Happy Monday, everyone!
We have a GREAT treat today! Maria Foscarinis, of the National Law Center on Homelessness and Poverty (NLCHP), sent us a piece on her organization’s stance on the health care debate and the homelessness.
No doubt you’ve heard a thing or two about the raging controversy over health care. All the national papers, including the New York Times, the Washington Post and USA Today are a-buzz with recent criticisms, potential changes, and the likelihood that the administration will concede to the hysteria of the general public.
In our little corner of the world, we wonder what the health care debate will mean for the homeless population. We wonder if reform – should reform pass – will make a tangible difference in their lives: will the chronically homeless get the medical attention they need? Will improved coverage curb the number of costly emergency-room visits? Will the poor and very poor be assured health care coverage under federal programs like Medicaid? And since the Post brought it up, what about the families?
Here at the Alliance, we know what we’d like to see. Check out senior policy analyst Peggy Bailey outline the Alliance’s goals for improving health care.
And a slightly different perspective from our friends at the NLCHP. Many thanks to Maria Foscarinis and Ashley Shuler at NLCHP for their invaluable help in getting this piece posted today.
I was lucky: I had good health insurance, access to top doctors, and friends and family with the wherewithal to help. I also had a good education that helped me navigate the health and insurance systems and also to remain employed.
I had a home to go to after each round of chemo and, three years later, after hospital treatment for a recurrence of the cancer.
“Scott” is not so fortunate. Twenty-seven years ago, at the age of 21, he lost his left leg after a car hit him. A month earlier, he had lost his job as a forklift operator, and with that, his health insurance. Unable to afford his own home, he was living with his mother. The money he recovered from the driver of the car that hit him barely covered hospital expenses and the lawyer’s fees.
Through his state’s department of rehabilitative services, Scott was able to get a prosthetic leg. Finding work was challenging. For a year he had a job—and health insurance—with an office supply company, but when the company went bankrupt, he was out of work again. He worked as a migrant laborer for a while—with no insurance. When a relationship ended and he moved out, he had no place to go. He’s been homeless on and off ever since.
His family is too poor to help. He is bright and personable, but lacks the education that might help him get a job. He is on multiple waiting lists for housing but, for now, has no place to live but the streets. He is searching for work, but with a disability and without a home, he has been unable to find one.
And now his other leg is showing signs of problems.
What would have happened to me had I been in his place when I was diagnosed?
I doubt I would be alive today. Without health insurance, I would probably not have gotten the early intervention that helped save my life, or access to top doctors, or the latest treatments. Without a home to live in, I doubt I would have survived the depressed immune system and consequent infections that followed my treatments. And if I were alive, I’d probably have had a much harder and longer time recovering physically and emotionally from the rigors not only of disease but of treatment.
The consequences of lack of access to health care are devastating. The average life expectancy of homeless people in the U.S. today is 30 years less than that of the rest of the population. Homeless people suffer disproportionately from both acute and chronic disease, such as diabetes, arthritis, and lost limbs. Disability benefits are extremely difficult to apply for and receive: Except for about a one-year period long ago, “Scott” has never received them, despite his obvious disability.
Health care reform is now on the table in Washington, D.C., and it’s long overdue. But to be meaningful, it must include people like Scott. Medicaid, the federal health care program for poor people, does not currently cover all low-income people; in fact, 70% of homeless people are currently uninsured. The program must be reformed and barriers to it eliminated to cover all homeless and poor people.
- It must include primary and preventive care for people like Scott, and not just because they need it desperately. Right now, emergency room care is the primary medical care available to homeless people – but this is the most expensive care, costing an estimated three to four times as much as preventive measures or a doctor’s visit, and the most burdensome for all involved.
- It must include reasonable access to disability benefits for those who are disabled. Currently, about 40 percent of homeless people suffer from mental or physical disabilities, or both. Yet only 11 percent receive federal disability benefits, due to barriers including address requirements, missing identification documents, or lack of funds to obtain birth certificates and other records required to apply.
- Perhaps most importantly, it must include access to housing. Without a home, virtually no treatment will be effective—for the person or for taxpayers. A 2004 study of nine cities compared the cost of providing supportive housing to homeless persons, including those suffering from mental illness and addiction, to the cost of allowing people to live on the street. In all nine cities, supportive housing was significantly less expensive, and the health care costs were much less expensive. Supportive housing reduces health costs by reducing expensive emergency department visits. For example, the study found that San Francisco hospital costs were over $2,000 per day, while supportive housing was under $50 per day.
We all need health care and we all need housing. It’s part of being human.
It’s time to recognize that these are also basic human rights.