"The reality is if you get real sick, no matter if you're insured or not, you're probably financially f**ked."

That headline was posted by Sardine over at Eschaton. And they're right. It's a point I've been trying to make for a while. Health care reform isn't just about poor people, and we should stop trying to sell it to the rest of America by using that argument. I think most Americans feel a sense of empathy with those in need, but when the economy, their job, and their family's livelihood is hanging by a thread, I think that most Americans become less generous and more selfish. And I propose that we play to their selfishness when pitching health care reform.

No matter how good you think your health insurance, answer me these questions off the top of your head:

1. What's the annual limit on prescription benefits under your plan? Do you have a limit? I didn't think I did until last year when Blue Cross cut me off and I had to pay for my $250 a month asthma medicine, and more, out of my own pocket.

2. What's the lifetime limit on our major medical plan? What do I mean? Lots of health care plans only cover your major medical up until a certain point, then if you cost them too much, they cut you off. What's your cut off, and would getting cancer push you beyond that cut off?

3. How much does an appendectomy cost? We know from Joe that is costs $19,000 in Washington, DC. How much does your insurance cover? Joe has good insurance, and his still required him to pay $1,500 of that. What would yours require? You don't know? Then how do you know your insurance is so good?

4. Would your insurance pay for an MRI? For radiation and chemotherapy treatments? For a liver transplants? What if your mom or dad has cataracts? Or a detached retina? What about diabetes?

I don't think most people have a clue what their insurance really covers. I know I didn't. I simply told Blue Cross 12 years ago to give me the most expensive PPO they had, because I assumed that a PPO, and the most expensive one, was the "good" coverage.

Silly me.

I didn't know what my good plan covered until I got asthma as a result of my allergies. Now I know that my asthma drugs cost a whopping $471 a month. That's $5,652 a year. After Blue Cross' paltry share, that leaves me with $4,152 a year in asthma drugs (not counting any other prescriptions I may have to take for other unrelated problems that may arise). My insurance costs me nearly $420 a month. That's another $5,040 a year. And the premium goes up around 25% a year. Imagine how much it's going to be in ten years when I'm 55. And the joke, Blue Cross will still only give me $1500 in prescription drug coverage ten years from now - that's the way their policy works. I got $1500 when I started 12 years ago with them, and I'll have $1500 in ten years.

I have no idea what I would do if I came down with something really serious (as though my asthma isn't - I was told that things won't be pretty in 20 years if we don't get it under control now). This is how a lot of Americans live, but I think most have no idea just how precarious things are. We all love to think that our health insurance will protect us, as if Blue Cross actually gave a damn. They don't. They're a company out to make money. And helping you live doesn't help them make money - in fact, if you think about it, if you get sick, your insurance company is better off financially if you die. That's one hell of a crazy incentive to base a nation's health on.

PS And before anyone tells me - aha, you want more in drugs than you paid for your health care! - health insurance like all insurance is a gamble. For the past 45 years of my life, Blue Cross and all the rest have done pretty damn well having me on their policies. It's about time we played a little catch up.