All through the month of December, Sylvia tried to ignore her slowly-worsening cough and chest congestion. Although she worked more than forty hours a week at two part time jobs, she had no health insurance and couldn’t afford a doctor’s visit. Her cold would get better on its own, she reassured herself.

It didn’t. She was delirious by the time friends finally took her to the emergency room on New Year’s Eve. The doctors diagnosed pneumonia. Three weeks later, she died of adult respiratory distress syndrome. Would universal healthcare have saved her life? You decide.

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It’s 2:00 pm, and Julie Raines (not her real name) is looking forward to meeting with hospice staff. But today she isn’t seeing a doctor, nurse, or social worker. Today, she’s working with an art therapist. Julie has a rare neurological disorder. Before she started doing art, she was hostile towards her treatment team. Now she is able to express her anger—and recently, some positive emotions as well—on paper. Her team notes that she has become more accepting of her disease process and more able to express her needs to the care team.

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