This is a long email, but it’s a deeply personal one. I hope you’ll take a moment to give it a read.
Last week, I voted no on Trump’s big, ugly budget bill. It was one of the most heartless pieces of legislation that Congress had considered in decades.
This cruel budget greenlights the largest cut to Medicaid in American history. As a result, seventeen million Americans are set to lose access to affordable care, and it’ll be harder for everyone to receive adequate care. Republicans passed it anyway.
When I think about what these cuts mean, I think about Andy.
Andy was my husband. Just one year into our relationship, he was diagnosed with cancer. Overnight, we went from planning our future together to fighting for his life. I became his primary caregiver. During his battle with terminal cancer, I held his hand through appointments, treatments, and, ultimately, when he passed away.
But we were lucky. Andy had access to health care. It gave us precious time together. But I also saw firsthand how fragile access can be — and how devastating it is when people don’t have it.
Not everyone is as lucky as we were. Too many families are forced to make impossible choices — between seeing a doctor or keeping the lights on, between paying for a life-saving prescription, or putting food on the table for their children.
Health care is a human right. In the wealthiest country on earth, no one should have to make choices like these.
But instead of making health care more affordable and accessible, Donald Trump and Republicans in Congress just gutted Medicaid — which will leave millions more Americans uninsured, all to finance tax breaks for billionaires.
That’s why I voted no. It’s why I’m fighting tooth and nail to ensure Republicans feel the consequences. And it’s why I’m asking for your help.
When I think about the road ahead, I think of Andy. I think about every family that’s fighting to hold on to hope. I think about what it means to lead with conviction. And that’s what’s fueling my fight.
Thank you for reading,
Sarah McBride