I took a taxi back to campus with my friend. It's all a bit hazy. Back in my friend's dorm room, I pondered how I would manage my situation. I had to get up each morning and navigate the bathroom in my turn-of-the-century dorm. After getting ready I had to cross a road, walk to the college dining room, manage a tray with my backpack, and then get to classes. I was exhausted just thinking about it.

The logistics of dealing with the injury were further complicated once I realized that I would have to use a credit card for all my health expenses. The health insurance policy had a high deductible. Very little was covered. On the horizon was an appointment with a specialist, possibly a new cast, and maybe physical therapy. What started as a minor turning of the ankle was turning in to a major health crisis.

By the end of the first week, I realized that I could no longer manage the crutches. I had too many close calls on slippery bathroom and dining hall floors. I requested and received a walking cast from the orthopedic specialist. I could wear the walking cast in place of the non-walking cast, ditch the crutches, and navigate campus by myself.

This health care crisis made me realize that health insurance is absolutely essential. In my home country -- England -- all heath care was free. My mother never paid a doctor bill or hospitalization for any of us. All health care including dental was covered by the government.

In our family we all rely on health insurance through my husband's employer. I am either a SAHM who writes or a part-time writer who stays at home -- it all depends on the day and my mood. Either way I worry that I have no health insurance. I cannot imagine raising children without health insurance. As I cast my mind back to all the well-baby visits, sick visits, and a few emergency room visits, I am grateful for my husband's health insurance.

When not re-injuring her ankle stepping in to holes dug by dogs or tripping on Legos, Jill muses on raising a kid, a preteen, and a teen at Musings.

Photo credit: Suzanne Cosentino took this photo of me when we were at college.