Yesterday, I fainted in the local hospital. I had been stupid—donated blood on an empty stomach, ate breakfast, and then immediately went for a run in the thickly hot morning. I finished breathing harder than normal and utterly drenched in sweat. Right after showering, I drove to the hospital to pick up a family member from an endoscopic procedure. Standing by the bed, I started to feel lightheaded. I knew I was going to faint, but at the point of that realization, it’s impossible to stop.
So I passed out in a chair. Three nurses jumped to me, and within 45 seconds of coming to, I had an air pipe and smelling salts up my nostrils, a blood pressure cuff on my bicep, a pulse monitor clamped on my finger, and an IV needle jammed in my brachial vein. Within five minutes, I had been loaded into a bed and wheeled to the emergency room. Within 30 minutes, I had recovered from all lightheadness, yet I still waited through an EKG—just in case I had an arrhythmia. I didn’t, of course. I was simply dehydrated from being stupid enough to run immediately after removing a pint of blood.
Both the nurses in the endoscopy unit and the ER were amazingly kind and forgiving of my inconvenient noncompliance. And they followed our nation’s copious medical protocol for such situations. But I didn’t need that care or really deserve it. Dehydration from an unwise run wouldn’t kill me. And it was my fault.
At least 1.6 million children die each year from diarrhea complications. Unlike in my case, the dehydration is not their fault. They can’t choose to avoid the fetid water they drink. There is no other choice. These children deserve care.
I am grateful for the luxurious care that I enjoyed—and the insurance that paid for it, insurance unavailable to nearly one in six in our richest of countries. Reflecting on my healthcare experiences and thinking about the complete lack of healthcare for so many forgotten people makes this conviction difficult to believe: healthcare, just like food and clean water, are basic human rights. More important than any other right is the right to survive. But as Dr. Farmer writes (Pathologies of Power, I think) “If healthcare is a basic human right, who is considered human enough to have that right?”
So I am human. How many are with me? Surely fewer than those denied humanity. Haitians have such a hopeful proverb, “tout moun se moun” (every person is a person). Yet, only 54% of Haitians have access to safe water. They count themselves each as human. Why can’t we?
Sounds like a rough day in the hospital.
ReplyDeleteI have a question about what you mean when you say "healthcare is a basic human right." What exactly does "healthcare" refer to? If a certain cancer therapy costs tens of thousands of dollars, is everyone entitled to that? It is healthcare, but I would strongly disagree that it's a right.
Also, I would like to point out the difference between "healthcare" and "health insurance." If your case, you seemed to benefit from health insurance. In other words, someone else is paying for your treatment.
But everyone would have gotten your treatment. If what happened to you happened to anyone, anyone at all, in a hospital, they would have received the same treatment. Regardless of whether or not a patient can pay, hospitals are required by law to stabilize the patient. The hospital did not check your insurance before they treated you. In my eyes, that is healthcare. Health insurance and healthcare are different.
Are you arguing that healthcare is a basic human right or that health insurance is a basic human right?