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When I first got sick four years ago, it took me about eight months to get a Crohn’s diagnosis. I ended up in the hospital for a week, was dosed up on massive amounts of steroids, given a prescription for some ridiculously expensive drugs and was sent on my way.

I didn’t get better.

In fact my disease progressed. My doctor wanted me to start Remicade, a biologic medication that suppresses the immune system that causes all my problems. I was hesitant because there are a myriad of issues that go along these drugs. It’s a long term type of chemotherapy, and I would wager no one wants to do that willingly. Now I’m going to get very raw for a moment.

I ended up with a perianal abscess and a fistula, an abnormal tract, from my intestines that went through my sphincter muscles. To put it bluntly, I felt like my ass was falling out and I required immediate surgery.

 I woke up from the procedure and the first thing I remember was the nurse trying to explain to me that there was a plastic straw like thing in my rectum that would be there for the next couple months (it’s called a seton, look it up.) Uhh, what?!? I lucked out at the hospital and the doctor on call that day specialized in that type of surgery. Obviously it’s delicate work.

It was this doctor, with his face in my ass checking his surgical site, that helped me decide to go on these drugs. He threatened me with incontinence and said, “You don’t want me going in there again.” It was hard not to agree with that.

This surgery occurred the day before the last presidential election in 2016. I dragged my weak and beaten body to the voting place even though that was one of the last places I wanted to be. It was that important to me, and this year it is even more so.

These drugs that are dripping in my veins right now are not gold, but they damn sure are priced like they are. Approximately $14,000 every six weeks until forever. I have an excellent Blue Cross policy that I pay $200 a month for thanks to the Affordable Care Act, or what the uneducated call Obamacare. After I hit my extraordinarily low out of pocket max of $800, everything is paid in full, from drugs to hospitalizations and surgeries. I would never be able to afford this policy on my own without the monthly tax credits. (The  full price is about $650 a month)

This brings me to the present moment, just a few days before the presidential election and I am angry. Anger is only fear in disguise because at the core I am petrified about what will happen if these monsters in charge void the Affordable Care Act like they have been trying to ever since it’s inception.

I would be forced to go on Medicaid, which I may not even qualify for. I want to be able to pay for my insurance.  I do not want the government to decide my standard of care. I would have to change all of my doctors and fight for the medications I have been in for the last 4 years.  That should not be my only choice, but if he succeeds I don’t see another option. My $100,000 plus medical bills will fall on the governments shoulders instead of Blue Cross. How is that making America great again? 

Chronically ill people can not afford their care. We are nothing but a pre-existing condition to the insurance companies. They don’t want us. Neither does the government in charge, so where do we go for help? I did the only thing I could do, I voted for the old white guy that doesn’t want to take my insurance away just because he can. What will you do? You are either voting for or against humanity this year. It’s as simple as that.