Yvonne Foong: Fighting NF

Three of us went supper after cell group meeting last night. Yee Ling just had a cyst removed from her throat, and paid fifty dollars while her insurance took care of the rest. Lily then asked whether my insurance require me to pay that RM50 or 10% of the treatment cost, as some companies do in Malaysia.

Her question took me by surprise. But I answered anyway. “Erh, I am uninsured”.

I suppose most people still don’t understand why I have to keep raising funds. Even Lily who has known me for awhile did not guess.

We cannot even afford to pay for treatments in local public and private hospitals. So if I were to survive and lead a full life as a Malaysian, I would have to keep raising funds publicly. As you already know, brain and spine surgeries aren’t cheap, and cheap ones can be fatal.

I am not shy to admit that I don’t have insurance, because many Malaysians, perhaps majority of Malaysians, are uninsured and not getting their health taken cared of. But they are silent. We only see them when we visit public hospitals like General Hospital Kuala Lumpur where my first and second surgeries were performed.

These people are silent because we struggle so hard to keep our dignities and our lives, there is little energy left to cry.

I am talking about the poor and the deprived. People with congenital disorders and birth defects, people with genetic disorders, people who do not qualify insurance coverage or simply cannot afford it.

But I am immensely blessed despite being uninsured. Through the grace of many people both in Malaysia and in America, I have been given access to better healthcare abroad although we needed to raise the funds ourselves. These experiences have provided me a clearer perspective towards the Malaysian healthcare system. No, industry would be a better word.

It aches me to read “Malaysian Health Tourism” on flyers and websites. I have been told of hospitals in Malaysia that insist on cash payments, not insurance. I have heard of people who were denied emergency medical attention because they could not afford the cash deposit of five thousand ringgit. Those who can, whether by cash or by insurance are treated according to how much they can afford, and what kind of wards they would pay for. Healthcare in Malaysia is for the rich and famous. The words, “Health Tourism” is meaningless to ordinary Malaysians.

Something my friend John Ling said the other day really struck me. The people who go out of their way to support my fundraising campaigns are dissatisfied with this country and want to see a better Malaysia. Those who think Malaysia is alright the way it is, are complacent and won’t see the need to help me out.

Eventually, I hope to be under the wings of a government willing to invest in their public health. Because I want to be free to pursue my education and social commitments. But right now, I am struggling just to survive.