Paying to Survive

When health insurance fails, crowdfunding provides relief from economic turmoil to Angelenos in medical crisis

By Casey Loving, Ona Martini, Anasazi Ochoa and Dominique Williams

Had it not been for the insurance provided by the kindness of a friend, L.A. resident Janet Housden’s financial outcome would’ve been uncertain. For now, she would rather not sweat the big stuff. Will the cancer come back? Will she have to eventually live in her car? Who knows?

She’s more worried about finding a parking spot on Hyperion Ave.

Housden has been a lifelong disruptor – whether she’s cursing at the slew of hipsters taking over her beloved Silver Lake community, where she’s lived for the past 30 years, or touring the U.S. as the only woman in several punk rock bands, including the legendary punk group Redd Kross.

“I moved here to be with my people,” she says, as she recalls an era that was undisturbed by tourists looking for the latest Instagram-worthy backdrop and gentrified buildings that sell overpriced vintage T-shirts and artisanal gelato.

Housden keeps an eye on the position of the sun with her UV-blocking umbrella in hand. (Photo by Dominique Williams)

In times of hardship, it was Housden’s community who provided the means of her survival.

“It’s like having a big hourglass, and every penny is a grain of sand going through it.”

— Janet Housden

In early 2018, Housden was diagnosed with Stage 3 breast cancer after a months-long wait for a mammogram at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center. The ensuing chemotherapy treatment, followed by a double mastectomy and radiation treatment happening all within a year, meant that she had little time to consider her financial future.

“People say ‘get a job’ and it’s really not that simple,” Housden says. “Frankly, I’ve hated almost every job I’ve had.”

Her musician friends and former bandmates rallied and planned a benefit that was 30 years in the making. A GoFundMe was created in Housden’s name, and contributors who donated at least $50 were guaranteed admission to the show of a lifetime.

For one night only, Housden and Redd Kross played a sold-out show, planned months in advance, at The Echo on Sunset Blvd. Housden played the drums, basking in the moment even while fighting off pneumonia. Fans of Redd Kross, and even bigger fans of Housden, raised more than $20,000, enough to help with her monthly expenses for an entire year.

“All kinds of old friends came out of the woodwork. It was pretty amazing,” Housden recalls with a cracked smile.

These days, it’s hard for Housden to form a band that won’t be conflicted to practice because of jury duty, or a cousin’s brother-in-law’s birthday, but living in a decades-old tight-knit community of punk-rockers-turned-nine-to-fivers is what Housden says enabled her to receive help when she needed it most.

Housden’s music community affirmed the valuable impact of human connection while providing financial relief through crowdfunding Seeking necessary funding (such as medical expenses) by requesting contributions from a group of people, especially an online community, the increasingly popular practice of raising money through contributions from a large number of people. Additionally, younger generations are embracing crowdfunding, even if it’s only a few dollars, despite the ever-climbing cost of living. Is it pure altruism? Or a desire to step in when members of their community are let down by the government systems that should be supporting them?

Crowdfunding saves lives. As the medical debt burden in L.A. increases to $2.9 billion in 2022, the cost of living continues to go up. To combat this inequity, L.A. residents are turning to platforms like GoFundMe, Indiegogo and Kickstarter for fiscal support during crises. Some campaigns gather hundreds of thousands of dollars in donations, covering both urgent and long-term health expenses. As of July 2024, some 1,000 Los Angeles residents were actively fundraising for medical expenses on GoFundMe alone, one of them being Carolyn Peters.

It was the week of her 42nd birthday, and Peters' world was falling apart. She titled a GoFundMe campaign “Birthday Medical Bill Blowout!”, saying she had no choice but to turn to her community for support.

“It's kind of like throwing a birthday party and wondering if people are going to show up,” she says.

But they did.

A former dance colleague shared Peters’ GoFundMe page on her social media. Within 24 hours, the dance community donated enough to reach her fundraising goal and then some. After paying the bill for her treatment at UCLA, Peters says she was relieved to have extra money to put away for future medical expenses.

“I didn't know if I was about to be cut down and find out I'm truly alone, or if people were going to come through and help me,” Peters says.

