วันศุกร์ที่ 12 ธันวาคม พ.ศ. 2551

When a Job Disappears, So Does the Health Care


ASHLAND, Ohio — As jobless numbers reach levels not seen in 25 years, another crisis is unfolding for millions of people who lost their health insurance along with their jobs, joining the ranks of the uninsured.

The crisis is on display here. Starla D. Darling, 27, was pregnant when she learned that her insurance coverage was about to end. She rushed to the hospital, took a medication to induce labor and then had an emergency Caesarean section, in the hope that her Blue Cross and Blue Shield plan would pay for the delivery.

Wendy R. Carter, 41, who recently lost her job and her health benefits, is struggling to pay $12,942 in bills for a partial hysterectomy at a local hospital. Her daughter, Betsy A. Carter, 19, has pain in her lower right jaw, where a wisdom tooth is growing in. But she has not seen a dentist because she has no health insurance.

Ms. Darling and Wendy Carter are among 275 people who worked at an Archway cookie factory here in north central Ohio. The company provided excellent health benefits. But the plant shut down abruptly this fall, leaving workers without coverage, like millions of people battered by the worst economic crisis since the Depression.

About 10.3 million Americans were unemployed in November, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics. The number of unemployed has increased by 2.8 million, or 36 percent, since January of this year, and by 4.3 million, or 71 percent, since January 2001.

Most people are covered through the workplace, so when they lose their jobs, they lose their health benefits. On average, for each jobless worker who has lost insurance, at least one child or spouse covered under the same policy has also lost protection, public health experts said.

Expanding access to health insurance, with federal subsidies, was a priority for President-elect Barack Obama and the new Democratic Congress. The increase in the ranks of the uninsured, including middle-class families with strong ties to the work force, adds urgency to their efforts.

“This shows why — no matter how bad the condition of the economy — we can’t delay pursuing comprehensive health care,” said Senator Sherrod Brown, Democrat of Ohio. “There are too many victims who are innocent of anything but working at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Some parts of the federal safety net are more responsive to economic distress. The number of people on food stamps set a record in September, with 31.6 million people receiving benefits, up by two million in one month.

Nearly 4.4 million people are receiving unemployment insurance benefits, an increase of 60 percent in the past year. But more than half of unemployed workers are not receiving help because they do not qualify or have exhausted their benefits.

About 1.7 million families receive cash under the main federal-state welfare program, little changed from a year earlier. Welfare serves about 4 of 10 eligible families and fewer than one in four poor children.

In a letter dated Oct. 3, Archway told workers that their jobs would be eliminated, and their insurance terminated on Oct. 6, because of “unforeseeable business circumstances.” The company, owned by a private equity firm based in Greenwich, Conn., filed a petition for relief under Chapter 11 of the Bankruptcy Code.

Archway workers typically made $13 to $20 an hour. To save money in a tough economy, they are canceling appointments with doctors and dentists, putting off surgery, and going without prescription medicines for themselves and their children.

Archway cited “the challenging economic environment” as a reason for closing.

“We have been operating at a loss due largely to the significant increases in raw material costs, such as flour, butter, sugar and dairy, and the record high fuel costs across the country,” the company said.

At this time of year, the Archway plant would usually be bustling as employees worked overtime to make Christmas cookies. This year the plant is silent. The aromas of cinnamon and licorice are missing. More than 40 trailers sit in the parking lot with nothing to haul.

In the weeks before it filed for bankruptcy protection, Archway apparently fell behind in paying for its employee health plan. In its bankruptcy filing, Archway said it owed more than $700,000 to Blue Cross and Blue Shield of Illinois, one of its largest creditors.

Richard D. Jackson, 53, was an oven operator at the bakery for 30 years. Mr. Jackson and his two daughters often used the Archway health plan to pay for doctor’s visits, imaging, surgery and medicines. Now that he has no insurance, he takes his Effexor antidepressant pills every other day, rather than daily, as prescribed.

Another former Archway employee, Jeffrey D. Austen, 50, said he had canceled shoulder surgery scheduled for Oct. 13 at the Cleveland Clinic because he had no way to pay for it.

“I had already lined up an orthopedic surgeon and an anesthesiologist,” Mr. Austen said.

In mid-October, Janet M. Esbenshade, 37, who had been a packer at the Archway plant, began to notice that her vision was blurred. “My eyes were burning, itching and watery,” Ms. Esbenshade said. “Pus was oozing out. If I had had insurance, I would have gone to an eye doctor right away.”

