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Choosing to not have medical insurance

He covered the healthcare industry for much of his career and realizes the importance of a safety net. But after weighing the risks and benefits, he is going it alone.

September 21, 2009|J. Duncan Moore Jr. | Moore is a freelance writer in Chicago and the co-founder of the Assn. of Health Care Journalists

It never occurred to me that I would count myself among America's 47 million uninsured when I passed my 53rd birthday earlier this year. I'm the last person I would have imagined living without a safety net between me and the medical risks of early middle age.

Insurance against the unforeseeable, after all, is what makes middle-class existence possible. Yet, as the country debates the merits of reforming the rules around insurance markets, it's worth pondering what value health insurance really adds for individuals under the current system.

I have no insurance partly by accident and partly by intent. I'm not freaking out, though. Should I be? I'll tell you what I know. Then you decide.

A little more than two years ago, I quit my job. It was, on the face of it, a good job, with a high salary, professional prestige and a luxury health-insurance policy. But I was miserable -- so unhappy, in fact, that I started to worry about myself.

I had stopped sleeping through the night. After one particularly grueling 14-hour day, a blood vessel in my nose burst and I had to lie on the floor in the lobby of an office tower while security guards debated calling an ambulance. Without being aware of it, I lost 10 pounds over five months.

What was this fearsome job? Writing about health insurance for a news organization. I interviewed top executives at the nation's mega-managed-care companies. I attended investor conferences, covered earnings reports, wrote about clinical trials, explained Medicare benefits. I learned to love the delectable insurance lingo -- medical-loss ratios, adverse selection, moral hazard, the underwriting cycle -- that make normal people feel as if they're stirring concrete with their eyelashes.

But the deadline stress was killing me, and I decided not to die before my time. I signed up for the 18-month COBRA extension and began paying $447.12 a month out of my savings for health insurance. I assumed I would find a job, with new insurance coverage, soon enough. I didn't anticipate the economic crisis or the collapse of the journalism profession.

When the COBRA coverage was about to expire and I still didn't have a job, I considered the insurance problem from two perspectives: my health status and history -- and what insurance actually buys. The answer I came up with surprised me.


Healthy lifestyle

I've always been a naturally healthy person. I eat right and get plenty of sleep. All my life I've avoided unhealthy behaviors like crack cocaine and yoga. My parents are in their 80s and in great shape. There's no cancer or heart disease in the family history. My Scottish grandparents lived to be 87 and 91.

Like a lot of guys who were not especially athletic in their youth, when I hit my 40s I decided to become a stud. I taught myself to swim and started lifting weights. I sold my car 10 years ago and started taking public transit. In warm weather, I ride my bike everyplace I need to go. I've never been overweight. I'm fit, trim, well-proportioned. My body mass index hovers around 24.7. (At 25, you are borderline "overweight," but people with strong bones and lots of muscle mass like me tend to tilt toward overweight in that metric.)

If I were going to develop a chronic disease, I'd have it by now. My blood glucose tends toward the low end, so I'm not going to become diabetic. I have some lower back pain and stiffness from a herniated disk 15 years ago, but I manage it with strengthening exercises and stretches. Knee or joint surgery? I don't like to run. Cancer? I never smoked. I had a colonoscopy at 51 and saw for myself on the video monitor that I'm clean as a whistle down there. I did, however, have early signs of a precancerous condition a few years ago.

I had some tests, and doctors believe it won't turn into anything serious. We are watching the situation. (According to insurance brokers I consulted, however, that condition could be enough to exclude me from qualifying for an individual policy.)

As to heart and vascular risk, I have always had low blood pressure and pretty good, though not ideal, cholesterol. I got my last blood work-up numbers from my doctor and plugged them into the heart attack risk calculator on the website of the National Heart Lung and Blood Institute. My risk score is 5%. Five of 100 people with this level of risk will have a heart attack in the next 10 years. That sounds acceptable.

So what does a guy like me need with health insurance? I'm the best risk in town, I thought to myself. Why shouldn't I self-insure? In other words, why couldn't I accept full responsibility for my own health expenses?

That's what big companies do. They hire a health insurer to "rent" a network of doctors and hospitals; they also pay the bills for their employees and encourage healthy habits. But the actual medical risk is held by the employers themselves. Companies save a lot of money that way. Risk management is where insurance companies make their big profits.

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