[Marxism] From the Sick house to the Jail house

Greg McDonald sabocat59 at gmail.com
Thu Oct 1 16:39:15 MDT 2009


Imagine getting sick, getting bills you can't pay, then being sent to jail
Lawsuits, lost wages, even jail can result

By Janell Ross • THE TENNESSEAN • September 28, 2009

Kenneth Hoagland went to jail for what started as a cold.

Hoagland had refinanced his Nashville home to pay off the $25,000 tab
for his weeklong diabetes-related stay at Southern Hills Medical

The new mortgage left Hoagland out of medical debt but afraid to get sick again.

Unfortunately, he did. In 2004, Hoagland was in a health insurance
waiting period on a new job when a cold turned into two days at
Vanderbilt University Medical Center. This time, the bill was just
over $1,200.

When a collection attorney working for Vanderbilt filed suit in 2005,
Hoagland was afraid to take time off from work to show up in court.
After a series of hearings, attempts to collect the debt and what
Hoagland says were genuine efforts to pay it, an attorney working for
Vanderbilt asked a judge to issue what's known as a body attachment.

One Friday in late 2008, a sheriff's deputy went to Hoagland's home.
Because he was at work, Hoagland was allowed to turn himself in the
following Monday.

"They fingerprinted me, took my picture and asked some questions about
my medical history," he said. "When the guy who tested (my blood
sugar) asked me why I was there and I told him … he said, 'I didn't
know we did that in this country.' I told him, 'Until now, I didn't
either.' "

Hoagland, 36, is one of the hundreds of thousands of Americans —
insured and uninsured — facing collection suits, wage garnishments
and, more rarely, trips to jail because of medical debt.

On the other side are doctors and hospitals that say they try to work
with debtors and provide millions in free care, but unpaid medical
bills affect their ability to care for others.

Medical debt isn't closely tracked by courts, but it's one of the many
types of debt collection suits that keep Davidson County's General
Sessions Courts so busy that the people at the center of those cases
sometimes fill the courtroom's audience seating and even the jury box.
(2 of 7)

But it's the docket, the list of cases that will be heard in Courtroom
5D on any given day and the people with cases on it, that really tells
the story. Some entries reveal the types of services rendered.

There are cases filed by Associates in Gastroenterology, the
Anesthesia Medical Group and Nashville Bone and Joint PLLC. And then,
there are the names of nearly all the area's hospitals.

The suits represent attempts to collect on bills that in cases
examined this summer ranged from $81 to $22,000. They are, in most
cases, bills patients never expected to accumulate.

Judge Dan Eisenstein, one of the judges who hears these cases in
Courtroom 5D, said debtors summoned to court often dispute just how
much is owed to a landlord or whether a credit card debt is really

But debtors rarely dispute medical bills.

"There's not a lot of dispute because people just have no choice," he
said. "They needed the care, and the law says they have to cover their

"But it's certainly tough to come into this courtroom and see people
who have been sick or hurt and cannot pay their bills."
Medical bankruptcy rises

A study published in the American Journal of Medicine this year found
that medical debt is deeply damaging the finances of American

Based on a survey of 2007 filings, researchers estimate 62.1 percent
of all bankruptcies that year were caused by medical debt and that 92
percent of these cases involved medical bills totaling more than
$5,000, or 10 percent of the family's total pretax income.

Other cases met the researchers' criteria for "medical bankruptcy"
because they had lost significant income from illness or mortgaged a
home to pay medical debt.

Most medical debtors contacted by researchers were well-educated,
owned homes and had middle-class occupations. Seventy-five percent of
those surveyed had health insurance.

And, researchers found, the issue of medical debt has grown over time.
Between 2001 and 2007, the share of bankruptcies attributable to
medical problems rose by 49.6 percent.
(3 of 7)

Hoagland, who works in information technology, never filed bankruptcy
or disputed his bill. Instead, he made payment arrangements with
Vanderbilt and tried to keep them.

Sometimes he and his fiancée, Sonya Davis, had to choose between
paying their mortgage or $200 a month on medical bills, Davis said.
When that happened, they paid the mortgage. They figured the family
had to have a place to live, and the house had belonged to Hoagland's

Then Vanderbilt filed suit. When Hoagland missed a hearing because of
a work emergency, the court ruled in his absence that Vanderbilt was
due the full amount. He missed two more court dates aimed at
determining his assets.

