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I attended today's town hall meeting on health care reform hosted by Rep. Jan Schakowsky of Illinois' 9th Congressional District. First, I'd be remiss if I didn't say how proud I am to tell you that Jan is my rep.
A gentleman, who identified himself as an attorney for health insurance actuarial industry, said that as soon as you file a claim you become a “claimant,” and that makes you liability to the for-profit insurer. He continued that at this point, the claimant starts costing the insurer money. The lengths they will then go to to rid the claimant are immoral, at best.
I approached him after the meeting and told him a little about myself. I have a chronic illness and since a relatively young age, early 30s, I’ve been on medication that costs Americans about $300 a month; that I had been employed by a Fortune 500 company; that my illness actually protects me under the Americans with Disabilities Act of 1990; and that I had been among the first wave of layoffs in the early days of the recession. I told him that, in order to be protected by the ADA, I was required to disclose my illness to my employer. Then I asked him if he, like I, believe that my health care provider shared my allegedly confidential health care information with my employer, and if so, do I have any legal recourse, and finally, if I do have legal recourse, why hasn’t there been a class action lawsuit by now?
He said that since I worked for such a large corporation, I probably have a case. Only then did I share with him this one caveat. Upon my dismissal, in order to receive my severance pay, I had to sign a release form that said I could not sue the company for any reason. That was December 31, 2007, the recession had just begun. In the months to come, people were being laid off at a frightening rate.
When you lose your job, not only do you lose your means, without your severance, you lose the ability to pay for your health care. Many things run through your mind—My god, my house! My health care! I’m doomed!–all the while, your employer is holding a gun to your head forcing you to waive your right to sue.
The attorney chuckled while shaking his head in disbelief; this was a new one to him. He said that unfortunately, you signed a contract that states you will accept a sum of money in lieu of filing a law suit. While thanking him for his time, I noted, “It’s an evil little racket,” to which he replied, “Yes it is.”
Is there a lesson to be learned? I do believe there is. We need to find those, even if it be a single individual, who can be persuaded not to sign such a waiver, and raise money to fund his or her law suit for wrongful termination.
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