Eighteen years, one month and three days ago I was involved
in a serious accident that put me in the hospital for an extended period of
time. My middle son, Timmy, was with me and 13 at the time – my youngest,
Matthew, was 11 and at home. While this is not about that, part of that story must
be told. I was driving a Jeep Cherokee, fell asleep at the wheel and drifted
into the path of an oncoming logging truck. The impact was violent and, fortunately,
my son sustained only minor physical injuries. Again, that was 18 years, one
month and three days ago – almost to the minute – as I write this. My injuries
were many, but the long-term recovery was a result of the major bone trauma I sustained.
At this time 18 years ago, I was just being brought out of a medically induced
coma – it would be a few days before I was fully conscious. I spent a total of
three months hospitalized.
I have three boys. Not surprisingly, each has dealt with
serious injury in the past. I have done the hospital vigil – I’d say most
parents can relate to it in some form or fashion. It goes with the job.
However, the one I put my parents through – at the age of 37 (I turned 38 in
the hospital) was a doozy. I actually got a small taste of what that must’ve
been like about 10 years ago when my middle son – the same one who was in my
accident with me – was a passenger in a car that was also in a serious accident.
That time he was not as lucky, sustained numerous cuts and significant bone
trauma to his right arm, an arm that is still not 100 percent.
Fast forward to one week ago. My youngest son – the one who escaped
all injury from my accident because he stayed at home – was involved in a major
accident on his motorcycle. He turned 29 just last month and while he has not
been injury free in the intervening 18 plus years, he has not endured anything
one might call “serious.” On his way home from work last Tuesday, a driver unexpectedly
turned left in front of him. My kid hit that car at or near the speed limit of
45 mph. He had the right-of-way, he was not at fault and although the car
sustained enough damage to probably declare it a total loss, the driver of that
car walked away with no injuries, My kid has not walked since.
But he will survive. Of course his injuries are serious and
they will take a long time to rehab through, but he is very healthy and extremely
motivated. He was wearing a good helmet and sustained no head injuries. These are
all very good things, but the overall situation is not “good.” My son is not “okay.”
He is fucked up and it is largely up to him to un-fuck himself – physically. He
knows that. He’s up for it. His attitude is surprisingly good most of the time
and when it is less so, it is due to a bout of intense, but temporary, pain. I’ve
been there, I have not forgotten. But due to this accident which was not his
fault, he is also fucked-up in other ways. Those things have to do with the intricacies
of care, medical insurance, auto insurance and the labyrinth that is designed
to put as much financial strain of the patient or victim as possible. In that
respect, things have not improved in the last 18 years. Indeed, things have
gotten worse.
Here is where I step up on my soapbox.
When it comes to Matt or any of my kids, I am well-equipped
to help them fight on multiple bureaucratic, faceless and soulless fronts. I
know how to effect change on a discrete and local level – to some extent I already
have advocated and won on my son’s behalf. It wasn’t even all that hard to do.
But as good as I am at winning arguments (and it sure doesn’t hurt being
right), I do not have the skill or knowledge necessary to navigate the complexities
and the legalese of the insurance game. For that we will likely need a lawyer –
if there is a big payoff (there might be), lawyers will take the case on a “contingency”
basis. They don’t get paid unless we win – usually around 30 percent of the
payoff. If we won $100 thousand, we would get $70 thousand. In other words, the
lawyer would get $30 thousand for knowing what to say and who to say it to – and for
being a lawyer while saying it. The other option is to pay a retainer - to "hire" a lawyer to deal with the bureaucratic morass.
Here is the systemic problem with all of that. There is no
reason why insurances need be so complicated that it takes a lawyer to navigate
even simple cases. Timmy won a sizable settlement in his case, but it took a
sizable contingency to win it. Matt might, too, although the rules have changed and
guess whose favor they changed for? The money the insurance industry infuses
into politics is truly staggering. Their lobbyists write the laws that are then
voted on by those they put into office. Nothing new? Probably, but they get
away with it for a number of reasons – foremost among them is that they
write their own regulations. Why do we let them?
Because there is no critical mass. Most people don’t have to
experience the seriousness that I or Matt do. And for less serious cases, the
potential compensation is not worth the fight to get it. Also, even if the odds
catch up to enough people – if indeed most people end up experiencing the
devastation of a significant event in their lives, it rarely happens all at
once – the outrage necessary for a popular uprising never occurs. The
exceptions are when mass disasters hit – fires, floods, earthquakes, etc., but
even then the insurance company juggernaut stands firm. And we let it.
It is time. It is time we get simple, easy to understand,
easy to use and easy to collect on insurance. Look at any large city in the US.
The one common factor is that the largest buildings are named for insurance
companies. They are not hurting; we are.