Daisy the Dog and The Issue That Earned a Vote.

A few days ago, I was out knocking on doors when a voter stopped me before I could even get through my introduction.

“I already voted for you. I voted for you because of your position on healthcare.”

The man had an adorable puppy named Daisy that my son and I got to play with while we talked. He has worked in healthcare for 22 years, and he spoke with more desperation than hope about the state of our healthcare system. He is worried about whole health systems closing, and people not being able to afford basic care.

For months, the political elite have debated what issue will decide this election. Is it the economy? Immigration? Democracy?

But I’ve had so many conversations just like this one, so I know that for many families, those aren’t separate conversations. They all come back to one simple question: Can I afford to take care of the people I love?

Healthcare has always been personal to me. Stans of this Stack will remember that my mom was chronically ill while I was growing up, and I spent countless hours with her in hospital rooms and doctors’ offices. We tried to navigate a healthcare system that was confusing, expensive, and exhausting, even with people who loved her advocating every step of the way.

Since she passed away in 2017, things have only become more difficult. Costs continue to rise, families are paying more out of pocket, and far too many people are delaying care because they simply can’t afford it.

As a prosecutor, I saw another side of our healthcare crisis. For more than a decade, I worked with survivors of sexual assault, child abuse, and human trafficking on some of the worst days of their lives. Again and again, I saw how untreated mental illness, addiction, trauma, and the lack of affordable healthcare made people more vulnerable and made it harder for families to recover. Public safety doesn’t begin when a crime is committed. It begins when people have access to the healthcare, mental healthcare, and support they need before a crisis ever occurs.

Now, as a working mom raising three children, I see it through yet another lens. Like so many parents, I think about whether families can afford prescriptions, whether a child can get the healthcare they need - especially in the midst of the worst mental healthcare crisis among youth in a century, or whether someone will put off seeing a doctor because they can’t miss a day’s pay. These aren’t abstract policy debates. They are decisions people in our community are making every single day.

Throughout the Trump presidency, we have seen support systems for working families dismantled. America’s social safety net, on which three in ten Americans—and nearly half of all children—rely, has been dramatically reduced.

In their “Big Beautiful Bill,” Republicans cut Medicaid by nearly $800 billion over 10 years, and added ineffective work requirements that will kick as many as 13 million people off their health insurance.

The real-world consequences of cuts to Medicaid aren’t an abstract line item in a federal budget. Medicaid provides healthcare for children, seniors in long-term care, people with disabilities, and working families who are doing everything right but still need a little help making ends meet.

Medicaid also props up entire healthcare systems—especially in rural America. Ironically, many of the beneficiaries of Medicaid are rural Republican voters themselves. Not only have rural hospitals been closing over the last two decades, but over 300 rural hospitals face “immediate risk” of closure in the coming years.

The reality is that when these health systems close, they impact everyone—not just Medicaid beneficiaries. Everyone has to travel farther for care: the new mom having her first baby, the senior having a heart attack, the child with a broken arm.

That’s why I kept thinking about the man I met yesterday. He was worried about the healthcare system he has worked in for more than two decades. He was worried about his community.

And that’s the thing about healthcare. It’s deeply personal for all of us, but the people in D.C. act like it is abstract. It shouldn’t be.

What struck me most about our conversation wasn’t simply that healthcare was the reason he voted for me. It was that he wanted someone who understood what it feels like to sit in a waiting room with someone you love, to worry about a medical bill, and who will fight for every single American to have access to quality, affordable healthcare.

I know we won’t get there overnight, but if we are not fighting every day to get there, then we’re not solving the problems families sent us to Washington to fix.

Yesterday reminded me that people aren’t asking for miracles. They’re asking for leaders who understand their lives, who listen, and who are willing to fight for them. Healthcare has always been personal to me. I’m grateful that it is personal for so many others in our district, too.