A judge issued a body attachment — a document issued in civil cases
that demands defendants explain why they didn't appear in court.
Sheriff's deputies find the defendants and, in many cases, take them
to jail, where they are allowed to post bond quickly.

It's a rare action — out of 32,126 debt cases in General Sessions
Court in 2008, for example, judges issued 98 body attachments.

Hoagland made bond and the $250 that he paid was applied to his debt.
His wages were garnisheed for several months, and he thought he was
paid up. Then a bill arrived several weeks ago for $70 — one he said
he'll pay without question.
People delay care

Davis said the experience changed their lives.

"The choice now is, do I stay sick? Because if I go run up this bill
and can't pay for it and then get arrested again, what then? What are
you supposed to do?" she said.

Two months ago, they faced that question. Hoagland went to bed with a
cold and woke up so listless that Davis knew immediately something was

His blood sugar was at 39. Hoagland's blood sugar is supposed to stay
between 80 and 120. He could barely speak.

"I called the ambulance," Davis said. "And I hate to admit this, but
as soon as they got here, I thought, 'Oh God, I hope they aren't going
to have to take him.' He was sick, but I know he was probably
thinking, 'We can't afford another set of medical bills.' "
(4 of 7)

The ambulance crew wanted to take Hoagland to the hospital but agreed
to let Davis make him some breakfast and see if his blood sugar levels
would normalize. They wouldn't leave until Hoagland drank some orange
juice with a bit of sugar stirred in and his blood sugar surged.

As extreme as Hoagland's attempt to avoid another hospital bill may
sound, it's not uncommon, said Shana Alex Lavarreda, the director of
health insurance studies at the University of California, Los Angeles
Center for Health Policy Research.

As a result of a study released by the center this year, Lavarreda
began to hear troubling stories from people across the country who had
delayed medical care because of existing medical debt.

"Delays in care could be something as serious as reattaching a portion
of a finger or not or getting the respirator that you need," she said.

The situation highlights the fact that many insurance policies carry a
high deductible. This can turn out to be burdensome for families
without significant savings if someone becomes ill, Lavarreda said.
Drama outside courtroom

What happens inside Courtroom 5D at General Sessions Court can pale in
comparison to the high drama in the hallway outside.

There, hospital debt collectors pull defendants to the side for hushed
conversations about what they can realistically pay. If they can
figure something out, defendants don't have to go back inside. The
payment arrangement is entered into court records, and the person who
owes the debt must pay it.

On Sept. 11, all the good hallway spots — with seating — were taken.
So Centennial Medical Center's attorney beckoned Stacy Grondin up to
the long tables where prosecutors and defendants usually sit facing
the judge during trials.

The conversation was about the $997.74 bill Grondin incurred in 2006
at Centennial when her heart rate spiked.

"I really thought I was having a heart attack," she said.

Grondin, a grocery store manager, is insured. But she went to the
hospital in an ambulance, and that required pre-approval from the
insurance company.
(5 of 7)

So did her choice to seek care in an emergency room. She didn't have
approval for that either. So when it turned out the problem was
anxiety or a condition doctors couldn't precisely determine, her claim
was denied.

Tom Norris, Centennial's attorney, leaned in close.

"What kind of payment can you make?" he asked.

"I think maybe $50," Grondin said.

Norris accepted but declined to comment about Grondin's case or the
collection process when approached by a reporter.

On that day, the bill was actually $1,246.96 — the original amount
plus $161.75 in court costs and $87.47 in interest fees. The court
costs are tacked on after collection efforts fail and a suit is filed.
Interest accrues on medical debt at up to 10 percent after a court
issues an order to pay.

But for Grondin, 35 and a single mother of three, that's not even the
sum total of her medical debt.

While Grondin discussed her bill with Norris, her 9-year-old daughter,
Emily, sat in the courtroom's gallery waiting for her mom to finish
and take her to the doctor. Grondin feared Emily might have swine flu.

The little girl with the robin's-egg blue eyes and a pair of silvery
scars on her forehead heard every word of the payment discussion.

Emily barely survived a 2003 car accident with her father at the
wheel. He'd been drinking. She wasn't strapped in. A LifeFlight
helicopter took her to Vanderbilt's children's hospital, where doctors
saved her life.

