In recent months, I have become increasingly aware of the lack of care, compassion, and competence on the part of Medicaid level providers as compared to their private insurance counterparts.
Medicaid patients are losing their lives as a result of these differences.
On the Day that George and John were born, their parents, in a fog of addiction, gave them up at local safe drop off stations, George on one day at one such station and John on another day at another station. As fraternal twins, they looked nothing alike. They bore no identical traits other than the propensity for addiction that lingered quietly within them.
George woke up in his tent in a "homeless people's encampment." He glanced over at his tent mate, a young lady in her twenties. She lay there blue and lifeless with a noticeable facial injury, the result of a date gone bad just hours before. This, combined with other recent street deaths of friends by overdose, pneumonia and one out of control car and his own multiple overdoses saved by Narcan in recent months watered a seed of rational thinking that had laid dormant for years within George.