My Congressman Voted to Kill My Family

My Congressman Voted to Kill My Family

Just a few minutes ago, it happened.

The House of Representatives voted to deny coverage to my family. To my husband, who has brain cancer and the audacity to survive. To my 7yo daughter, who has asthma. To my 4yo daughter, with a congenital spinal defect.

To me, for having been raped, among other things.

More than 20 million Americans will lose their insurance in the next months and years should this bill become law, and there isn’t much stopping it. The death toll will be astronomical. And the chances are pretty high that my family will be included in that number.

I want to say this isn’t about me, this is about the people who are dying RIGHT NOW, and only have access to lifesaving care because of the public exchange, and who don’t even have a fighting chance at keeping it. We have employer based coverage. It *might* still take care of us. It *might.* Probably not if my husband ever wants to change jobs. Probably not if we ever need to move. Probably not if he gets too sick to work.

Then we’re as fucked as the rest of the country.

I want to say this isn’t about me, but you know what? It is. Because while 217 members of congress, including a man I sat down with and talked to in person two times, got to enjoy the cases of beer they rolled into the chamber to celebrate with just a few short minutes ago, I got to field messages from my husband, a man with stage four astrocytoma, a glioblastoma that should have killed him nine years ago, as he read the news. I got to sit alone in my house, imagining him at work, reloading and reloading and reloading the news, trying to work despite this evil thing hovering over his head.

So this is absofuckinglutely about me.

And this is absolutely about you. And every human fucking being with a shred of human decency.

ALL OF US know somebody with cancer. Know somebody with asthma. Know somebody who’s been raped. Know somebody with a congenital defect.

ALL OF US know somebody who is now facing bankruptcy and death because we aren’t impervious to illness and injury. Because nobody is. We’re all fucking mortal. We are all desperate and determine to live, and live well, and live happily, for so long as we can.

None of us want to suffer. None of us want our friends and loved ones to suffer.

The difference between us and the 217 Congressmen who voted to kill my family is that they have no friends and loved ones. They have dollar signs and reelection promises. They have no conscience and no soul. They have no empathy and no love in their cold, black, evil hearts.

The difference between them and us is that even though they are the vilest creatures on the earth, I still don’t think THEY and THEIR FAMILIES should suffer and die from treatable diseases.

And that is no comfort to me.

The moral high ground is freezing and barren and desolate.

I wish I believed in Hell. I wish I believed in a God who would send the 217 members of congress who have done this to suffer there for eternity. But I don’t. I can’t. Because I believe that all that matters in life is what you do with it, making it better for those you share it with. And I have no power to choose my beliefs, however comforting that vengeful thought would be.

I am angry, and I am desperate, and I am depleted.

But I am not done.

I will not go gentle into that dark night.

I will hold onto this anger and rage, rage against the dying of the light.


Read more about the impact of current events on our lives here: Save AmeriCorps

Read my latest post here: Begging My Congressman For My Family’s Lives

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