Raising the Medicare Eligibility Age—Stories to Break Your Heart

And hopefully convince you that if you multiplied them by the inevitable tens of thousands, you would have a mass murder of American citizens that would make Al Qaida insanely jealous. I collected these online during the Simpson-Bowles committee debate in 2010, some from DU.

The Congressional Budget Office estimated that this change would save the government $124.8 billion between 2014 and 2021, and that’s not even accounting for the incremental increase. So it would actually save less than that. And, there are several things not factored into that calculation. For one, this would mainly just shift costs to businesses and individuals, and because 65 and 66 year-olds are relatively sick populations, it would mean higher overall health care spending, because providers would demand rates based on the private market rather than Medicare. Plus, younger people now in a risk pool with 65 and 66 year-olds would pay higher premiums. Second, lots of these people would go onto the exchanges, where the federal government would pay exchange subsidies. So you have to subtract that from overall savings. Third, Austin Frakt and Aaron Carroll showed that this would be bad for overall health, because people wait until their Medicare kicks in to get things taken care of. As a result, in the long run you get people coming on Medicare who are sicker on net, COSTING the government money overall.

So those are the facts about moving Medicare eligibility to 67. It’s a terrible idea all around. The other part is that it’s just a cruel thing to do. In the space of a year and a half, we went from allowing 55 year-olds to buy into Medicare to considering raising the eligibility age to 67. Only one of those two is a better deal for the American public.

My mom died at 61 while getting ready to go to work in the morning, stressed by the prospect of hoarding enough money for retirement and gobbling pain killers for her arthritis to make it through the long days in order to keep her output high enough so she wouldn't be laid off before she could collect Social Security. Age is only a state of mind when your body isn't a wreck because of your age. The idea of trying to encourage seniors to put off collecting social security in order to work longer, and the implication that collecting on the benefits of social programs that one has paid into for decades is a cop-out of some sort... offends me.

An old friend of mine died on Christmas Eve last year. The family didn't want anyone to make any calls until the day after Christmas. They said she wouldn't want to "spoil" anyone's holiday. That's her. That's they way she lived. Thinking of others. Maybe she thought it was a part of getting older. Maybe she thought the odds of this being serious weren't likely. Maybe it was the expense . Maybe it was fear. Maybe it was the million things that made her delay seeking health care in favor of taking care of everyone else in her life.

A lot of people knew she wasn't feeling well. No one insisted she get an answer for her malaise and discomfort. The bottom line is that my friend hasn't been feeling well for a long time and she didn't get adequate health care. That's the new normal in the U.S. Be sick and don't know why we're sick. She finally got to where she had to have an answer for her health problems. She got the diagnosis. The Big C. Stage IV breast cancer. That was the beginning of December. She died Christmas Eve. The cancer may have killed her, but it was really socialized neglect.

Laid off two years ago, and currently underemployed at a slightly-above-minimum wage job and filling in the gaps with freelance work. Lowest quote I could get for health insurance is more expensive than my rent (which I'm barely making as it is). Frankly, I'm afraid to go to a free clinic for a checkup. If I have some lurking illness that's terrible and expensive, what could I even do about it? At this point, all I could afford is a bullet (and I'd still have to ask someone to loan me a gun).

Yep, diabetic here and can't afford to be tested as often as I should be. I can't afford the test strips to do it at home and I can only get the meds that a local grocery pharmacy gives for free. Oh and yes, I DO have insurance, but it covers none or very little of this. I have all sorts of things I'd like to have taken care. A mole check, dental exam, female exam. I haven't been to the dentist in a few years, and I only go see my doctor (at $75/office visit) when I have an issue that needs meds. Haven't been to the OB in three years either. My husband finally found a job after two years, but no benefits are offered.

I'm really worried now because I need to go, but don't want to worry about being labeled with a pre-existing condition. I'm right around the age where things start to go wrong too. Then you worry what they will find after you haven't been to the doc’s for along time that could've been fixed had you gone earlier. What a nightmare.