She waited two weeks. The infection became worse. She went to the hospital on Oct. 26. Doctors found that she had keratitis, a painful condition that she may have picked up from an old pair of contact lenses. They prescribed antibiotics, which have cleared up the infection.

Ms. Esbenshade has two daughters, ages 6 and 10, with asthma. She has explained to them why “we are not Christmas shopping this year — unless, by some miracle, Mommy goes back to work and gets a paycheck.”

She said she had told the girls, “I would rather you stay out of the hospital and take your medication than buy you a little toy right now because I think your health is more important.”

วันอาทิตย์ที่ 7 ธันวาคม พ.ศ. 2551

Private deliveries costly


IN THE island's public hospitals, including Victoria Jubilee in Kingston, delivery services are free. If one walks through the doors with a referral, one will not pay for antenatal care, doctors' fees, the paediatrician, a Caesarean section (C-section), or any tests to be done, including ultrasounds.

At the islands' private hospitals, fees, including the charge made by doctors in attendance, can leave parents out of pocket by as much as $160,000.

But, the service is said to be a cut above the rest, with some facilities promising personalised service, gift baskets and even a photo-shoot afterwards with baby and mom.

Ann-Shauna Greenfrom Kingston paid a total of $120,000 for the birth of her first child in 2005, and in 2007, $165,000 for the second.

Today, the cost might be higher. Our research shows that doctors' fees in December 2008 range from $30,000-$135,000, a sum which does not include hospital charges, which start from $40,000 upwards in private facilities.

On both occasions, the costs for Ann-Shauna Green included the price of a C-section.

She explains, "I had to do a C-section because I had fibroids and the second time I had to do a C-section because I did a C-section the first."

Green selected Andrews Memorial Hospital she said, because her doctor worked there and also because she did not know she had to register months in advance to get into a public hospital.

For both deliveries, the couple used insurance, which helped them to cover about 70 per cent of the costs.

Little things

Green claims: "I was appalled at the cost of little things, like needles and bed sheets, that the hospital billed us for. It was outrageous! I had to shut my eyes and pay it or I wouldn't have been able to get my child registered."

To have a child delivered at Andrews Hospital, currently, one has to register in the seventh month and pay a deposit of $45,000. The final bill, which might be between $55,000 and $60,000, will depend on materials used and length of stay in the hospital

These charges do not include the fee for C-sections, the doctors' bills, the paediatrician's bill, and any additional tests done.

The paediatrician's fee is $4,500 per visit at Andrews. The cost of a private room at the hospital is $8,000 daily. For a semi-private room in which there are two persons, mothers will pay $7,000.

Hospital stay might be as much as three days to a week if there is a C-section done or if other complications arise.

University Hospital

At the University Hospital of The West Indies (UHWI) in St Andrew, which is not classified as a public hospital, those using the public clinic for delivery will pay $12,000 and up for a normal delivery. This includes antenatal care, plus one night's stay at the hospital. The mother's booking fee or deposit will be $10,000.

The cost of doing a C-section at the training hospital is $30,000. A deposit of $15,000 is required for this operation.

If one needs additional tests or needs drugs, the bill will go up. The UHWI charges $1,200 for one day's room and board, a cost which will be multiplied if a C-section is done or if complications set in and the mother's stay needs to be longer.

Private-birthing services are also offered at the UHWI. For this, the cost of antenatal care is $30,000. An ultrasound will cost $3,500. There are no private rooms at this hospital but the private fee ensures that you are assigned the doctor of your choice. Those who use the public clinic will be seen by any doctors available.

Nuttall

Nuttall Memorial Hospital in St Andrew also offers private-birthing facilities. A deposit of $40,000 is required at this hospital.

The cost of a C-section here is $120,000 without insurance. For normal deliveries, the hospital bill otherwise might be as high as $60,000, depending on medication, room and board and the use of disposables.

The cost of room and board at Nuttall is $6,500 per night. If your doctor does not work at Nuttall, you will be assigned to one who does.

At Nuttall, the paediatrician's fee is $15,000 upwards, which is different from the doctor's delivery fee. To use services at Nuttall, one must book delivery by the seventh month of pregnancy.

