Last Thursday night I was totally ready to write a blog post about whatever was going on back then--something along the line of taxes or benefits or something. But then I started feeling kind of sleepy and queasy and I decided it was bed time.
My body did not agree. I was up all night getting sick in all kinds of ways. When Taylor woke up at 3:40 A.M. the next morning, he found a big mess in our little bathroom and one very sick fiancee in bed. Besides a bottle of Tylenol, we had nothing on hand in our apartment to ease my symptoms. Taylor called in to his dispatchers and arranged to go in two hours later so that he could get me taken care of. Around 4:15 A.M. he left for Meijer to pick up a big bottle of pepto bismol, a few gallons of gatorade, and other assorted supplies, then came back to clean the bathroom before rushing off to work.
I spent the next 14 hours asleep with the occasional waking moment to sip on gatorade and pepto.
When Taylor returned that night, he found me exactly where he left me and resumed care. He is an EMT, after all, and I can personally attest to his "bedside manner," if that's something EMTs can have like their doctor/nurse counterparts.
Saturday was more of the same, but it seemed I was doing better.
Then Sunday came and disaster struck. Taylor came down with whatever I had been fighting all weekend, and he was out of commission. We had previously scheduled engagements to attend (read: appointment with our officiant and bridal shower in Urbana), not to mention a growing pile of laundry and dishes to attend to. But that all had to wait. Between the two of us, we drained an entire bottle of pepto and cleaned out our supply of chicken noodle soup. It was the sick caring for the sick--we were quite a pair.
On Monday morning I still had a slight fever so I stayed home from work so as not to infect my coworkers. Besides, I knew I could use one more day of rest before getting back to the grindstone and I was even feeling well enough to take care of Taylor for a change.
But Taylor didn't stay home. He got up at 3:40 Monday morning and went to work.
Did Taylor feel better? He says he did (and he didn't have a fever), but if you ask me, he could have used another day of rest. So why didn't he stay home?
Because he doesn't get paid sick days. In fact, he doesn't get any paid days off. Had Taylor taken a day off to take care of himself, he would have sacrificed 13 hours of pay, or one third of his weekly pay check. It was bad enough he missed two hours last week unpaid, not to mention the cost of all of those "sick supplies," that he couldn't rationalize missing an entire day for an upset tummy.
I am lucky that AmeriCorps gives me 10 paid sick days and 10 paid personal days over the course of my term. I am lucky that I have health insurance to cover prescriptions and doctor visits. But the average person in poverty doesn't have these luxuries. They most likely don't have coverage, but even if they do, they can't afford to take off work for an illness, or a family member's illness.
Health care is a big issue in American politics right now. And it should be. But Congress can't let politics get in the way of passing quality legislation on behalf of America's workers. In addition to a gap in health care coverage, we need to look at employee policies in America's businesses. Many low income workers get no sick days, no break to recoup, and no time to care for sick family members. If they miss work, they risk not being able to pay their bills or even losing their job all together. So in addition to health care coverage, we need to make sure workers can take time to actually USE that health care coverage and still be able to afford their electricity that month.
Congress had better get busy!
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