I dropped my high-deductible individual policy after the premiums kept rising a minimum of 10% per year, even though I NEVER used up my $5000 deductible. When I suffered the double whammy of an injury and a slow period in my business, I ended up with medical bills that were more than I could afford but STILL didn't meet the deductible.

I realized that I couldn't keep paying premiums and also pay off the bills from my injury. I dropped the insurance after I received a notice that the premiums would go up 30% on my next birthday, because it was one of those ones that ends in a "5" or a "0."

Say they raise Medicare to 67. What difference can two years make? Two years ago, Sally noticed a breast lump. She told herself that it was “just hormones”—even though she went through menopause over a decade ago. She told herself it was “probably nothing”. Many times, she thought about seeing a doctor and getting a mammogram. But she knew what her physician would say. She needed a biopsy. And Sally had no insurance. The bank which had employed her for the last eighteen years had laid her off, just a couple of years before she would have qualified for retirement. They sent her job overseas—and sent her life in a downward spiral. Sally worked seventy hours a week in minimum wage jobs trying to keep up her house payments and cover her bills. Her jobs did not provide health insurance. She had no disability insurance, either. She was just barely getting by. And then she found the breast lump.

This year, Sally qualified for Medicare. She went to see a doctor immediately. She got that mammogram and the biopsy. Six out of ten lymph nodes were positive and she has metastases in her bones. The good news is breast cancer kills slowly. Chances are, with radiation and chemotherapy, she will still be around when her youngest child graduates from college. The bad news is she will die in pain. Excruciating pain that morphine will not even begin to control. And she will never see her grandkids. Ask Sally what difference two years can make.

Two years ago, Ted’s wife, Jane died. Jane was a public school teacher, and she had good benefits including health insurance. The couple retired early—and then, Jane had a sudden massive heart attack and died, leaving Ted alone and uninsured. His Medicare would not kick in for two more years. Ted had high blood pressure and diabetes, both of which had been well controlled up until then. However, his family doctor insisted that he get regular lab work to follow his diabetes, and Ted could not afford the tests. Before retiring, he and his wife had carefully calculated what it would cost for the two of them to live---and now he was trying to get by on half that amount. Going back to work in order to get insurance was out of the question. No one would hire a 63 year old with hypertension and diabetes.

For two years, he made his medication “last” by taking a quarter of the dose he was prescribed. When he ran out and started getting headaches, he would go to the nearby Doc-in-a-Box for refills. Each time, he saw a different doctor. Each doctor advised him to see his regular doctor for check ups. Each time he agreed. He was not lying. He really did intend to get that check up—just as soon as he had insurance again.

Two days before his 65th birthday, Ted suffered a stroke. Now, he is paralyzed over the right side of his body and unable to speak. Doctors say his high blood pressure and uncontrolled diabetes did it. Ted will spend the rest of his life in a nursing home. The bills will be paid by Medicare and Medicaid. The church where Ted taught Sunday school classes will miss him. The neighbors will miss him, too. His grown kids wonder why he never came to them for money for his medical expenses. But Ted was brought up to believe that parents should look after their children, not the other way around. He was told that a man must be independent. Now, he has to ask a nurse for help each time he wants to use the bathroom. Ask Ted was difference two years can make. But don't expect an answer. He still can't talk.

I am 68. I retired at 65. Right after I retired I required 2 stents. Bill? Close to 100 grand. Without Medicare I would not have lived passed 65. Ask me what the difference is.

At 57 my dad could no longer get insurance on the open market. He was healthy, but the insurance companies were all skittish and came up with reason after reason to deny him, regardless of what his primary care physician said about his current and previous health status.

Being a small business owner (and I mean small) meant that my mom had to work until he could get on Medicare, even though she was older and could have retired. She made a deal with her boss to cut to part time and then pay for the health insurance benefit. If her boss hadn't been so understanding and my mom hadn't been so good at what she does, my dad would have spent several years without insurance at a time in a man's life when he probably should have it most. It also meant he had to stay in business longer—until the crashing economy destroyed it and ate up my mother's retirement. Raising the age to get Medicare is unconscionable. I can't believe it's even on the table.

