My brother Trey should be 25 today. But I buried him about 2 weeks after he turned 21. The story of Trey’s death is the story of America waving the white flag in surrender to poverty. It’s the story of a problem whose solution is a fruit hanging so low on the tree, it's almost touching the ground. Most of all, it's the story of a little brother dying because his big brother had to make an impossible choice under duress. 

 

 

Trey, my sister CarLee and I grew up in a decrepit trailer. Holes in every wall, constellations of them. Our bathroom had holes in the floor big enough to fit your leg, with a 3 foot drop to the ground. Mom and dad's bathroom was permanently filthy with black dust and random rocks from the coal mine.

 

 

Trey was 9 years younger than me. I loved him so much; as a brother, but a lot of the time almost as a parent. My bed was a busted, stabby spring mattress. I shared it with Trey until I moved out at 18, and we were apart for the next 12 years. Then in 2020, I got sick of never seeing him. So I got him to move up to Chicago to live with me.

A few weeks later, my world shattered.

At noon on Monday, Sept. 28, Blood burst through a vessel inside Trey’s skull, turned his heart into a runaway pressure pump that crushed his brain. We’d spent that morning together playing Rock Band, but he got a headache and decided to lay down. I hopped into the shower.

As soon as I stepped out, I heard him, desperate. “Marcus, I need a doctor.” Trey stumbled to the bathroom floor, pleading for medical help.

But I knew an ambulance bill would be a financial death sentence for my family. I didn’t want to be rash. So instead of 911, I called my mom. I reverted to Marcus the 11-year-old, consumed with worry about his family’s finances.

Mom assured me this warranted an ambulance, so I hung up and called 911, and for the next 12 minutes I cared for Trey the best I could. Tried to project calm, keep him talking, but he just faded away.

“Trey, can you still hear me?”

 Silence.

“Trey, it's gonna be ok — does it still hurt?” 

Nothing. Then movement in the corner of my eye.

“Yes,” in American Sign Language. The last thing he ever said.

Yes Marcus, I can still hear you, and yes it still hurts.

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My hesitation to call 911 will always haunt me. Those extra minutes might have saved him.

I have lived my whole life in the wealthiest nation in history.

But 30 years of conditioning told me that before saving my little brother’s life, I had to make sure we could pay the bill first.

A Federally funded study revealed that the median ambulance charge in the US is more than $2,200 (Source: Government Accountability Office).

In Chicago, an ambulance ride costs $3,000. Minimum.  The city says it charges patients in order to keep taxes lower. Says “much of the cost” is shifted to the patient’s insurance. A month after Trey died, I opened a bill from the city for more than $3,300.

A full quarter of U.S. citizens, most of whom have insurance, skip needed care because it costs too much. So do 61% of those without insurance. Half of all Americans can’t afford an unplanned expense of $500. On average, ambulance rides cost $450 out of pocket, with insurance, fully in-network. The punch-line: Huge chunks of the country are “ambulance deserts” where the only option is out-of-network. 51% of ambulance rides for insured patients include a surprise out-of-network bill.

But wait, didn’t the No Surprises Act ban surprise medical billing?

Yes — for everything but emergency care.

After the No Surprises Act passed, Congress put together a commission to study the ambulance billing problem. Last year, they put forward a plan to cap patient ambulance charges at $100 MAXIMUM. That committee, by the way? Ambulance providers, consumer rights advocates, and insurance executives — every political interest group with a stake in it. YouGov surveys show 80% of Democrats and 75% of Republicans support the plan. 

America wants this, and every day it’s not done, we are forcing Americans to make an impossible choice: Fall into near-certain financial ruin, or risk a fatal tragedy.

We implore Congress to pass a bill incorporating the recommendations of the 'Advisory Committee on Ground Ambulance and Patient Billing' to make ambulance services affordable for poor and middle-class families. Nobody should ever need to choose between calling for critically needed medical help and incurring financial disaster.

Please, sign this petition and let's urge Congress to take action. Every signature counts!