วันจันทร์ที่ 1 ธันวาคม พ.ศ. 2551

After mother's slaying, daughter awaits dad's fate


By MEGHAN BARR, The Associated Press 2:01 a.m. November 30, 2008

JACKSON, Ohio — Her father waits behind a glass wall, clothed in the jail standard gray-and-white striped shirt and pants. He has tidied up some since their last visit: What's left of his thinning hair has been trimmed, and his face is clean of stubble.
Debby Crabtree approaches the row of prisoners. They are seated in small glass pods – like telephone booths, she thinks. The inmates have just 30 minutes to connect with the outside world before the guards will lead them away.
"I wanted to know, was he OK, was he getting his medications?" Crabtree explains. "You know, things you would want to know about your dad. It's almost as if he were in a hospital."
Instead, her father, 74-year-old David Evans Sr., is one of the oldest souls locked up in the Scioto County Jail. If convicted at trial in January, he could become one of the oldest people ever sentenced to death in Ohio.
The story of how Evans got here began decades ago, when he was just a teenager who fell head-over-heels in love and married his high school sweetheart. Together they raised an old-fashioned farming family, tilling land in a lush valley of southern Ohio.
But now his wife, Carol Evans, is gone – and police say he hired someone to kill her. Day by day, memory by memory, their eldest daughter looks into the past and struggles to understand what might has happened.
"By the time it all settles out, I've lost my mom, I've lost my dad," Crabtree says, fighting back tears. "I've never seen my father as a person capable of this kind of evil."
Dave Evans has pleaded not guilty to murder, aggravated murder and conspiracy to commit aggravated murder, among other charges.
During these fleeting jail visits, Crabtree, 55, does not dwell on what she calls the ugliness.
"Over the years," she observes later, "love and hate can get mixed up."
She tries to forget how, on a sunny morning in March, she drove along a road rimmed with cornstalks to the sand-colored farmhouse where she grew up. She tries to forget climbing the staircase to her mother's bedroom, and the sight of her mother's body, strangled with an extension cord.
Crabtree takes a seat on a stool facing the window and picks up the phone.
–––
The man came alone, and he had a key.
A few hours before dawn on March 26, he slipped inside the house where Carol Evans was sleeping.
Spotless as usual, the brown-paneled home bore signs of her orderly routine – shoes laid out neatly in front of the couch, suitcase packed for an upcoming trip.
At the foot of the stairs, arranged in a perfect row in order of age, hung the photographs of her five children: Dave Jr., Debby, Mike, Randy and Ellen.
"She used to tell people that she would pray for her kids in order at night," Crabtree says. "And sometimes she fell asleep before she got to Randy, and she felt bad about that."
Her assailant climbed the stairs. When police arrived, they found closet doors ajar, blankets and sheets pulled from shelves and tossed around the upstairs hallway.
The man stole a revolver and a lockbox containing cash and jewelry. The gun and some of the jewelry were later recovered.
Left untouched was the display case filled with Carol Evans' prized collection of elephant figurines: elephants made of glass and brass, some with their trunks raised to the sky, for good luck.
The crime rattled this town of about 6,000 people where murders are rare, according to Lt. John Manering of the Jackson County sheriff's office.
Carol Evans was a gracious, well-respected former high school principal, and the family name is prominent locally. There's the Evans Center, a downtown strip mall, and the Evans-owned Chevron gas station, which shut down last fall. And there's the Evans farmland, more than 900 acres of it, trampled by cattle and hogs, planted with corn and soybeans.
The clan is among a fading breed of farming families here. They work and play together – aunts, uncles and cousins included. They go to high school football games, cook Sunday dinners. They've always lived this way, Crabtree says, only they used to congregate at her mother's house.
"One time at Myrtle Beach last summer, a lady came up and asked if she could take a picture of us because she could see that we were four generations of women," she said. "She just thought that was wonderful."
But the investigation into her mother's death led police to the center of the family. On June 9, police arrested Dave Evans Sr.
"He was a prime suspect from the beginning," says Jackson County Sheriff John Shasteen. "As for motive, as far as I'm concerned it's just pure greed. He wanted all the assets, all the money."
–––
He was a football player, she was a cheerleader. They were picture-perfect sweethearts, their images sealed forever in the pages of their high school yearbook: the broad-shouldered, athletic boy and the pretty, dark-haired girl.
Dave Evans and Carol Miller got married on March 1, 1952, when she was president of the junior class and he was a senior at Oak Hill High School, a few miles outside of Jackson. Nine months later, their first child was born.
"They were just young and crazy in love," Crabtree says.
