1 week Ago
I have been a practicing physician assistant since 2003. As a cardiology physician assistant, I have spent the majority of my career treating patients with heart conditions. Since the start of the COVID-19 pandemic, much of my work has shifted to telemedicine, allowing me to care for patients who might otherwise struggle to access medical care.
Many of my patients are elderly or disabled, and stress, fear, and anxiety can take a serious toll on their health. I have seen patients suffer heart attacks triggered by political stress. Right now, the uncertainty surrounding Medicare, Medicaid and Social Security is higher than ever, and my patients are feeling it.
To be a good provider requires not only skill and intelligence but also a deep sense of empathy. In the medical field, we are trained to mask our emotions — to remain stoic and professional no matter what. But even the most seasoned providers break sometimes.
Recently, I did. I had logged into my first telehealth appointment of the day and pressed “connect.” As we went through my usual questions, my patient confided in me that she is terrified.
She fears that if she loses her Social Security, she will become homeless. She started to cry. She relies on telehealth because she is disabled and in a wheelchair, making it difficult for her to attend in-person visits.
I knew that if Congress did not act soon, telehealth coverage for Medicare patients could be gone after March 31 — but I couldn’t bring myself to tell her. I assured my patient that no matter what happens, I would not abandon her. But as I spoke, my voice cracked and I went silent.
I apologized and told her, “I’m so sorry, but I’m going to cry now too.” Medical professionals are expected to keep their emotions in check, but how can we not feel deeply when our patients are suffering? Fortunately Congress recently passed a continuing resolution to fund the government until Sept. 30, which includes an extension of telehealth services under Medicare.
It is unclear to me why telehealth access is not made permanent. The Hippocratic Oath urges caregivers to avoid doing harm to their patients. But how do we uphold that oath when our health care system is failing our most vulnerable? My patient — elderly, disabled and struggling — now feels she has no choice but to make a sign and sit at a busy intersection, in her wheelchair, in protest.
How badly have we failed our seniors? Elon Musk recently said, “The fundamental weakness of Western civilization is empathy.” When those in positions of power hold such beliefs, is it any wonder we have reached this point? We cannot continue to reduce human beings to Social Security numbers in a database. Empathy is not a weakness — it is our greatest strength.
Medicare provides health care coverage to 65 million seniors and people with disabilities. Medicaid ensures access to care for more than 85 million low-income Americans, including children, pregnant women and people with disabilities. Social Security, meanwhile, is the primary source of income for many retirees, as well as those who are disabled and unable to work.
Medicaid ensures health care for over 40 million children in the United States. For many low-income families, Medicaid is the only way they can afford doctor visits, prescriptions and essential treatments. If funding is reduced, children could lose access to preventive care including vaccinations, routine checkups and early screenings for developmental and chronic conditions.
Additionally, cuts to Medicaid would disproportionately affect children in rural areas where pediatric specialists are scarce, further limiting access to necessary care. A reduction in Medicaid funding would not only harm individual children but also place a greater strain on the entire health care system. To even consider cutting these benefits is cruel beyond my comprehension.
Health care is not a luxury — it is a fundamental human right. It is time for lawmakers to recognize that these programs are not negotiable. It is time to protect and expand them, not weaken them.
To the policymakers in Washington: Listen to the people who rely on these programs. Look into the eyes of those who will suffer without them. Health care is more than just a service.
It is a lifeline. And right now, too many people are being left behind. We must do better.
This is a contributed opinion column. Stefanie Rafes is a physician assistant who lives in Lower Macungie Township. Rafes ran as a Democrat in 2024 for a seat representing the 187th District in the state House.
The views expressed in this piece are those of its individual author, and should not be interpreted as reflecting the views of this publication. Do you have a perspective to share? Learn more about how we handle guest opinion submissions at themorningcall.com/opinions.
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