She voted for Trump every time. Then came cancer and the bills
McALLEN, Texas (AP) — The Ford Expedition rumbled to a stop and Cindy Banda’s bedazzled flip-flops landed on the asphalt of the Houston cancer center’s vast parking lot. She threaded through the rows of cars, a tally of patients who gather here to sit with chemotherapy needles or lie on radiation machines.
The elevator dinged open. A year ago in this building, surgeons removed Banda’s right breast, and she still didn't know whether treatment had expunged the cancer from her body. Doctors had told her it would be tough to beat.
“I’m more of a positive person myself,” Banda said. But the bills are harder to dismiss, and the single mother with six children in her care repeated something like a mantra. “Keep the house. Keep the cars. And just keep the kids stable.”
That’s true for many Americans, as rising healthcare costs leave more families with a sinking feeling after seeing the bill for surgery or medication. Heading into the Nov. 3 midterm elections, about half of registered voters said healthcare costs are a major problem for them and their families, up from a little more than one-third four years ago, according to a Fox News poll from September.
With party control of Congress at stake, registered voters are nearly twice as likely to say they trust Democrats over Republicans to handle healthcare, according to an Associated Press-NORC Center for Public Affairs Research poll from the same month. Those frustrations, combined with broader concerns over rising prices, have sapped support for President Donald Trump and his Republican Party.
She backed Trump in each of his three campaigns, motivated by her opposition to abortion. But when cancer came, the ensuing scramble to make ends meet was painful enough to rearrange her priorities, and she started to think about voting Democratic for the first time.
The 46-year-old was ushered into a sterile room for her appointment, her phone lit up with a text. “Please contact TD Auto Finance.”
“This one’s $1,300,” she said of the car payment bill. “I have to go back to work.”
She had been on sick leave from her job selling internet service for one year, and she needed the income to support her three kids and three more she had taken in after her sister's death.
The doctor said her reconstruction surgery could be scheduled early next year. “I was hoping for maybe December,” Banda said, “only because I've met my deductibles.” Come January, she would have to pay down the $7,500 again. Earlier may be possible, the doctor replied, if the skin around her surgical scar loosens.
Two weeks later, Banda was back at work, making door-to-door rounds to sell Spectrum's Wi-Fi in McAllen. She hadn't had a sale and commission since the biopsy and diagnosis.
Her first impulse is to maintain normalcy, stability, for the children. But that requires roughly $7,000 a month for utilities, mortgage, car payments and groceries, along with the two water leaks. Then, even with insurance through her job, the surgeries, chemo and radiation added up to over $25,000 that she's been paying off, making Banda one of tens of millions of other people in the United States in medical debt.
Banda tries not to dwell on death and debt.
“It’ll consume you,” she says.
The generosity of others has helped keep her just beyond the reach of each month’s tide of bills. But months of insecurity takes its own, sleepless toll.
Two years later her last vote for Trump and while fighting an expensive disease, she had found no respite from high prices.
So when James Talarico, a Presbyterian seminary student running for U.S. Senate as a Democrat, visited one of Banda’s fundraisers — speaking about his diabetes and his work in the Texas Statehouse to lower the price of insulin — it moved her. “Imagine if he can do that for the cancer,” she said.
Talarico and his Republican opponent, state Attorney General Ken Paxton, have different approaches to healthcare. Talarico wants all Americans to be able to join Medicare; Paxton proposed a $25,000 tax deduction for out-of-pocket medical expenses.
Talarico also supports a law guaranteeing abortion access nationwide, which Banda has voted against for years. But after she slid into debt to stay alive, after her grocery bills mounted and the high school had to comp the kids' soccer gear she couldn't afford, Banda’s anti-abortion concerns have been superseded by costs.
“Because it’s what I’m living,” she said. “I'm living it."
Banda cast an early ballot for Talarico. “Never voted Democrat before today!!” she wrote in a text with blue heart emoji.
But she was still in need of her first sale. Banda marched into the barbershop to talk up the Wi-Fi with the owner, who agreed to talk the next day about a package deal with an added phone line.
Banda had just started a new cancer-targeting medication that cost $16,000 a month, reduced to $500 by insurance. By the afternoon, she was nauseous and fatigued, unable to eat. The malaise would keep her home the next day, and she tried calling the barbershop to reschedule the meeting. No one answered, though she felt confident the sale wasn't lost.
Banda nonetheless pushed through the discomfort one evening to join her family as they replaced the flowers at her sister's tomb.
She drove past the headstones and oak trees in the evening’s slanting light, and the family gathered around Melissa Banda's tomb in an open-air mausoleum. There was no speech. Their eulogy was her father, Fidel Banda, methodically clipping and arranging the flowers for his daughter.
Banda walked along the wall of tombs. She will find out on Election Day whether the cancer is in remission or whether it's begun pillaging her organs.
“This one’s for me,” she said, pointing to a blank tomb next to her sister's.
“Mom!” said her daughter with the huffiness of an 9-year-old. “Why would you say that?”
Banda smiled and added, “in a hundred years."
© Copyright The Associated Press. All rights reserved. The information contained in this news report may not be published, broadcast or otherwise distributed without the prior written authority of The Associated Press.
