Tomorrow the Window Closes
I keep opening the spreadsheet and closing it again.
$1,257 a month for health insurance starting January 1st. That’s for the lowest tier plan. I’m currently paying $300 a month for better coverage. I know the math. I’ve known it for weeks. There’s no version where this works. But I keep opening it anyway, like maybe this time the numbers will be different.
Tomorrow at midnight, the enrollment window closes. After that, I can’t sign up for healthcare for 2026. Period. The door locks.
I’m 59 years old. I’ve had continuous health insurance for nearly 60 years. And on January 1st, that ends because I cannot pay $1,257 a month and keep my mortgage and lights on and food in the refrigerator.
In the richest country in the world, we’re about to let millions of people—people who did everything right, who worked their whole lives, who paid their premiums and followed the rules—we’re about to let them go without healthcare because Congress couldn’t be bothered to act before the deadline.
I’m not ashamed that I can’t afford this. I’m furious that our government has failed so completely that this is where we are.
And I know something else. Most of the people closest to me probably won’t read this. It’s too painful. They feel helpless to make a difference. I understand that. But it doesn’t make the loneliness any less real.
Millions of us are feeling this right now. This sense of being alone in a crisis while the people around us turn away because they don’t know what to do with our pain.
If that’s you—if you’re sitting at your kitchen table tonight feeling invisible—I need you to hear this: You are not alone. You are not at fault. And you deserve so much better from our leaders than what they’re giving us.
The news keeps talking about January 1st, when the subsidies expire and premiums double. But that’s not when this happens. This happens tomorrow. Tomorrow is when the window closes and millions of us get locked out for the entire year, whether Congress ever fixes this or not.
Congress had months. They knew the subsidies expired December 31st. They knew the enrollment deadline was December 15th. They knew exactly what would happen.
Congress wasn’t too busy to act. They were too cowardly to represent the vast majority of their constituents.
In July, they gave a trillion dollars in tax cuts to the wealthiest Americans. To pay for it, they cut Medicaid and food assistance. Rural hospitals are closing. Nearly 11 million people are losing coverage.
And then they let this enrollment deadline pass. Another 5 million of us losing healthcare—not because they couldn’t act, but because they didn’t.
That’s 16 million people. And I’m one of them. Someone you know will be one of them.
On December 11th—four days before the window closes—both healthcare proposals failed. On December 13th—two days before the deadline—the House released a plan that doesn’t extend the subsidies at all.
Meanwhile, here’s what got attention from the administration:
While millions of us were doing impossible math at kitchen tables—they were tearing down the people’s house to build a gaudy ballroom.
While we were calculating which medications to skip—they were launching campaigns about airplane dress codes.
While we were watching our coverage disappear—they were continuing failed indictments of people on an enemies list.
While we were begging for healthcare—they were chasing immigrants in parking lots.
While we were trying to figure out how to survive—they were telling Americans their kids only need two pencils and fewer toys.
While we were drowning—they were denying that affordability is even a real crisis for average Americans.
This isn’t millions of Americans failing. Look who’s doing the math tonight at kitchen tables across the country. People with decades of work experience. People who built careers and saved money. People who’ve had healthcare for 50, 60 years. People who did everything they were supposed to do.
This is the system failing at basic human decency.
Tomorrow I’ll log into HealthCare.gov one last time. I’ll look at the plans I can’t afford. I’ll watch the clock run out at midnight.
On January 1st, I’ll be uninsured for the first time in nearly 60 years. I’ll pay for my medications out of pocket. I’ll skip appointments. I’ll hope I stay healthy. And if something happens, I’ll deal with bankruptcy if it comes.
This is what their failure looks like in real life.
Every representative who voted against extending these subsidies needs to answer for this. At town halls, at the grocery store, everywhere. Ask them: “Why did you prioritize a helping the wealthy become more wealthy over our healthcare?” Make them say the words.
Document your story. Vote in every election. Support the organizations doing actual work. Support candidates who will represent you how ever you can - knock on doors, make phone calls, distribute yard signs, organize transportation to polling places.
The window closes tomorrow. The reckoning is coming.
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