One of my friends here got breast cancer at 63. She had just lost her job, because the business closed. She faced her diagnosis with no insurance. Her husband has Medicare. She told him to let her die. He would not do it. She is 65 now, and on Medicare. They are $63,000.00 in debt. This is the real figure.

She is doing well physically and emotionally. She works at a local grocery store to help pay off the debt. It will never be paid off. Who knows, maybe she is one of the lucky ones. She did not die.

I am 57. In a perfect world, I will stay healthy, my firm will want to keep me forever instead of replacing me with a lower paid younger worker, and birds will always sing and the sun will always shine. But the world is not perfect. If I lose my job in my early 60's, will I be able to afford to buy health insurance on the open market? I shudder when I try to guess what that would cost...someone at that age, who will no doubt have SOME physical ailment(s), as most seniors do. I would be hoping to hang on until I get Medicare at 65, and even then, unless I get supplemental coverage, that wouldn't cover that much. But it's something.

So to ask me, and others in that age range, to wait until 67 to get partial health coverage, when they've paid in all their working lives....WHEN THE RICH ARE RAKING IN TONS OF MONEY DUE TO LOWER TAXES...that just isn't right. AND WHEN THAT PROVISION IN MEDICARE ACT STILL EXISTS, THE ONE WHERE WE CAN'T NEGOTIATE PRICES FOR DRUGS....that is unconscionable. It's wrong. It's cruel. It's asking the most vulnerable to sacrifice, when the least vulnerable refuse to. Even if the wealthy lose a couple of tax loopholes...like that is the same thing as going without health care for two more years? It makes me sick just thinking about it.

I have a relative on disability. It's almost impossible to survive on no income for the waiting period...which is the point. Less people to have to approve. As Stalin was reputed to have said: “Death solves all problems—no man, no problem.” Funny to see us adopting the same stance...

If my mom had to wait until she turned 67 for Medicare, she would be dead now. Both of my grandfathers died in their late sixties, after a lifetime of hard manual labor. Both were staunch Democrats, by the way, and gave FDR the credit for their having a little something to live on when they retired. I'm glad they didn't live to see this.

My brother would have been 65 tomorrow, but he died from pancreatic cancer in early April of this year. Like my father who died at 64 from heart failure and my sister who is very ill and will be 63 in August probably will not reach the magic number for retirement either. I hadn't seen my brother since my father's funeral in 1985. He was one of the lost souls of Vietnam. Severely wounded by a 'popper', even winning two bronze stars for bravery in combat. Lyndon Johnson even pinned his Purple Heart on him when he arrived home to recover. He lost part of his foot and hand and had shrapnel in him they never removed. He came home and was briefly married, and fathered a daughter. Spent most of his years after that lost like so many of his brothers in arms. We had thought he had died years ago since there had been no contact with him from anyone in our families. But in April something told me to try and find him again. What I found was his obituary.

Neither my dad or my brother got to enjoy 'retirement'. And now the wealthy pricks in Washington are trying to make it worse for the rest of us. I am sure the system failed my brother, because if it was a caring system, he would have found the help he needed long ago. All they provided was hospice in the end.

I am 55 years old, skilled teacher, enthusiastic worker, and can't even get FACE TIME to interview for a teaching contract. Haven't had full employment in over three years. Haven't earned a living wage in over three years. Unemployment runs out in a few weeks. Probably just in time for me to have sold most of my belongings to prepare for homelessness. Don't suggest that I go 'live with family,' because I have no children and I grew up in an alcoholic family rife with physical, mental, and sexual abuse (..oh, for which I am blamed, ironically). I am hopeful that I can prepare myself for the loneliness, the isolation, the abject fear that is part and parcel of being homeless and POOR in this 'great country.' I am pretty sure I have the anger part down pat...

At least my elderly cat has died, so she won't be an additional worry in determining just where I can 'lay low like Brer Rabbit' during the remainder of my time on this planet. Have to figure out how to keep and feed my 13 YO dog...Have to find a way to cling desperately to the last shreds of my now elusive joie de vivre... So many decisions, so little time...

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