Martha, my Destiny or the Salt of the Dead Sea

Chapter 2


So, setting aside Forbes magazine, Robert took a folder with a new client’s case. Attaching a blank sheet of paper to it, he wrote the first and last name of the client: James Greenwood, seventy years old.

When he started a new case, Robert, for fun’s sake, drew a little miniature stick figure in the top corner of the sheet, the likes of which children usually draw: a ball for a head, a cucumber for a body, and sticks for arms and legs.

Same as always, the paper portrayed an amusing freakazoid. He looked at the photo of James Greenwood on a copy of the driver’s license and, to bring the picture closer to the original, added a goatee to the little man. Winking at James—meaning, “now, man, we will learn what’s behind your soul”—he drew close the reports on all of Mr. Greenwood’s financial transactions from the last six months. Robert’s face grew serious.

Before we continue this story, we need to briefly clarify what Robert’s job consisted of. His agency helped people get Medicaid insurance. It is well-known that, in comparison with much other medical insurance, Medicaid is the best, especially for those who are elderly, chronically ill, and in need of home care. There is no surprise these folks want to have Medicaid.

However, to be entitled to Medicaid, a person must be at the poverty line. Is there any way to get it if you are not poor?

It turns out, one such way exists! You had to become allegedly poor, almost broke. Some people who own whole fortunes resort to all sorts of tricks: transfer savings to different funds, put their real estate under the relatives’ names, sell stock to fake individuals, etc. In short, they formally forego all their wealth and assets to obtain the longed-for Medicaid.