Personal Narrative Essay: We Should Have Access To Free Healthcare

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I vividly remember being on the side of the road in our 1982 baby blue Chevy Astrovan, tears streaking my face, begging my mom to take my 18-year-old scrawny self back home. She was supposed to be driving me to the Coast Guard recruiter’s office to sign the dreaded paperwork enlisting my services, when my mini meltdown had prompted her to pull over. I was screaming at her to take me home, and the weight of what I thought was a mistake was heavy on my chest. It was hard to breath, and I couldn’t tell if it was from my emotions, or if it was the thick and sticky Jacksonville, Florida air. I remember the sun reflecting off my tears but not caring, as all I could think about was how with one signature, my life would be over. 14 years later, …show more content…

As healthcare in America gets more expensive and is actually starting to cover less, I recognize what a blessing it was to have access to free healthcare for so many years. I watched as my friends went into debt for procedures that I got for free. For example, I had two very agonizing root canals done when I was 21. What would cost my friends thousands of dollars, and most likely would have forced them to take out more credit cards, cost me nothing but time. A friend of mine was forced to save up the procedure money, all the while the dull, throbbing tooth never leaving his mind. Mealtime had lost its thrill and luster, since all he could think about was the about temperature of the food, and where in his aching mouth he would chew. The excruciatingly raw and exposed nerve was something I knew I could not, and thankfully did not have wait to take care of. Not having to worry about the effects that this type of debt would have on my life, had allowed me to concentrate on more pertinent issues, and thus eased the leap from young adolescence to …show more content…

As the younger generation I grew up with began to mature, their priorities were forced to change drastically. Mortgages and rent had now plagued the once uncomplicated lives of my friends. Without having to worry about the heavy burden of making rent, I was able to better prepare for my future. I was taught how to save for major purchases, while my friends jumped at opportunities to take out loans. By the age of 26, I had enough money to purchase my dream truck, which I still own to this day. I will never forget the brilliant sparkle of the black paint, the masculine perfume of the new leather, and the pride I felt when the salesman handed me the shiny black keys. My vivacity for life at this point was unrivalled, as was this type of benefit from a

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