Peters describes herself as “medically complicated.” She was first diagnosed with LupusAutoimmune disease that occurs when the immune system attacks its own tissues, causing inflammation, and in some cases permanent tissue damage – affecting the skin, joints, heart, lung, kidneys, circulating blood cells, and brain (National Institute of Arthritis and Musculoskeletal and Skin Diseases) in 2016, followed by myasthenia gravis"A chronic autoimmune disorder in which antibodies destroy the communication between nerves and muscle, resulting in weakness of the skeletal muscles" (Johns Hopkins Medicine) and arthritisRheumatic disease that causes pain, swelling, and limited movement and affects joints and connective tissues around the body (Johns Hopkins Medicine). She has suffered multiple strokes and a seizure, leaving her with brain damage and partial blindness in her right eye.

She says her ongoing battle with these diseases has left her disabled and incapable of working or pursuing her passions, like dance. The trauma of navigating the healthcare system while suffering physically has resulted in Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

“My legs will start shaking right away,” Peters says, “if there's any experience in life, even outside of a medical setting, where I have to sit there and explain to another person why I deserve care or why I deserve something.”

Without work, her only income has been her social security checks, which currently come to around $2,300 per month.

That’s $2,300 to pay for rent, food, a car, her three pet birds and her two dogs, Ava and Nova.

Peters understood she would receive full financial aid coverage for her care at UCLA Health. It wasn’t until she relocated to L.A. that she was informed that her bill would be hundreds of dollars more than her monthly social security income. Like many other financially insecure L.A. residents battling illness, she had to make a devastating choice: stop her life-sustaining treatment or find the funds to continue by any means necessary.

Similarly, Housden didn’t know if her insurance would cover costs until over a year into her treatment.

“It's not normal. It's not civilized,” Housden says of the state of healthcare in the U.S. “There’s no other country in the world where anybody would have to do that.”

Creatives like Housden and Peters were once deeply immersed in their music and dance communities, respectively — the same communities that stepped in to help during their medical crises. This theme is likely not uncommon in the scene of artists and freelancers. Americans for the Arts concluded that artists are more widely uninsured than the national average.

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But it’s not only artists who are feeling the impact. According to the 2022 Census, nearly 800,000 L.A. residents do not have health insurance – the majority being people of color. Some view the process as too confusing or fall outside of requirements.

Under the Affordable Care Act, California residents are offered a variety of healthcare coverage options, yet its shortcomings are apparent in the rising levels of debt. Medi-Cal, California’s Medicaid program, insures around 4.7 million people living in L.A. County. Those who do not qualify can find insurance through Covered California, a marketplace for plans that vary depending on income.

Housden considers herself lucky, as she was mostly covered because of a friend who employed her as an independent contractor, providing access to health insurance. Ironically, her status as a longtime independent contractor, combined with a lack of “work credits,” is what prevents her from currently receiving disability aid from the Social Security Administration.

Today, Housden lives solely off of food stamps and savings from the sale of her late mother’s home.

“It’s like having a big hourglass, and every penny is a grain of sand going through it,” Housden says of the current state of her finances.

"Not only did they help relieve this financial stress, financial stress going away really helps me medically."

— Carolyn Peters

For Peters, surviving disease is an inherent part of life - a part she wishes was made easier by our healthcare system. Instead, she says she spends an inordinate amount of time navigating healthcare bureaucracies and figuring out how to survive.

“Apparently, I just can't make magic all the time like I did when I was younger before I was disabled,” she said.

Peters sits on her bed with her two dogs, Ava and Nova, and one of her pet birds in the cage beside her. (Photo by Dominique Williams)

Peters sold nearly all of her valuable belongings to meet expenses, except for her collection of treasured dance shoes. Because of the crippling pain caused by arthritis in her feet, she says she hasn’t been able to wear her shoes, let alone dance.

“It's something that I'm not willing to try and sell yet,” she says. “I'm not willing to give up that part of me, even if I could never wear them again.”

In contrast, Housden says she learned to play the cards she was dealt and was excited to plan her post-chemo hair-loss Halloween costume, torn between Uncle Fester from “The Addams Family” and Colonel Kurtz from “Apocalypse Now.” She found special moments with friends who treated her to birria tacos in Mariachi Plaza when she wasn’t nauseous from her usual cocktail of medications.

These days, Housden’s favorite accessory is a UV-blocking umbrella to protect her freckled skin that has become increasingly sensitive from radiation treatment. Her mastectomy scars are now adorned by multiple tattoos of Old English petroglyphs and a folk-style owl, a Pagan symbol of courage and strength in the face of adversity.

“It was hilariously freeing,” she says of her postoperative thoughts of never needing a bra again.

While her battle against cancer may be over for the time being, Housden still deals with the ever-increasing cost of living in a neighborhood that is brewing with transformation, at the expense of the loss of community.