They had four more babies, purchased a large plot of farmland and set about raising their children. Carol Evans would drive a tractor while her sons helped their father in the fields.
She went back to school and steadily climbed the ranks as an educator. Her husband farmed and ran a string of successful small businesses.
"He liked to start things and watch them grow," Crabtree says. "And then move on to the next thing."
Their land holdings grew, and so did the family's assets. At the time of Carol's death, the couple's revocable trust was worth at least $1 million. Her life insurance policy amounted to $500,000.
But as the years passed and the children grew up, the marriage began to disintegrate.
"I knew there were times maybe Dave and Carol had marital problems," says Mayor Randy Heath. "It's not a big town. Everybody talks."
The courts documented their fractured relationship. Dave Evans filed for divorce in 1984. They remarried 10 years later. Four months after that, he filed for divorce again.
"I mean, what can you say?" Crabtree says. "We used to joke about it. `Does anyone know if Mom and Dad are married right now?'"
They remarried for the last time in 1996.
Her father was the driving force behind each divorce, Crabtree says.
"My mom never left. She stayed at the farm," she said. "My mom has always been the heart of the family. She has always been his rock."
In the weeks before the slaying, Dave Evans spent most nights in his apartment downtown. But Carol still looked after him, arranging his medications – aftereffects of a debilitating stroke in 2006 – in small pill containers so that he wouldn't forget to take them, Shasteen says.
"Dave was a hard-working man who made some very bad decisions," says county Prosecutor Jonathan Blanton.
"At what point do you make a decision that your wife ought to be dead?" he asks. "That's the $64,000 question. When did this seem like a good idea?"
–––
Sometime during the summer of 2007, police say Dave Evans Sr. began offering money for the killing of his wife.
At the time, according to authorities, he was having a relationship with a 28-year-old named Heather Speakman. She was a drug addict who often ran into trouble with the law, police say. Her criminal record lists charges ranging from petty theft to assault. Her mother, Rhonda Bailey, ran the Evans Chevron station.
"When Heather was in jail, that was the first time we really suspected something," Crabtree says. "Someone told us Dad went to visit her."
Her father was behaving strangely – taking phone calls from strange people, handing out money to people who couldn't pay him back, Crabtree says. Speakman later told police that Evans gave her more than $100,000, but denied having a sexual relationship with him.
Privately, the family wondered if Evans had fully recovered from the stroke, suffered as he was climbing into the back of a pickup truck. They wondered if he might be getting himself into some kind of trouble. It never occurred to them, Crabtree says, that their mother might be in danger.
Police say the scheme to kill Carol Evans dragged on for months.
The turning point came on March 19, a week before her death. Speakman introduced Evans to a friend of hers: Terry Vance, 30, who had been convicted years earlier of drug possession.
Vance agreed to kill Carol Evans for $50,000, police say. To facilitate the crime, Dave Evans Sr. obtained a 1999 Mazda Protege and a key to the house, Manering says.
Arrests came in quick succession.
Vance and Speakman struck deals, pleading guilty to conspiracy to commit aggravated murder, among other charges, and agreeing to testify against Evans. Vance later confessed to the slaying but was sentenced to 18 years in prison on the original charges, Blanton says.
A third person, 49-year-old Randy Faught, pleaded guilty to extortion and was sentenced to five years in prison. Authorities say Faught blackmailed Evans and threatened to expose the alleged plot to police.
Blanton says all three – rooted in Jackson's illicit drug scene – accepted money to kill Carol Evans at some point during the past two years.
"No one came forward and gave police the opportunity to stop this – in spite of all the knowing," Blanton says.
Evans' attorney, Rick Faulkner, insists that his client is not guilty.
Crabtree says the notion that her father could have arranged her mother's death for the money is incomprehensible. Her siblings declined to be interviewed.
"If it's about numbers, there's always been a lot of money," she says. "I can't reconcile that."
As the days grow shorter in southern Ohio and Crabtree watches autumn bleed into winter, every day brings a new reminder of her mother's absence.
Crabtree's daughter Sarah, who says her grandmother was her best friend, is adamant that this tragedy will not define the family's legacy.
"It's so far from what our family is and has ever been and ever will be," says the 31-year-old law student. "It's not my Grandma's legacy, I know that for sure."
But as family members wait for this chapter to be committed to history, they struggle to make sense of it.
"It's not all about my dad, for lack of a better word, losing his mind and coming up with a plan to do away with Mom," Crabtree says. "He wasn't going to replace Mom with Heather Speakman."
She pauses, thinking.
"But maybe it'll be just this simple. Maybe it'll be exactly what they say it is."