Now Emily's father is in prison because of that accident, and her
mother is trying to pay $2,115.25 in medical debt charged to a credit
card. That's the 20 percent of Emily's bill that insurance didn't
cover, plus court costs and interest.

"They sent papers to my job a couple of months ago saying they are
going to garnish my wages, I think for her accident," Grondin said.
"But that hasn't started yet."

Grondin said she's not sure how to feel. There's the reality that
services were rendered. But then there's the fact that she is insured
and still left with medical bills, collectors' phone calls and soon,
maybe, a wage garnishment.
(6 of 7)

"I know it's our responsibility. It is ultimately my responsibility to
pay," she said. "But ... when I first saw all the bills I was kind of
mad because I am paying for this insurance which I barely use. Then,
when it's needed, it's hardly there."

Grondin's medical debt story doesn't end there. Her boyfriend, who has
two children of his own, recently declared bankruptcy because he
couldn't have afforded child support and other bills if his wages were
garnisheed to collect more than $7,000 in medical bills.
'It's good to have a plan'

Michael Wade Taylor, 57, was in Courtroom 5D just after 9 a.m. Aug. 28
when Judge Eisenstein called his name and case. Wedged between two men
with debt cases of their own, Taylor stood and answered clearly,

Southern Hills Medical Center's attorney waved him into the hallway to
work something out.

Today, Taylor is an unemployed construction worker. He had a job but
no insurance in 2006, when doctors initially thought he'd had a

He spent several days in intensive care at Southern Hills, having a
stent threaded from his groin to his heart to check for blockages.
Later, he took a stress test on a treadmill.

The eventual diagnosis: "They told me I had the heart of a teenager
and didn't know what was wrong with me," Taylor said. "They sent me
home, and since that time I kept going down and going down.

"Then I find out that for those four days they charged me $33,000.
Thirty-three thousand dollars for nothing."

Hospital staff checked to see if he could qualify for TennCare —
state-subsidized medical coverage — but his income was too high. Then
they talked with him about financial aid and setting up a payment
plan. Taylor said he didn't qualify because he didn't have a checking

The bills started coming, then the phone calls, then the loss of his
job in 2008.

Turns out either he didn't have the heart of a teenager or it aged
very quickly, Taylor said. Two months ago, he had open-heart surgery
for an arterial blockage. This time, because he was unemployed,
TennCare paid the tab.
(7 of 7)

He and Southern Hills' attorney reached an agreement that would let
Taylor pay $20 a month until he covers $3,000 of the bill from three
years ago.

"It's good to have some kind of plan," he said. "Really having that
hanging over me was just something that took a situation from bad to
Hospitals provide free care

Deals like Taylor's — taking a $33,000 bill down to $3,000 — aren't
uncommon, area hospital systems say. They give away millions in
medical care each year.

Meanwhile, they say, unpaid medical debt keeps them from covering
important capital costs — such as replacing buildings and equipment —
or improving treatment and services.

Each has a policy of absorbing or forgiving some medical debt, but
that benefits the poorest and most severely ill patients. Employees
help some patients who qualify, such as Taylor, enroll in TennCare.

In fiscal year 2009, for example, Vanderbilt had $274.3 million in
unpaid medical bills and absorbed about $197.9 million of that. It
writes off debt for patients whose bills exceed their annual income or
who earn less than 250 percent of the federal poverty rate — about
$55,000 for a family of four.

Vanderbilt provides almost half of all the uncompensated care
delivered in Davidson County, spokesman John Howser said.

TriStar Health System, which operates five health-care facilities in
the Nashville area, offers similar help for low-income patients.

"The No. 1 reason for charity care denials is that they do not submit
the application," spokeswoman Teri Smith said.

The hospital system provided about $158 million in uncompensated care
during calendar year 2008. This figure includes unpaid medical debt,
bills that the hospital wrote off for its poorest patients and
discounts offered to uninsured patients, Smith said.

Saint Thomas Health Services, which operates Saint Thomas and Baptist
hospitals, is owed $90 million in unpaid medical debt for services
provided over the past three years, spokeswoman Rebecca Climer said.

This figure does not include what the hospital system has forgiven or
provided free to patients who cannot pay, Climer said. The system is a
part of Ascension Health, the largest not-for-profit health-care
system in the nation.

The hospital has a fiscal responsibility to attempt to collect unpaid
debt from those who can pay, Climer said.

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