“We had diners, like you could go in and get coffee and sit there for four hours with your friends,” Housden says. “But as soon as the people with the money figured out that they could come here and it was safe, then they just took it away, basically.”

Organizations like Insure the Uninsured Project and Health Access California look to improve the flaws in California’s Healthcare system by advocating for equitable, accessible coverage for all Californians.

Chris Noble, the Organizing Director of Health Access California, says he hopes to resolve the medical debt crisis.

“Los Angeles has the opportunity to continue to be a leader in medical debt relief efforts,” Noble said. “We hope we can be a model to be emulated in other counties, states and even nationwide.”

The debt crisis is more than just a financial issue. Studies consistently show that high levels of stress negatively impact one’s physical health and well-being, with money trouble being a leading stressor, according to the Cleveland Clinic. The disparity creates an aggressive cycle of poor health and financial hardship. In a survey conducted by the non-profit UndueMedicalDebt.org, over one-third of survey respondents said that their medical debt impacted their mental ability to fight their illness.

And when Angelenos in medical crises aren’t in a position to advocate for themselves, caregiving responsibilities often fall to family members or friends to create campaigns. GoFundMe reported that, in 2022, one in three fundraisers was created by someone other than the beneficiary.

An Interview with
Janet Housden

Robin Sukhadia’s expertise as an L.A.-based independent nonprofit fundraising and strategy consultant was put to the test when his younger sister, Rina, was paralyzed in a car accident in June 2019.

The next two months were essential to Rina’s long-term recovery. As fast as her surgeries and treatments came, the bills came faster. In just two months, Rina’s stay in a high-trauma unit cost over $50,000.

“It's just sad that you think your medical insurance, if you have it, is going to cover everything,” Sukhadia says. “As soon as a crisis like this hit, you start to realize, wow, we are gonna need cash.”

Sukhadia says he knew that time was not on their side, and the first 30 days after creating a GoFundMe campaign were crucial. He utilized his network and set an initial goal of $50,000.

“Even boxing matches have time limits and they stop, and sometimes you have to admit defeat."

— Robin Sukhadia

As the primary campaign manager, Sukhadia routinely informed contributors of Rina’s current health status through a frequently updated photo journal managed by Sukhadia and his family. To date, Rina’s GoFundMe campaign has raised over $115,000 worth of contributions.

“A lot of people have told me that they really appreciate giving money to her rather than a nonprofit, because they know the money is going to help her directly with something,” Sukhadia says.

Crowdfunding trends didn’t always look this way. The developers of platforms like GoFundMe founded them with creative entrepreneurship in mind. However, as medical debt in L.A. has increased over the years, so has the number of medical crowdfunding campaigns. GoFundMe CEO Tim Cadogan acknowledges that this change is reflective of a larger systemic issue.

“GoFundMe was never made to be a source of support for basic needs,” GoFundMe said in a statement on X during the COVID-19 pandemic. “It can never be a replacement for robust federal relief.”

Despite the substantial success of Sukhadia’s campaign, he says the road remains long and hard for his sister’s recovery.

“Even boxing matches have time limits and they stop,” Sukhadia says. “And sometimes you have to admit defeat.”

Housden holds up her favorite necklace charms, two of which include a pentagram and a mini harmonica. (Photo by Dominique Williams)

Housden poses near her home in Silver Lake. (Photo by Dominique Williams)

Peters enjoys some shade under a tree in her apartment courtyard. (Photo by Dominique Williams)

Peters holds Ava surrounded by her array of plushies. (Photo by Dominique Williams)

For individuals like Peters, Housden and Sukhadia, crowdfunding offers financial relief that healthcare reform has failed to provide.

Despite efforts from activists like Noble and organizations like Health Access California, the state of big healthcare in the United States remains dire. Stories like Peters’, Housden’s and Sukhadia’s are stark examples of the network of support that is required to financially and emotionally sustain a quality of life.

“Not only did they help relieve this financial stress, financial stress going away really helps me medically,” Peters says.

While Peters’ long-term financial stress is not over, resolving this emergency situation improved her quality of life significantly. She is sleeping better, feeling healthier and her confidence has improved.

“Comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable,” Housden adds with a shrug, embodying the core values of the punk lifestyle, like mutual aid and anti-corporatism, that define both her identity and the fighting spirit to survive in Los Angeles.

An Extended Interview with Carolyn Peters

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