Sharon Watson: “Because of Medicaid, My Son Can Dream of a Future”

Sharon Watson and her husband are raising three children in a small Michigan community. Their oldest is 15, their middle child 13, and their youngest—a bright, energetic girl—is 10. Her husband, a disabled Navy veteran, receives VA disability compensation as his primary income. Sharon works full-time as a special education aide at her daughter’s elementary school—a job she loves, though it comes with modest pay and long hours.

Their life, like many families’, is a mix of daily joys and challenges. But a few years ago, it changed in an instant.

One afternoon, Sharon’s middle son, then nearly four years old, had a seizure. It was sudden and severe. Paramedics rushed to their home and administered rescue medicine in the ambulance. It didn’t work. As they sped down US-23 toward Mott Children’s Hospital, Sharon sat in the front seat, praying silently, trying to stay calm. Her husband and father cared for the other children—her daughter, not yet a year old at the time, still nursing and unable to be away from her for long.

The paramedic driving the ambulance tried to reassure Sharon, chatting about his own family. Suddenly, the medic in the back called out: “I can’t get an airway. Can we pull over?”

They stopped on the side of the road, and both paramedics worked urgently to stabilize her son. “It seemed like an eternity,” Sharon said. “And I honestly wondered if I was about to lose my son.” Thankfully, they were able to secure his airway and give him another dose of rescue medication, though he was still seizing.

Mercifully, they managed to secure his airway and administered another dose of rescue medication. But the seizures continued. At the hospital, they rushed him into a trauma bay. Sharon could barely keep track of what was happening. She only remembers watching him and thinking, “How long can a seizure last?”

Two hours and three rounds of rescue medication later, his seizures finally stopped. He fell into a deep, unconscious state—a postictal state common after seizures. He remained unresponsive for hours while doctors ran tests: a spinal tap, a CT scan, toxicology screens. Nothing explained what had caused the seizure. No infections, no exposures, no head trauma.

The next day, a neurologist visited. They admitted her son for further testing. An EEG revealed epileptiform abnormalities—evidence that her son had epilepsy.

In the days that followed, Sharon and her husband had to reckon with a new, permanent reality. Their son’s seizures were not a one-time emergency. He now needed medication three times a day, every day, to stay alive. And these medications were prohibitively expensive.

Thanks to the guidance of a long-time friend, another mother whose daughter lives with severe epilepsy, Sharon learned about Michigan Medicaid and Children’s Special Health Care Services. “I cannot communicate adequately the comfort and relief that comes from another parent who knows exactly what this experience is,” she said. Her friend reassured her: “This is hard. It sucks. It is miserable. And we can’t change this horrible fact that we’ve just discovered. But you have a community around you that loves you and is going to do our best to connect you with resources and help you understand how you can rebuild and restructure your life around this new reality to build a life that works, a life that is meaningful, a life that is connected. And this is not the end for your child or you. You just have to relearn how to live.”

Before they even left the hospital, a social worker helped them apply for Medicaid. Once their TRICARE coverage ended, Medicaid picked up seamlessly and, as Sharon says, “was literally lifesaving.”

Today, both of Sharon’s sons live with complex health conditions requiring daily medication and regular monitoring. For her middle son, epilepsy is unpredictable and dangerous. Missing a single dose could trigger a life-threatening seizure. He has two types of rescue medications—one for convulsive seizures, another for subtle or prolonged ones that are harder to detect.

Sharon and her husband must have medication with them at all times—in the home, at school, and with any caregiver. Their son has regular hospital stays, sometimes up to three times a year, for overnight EEG monitoring. Each of these stays costs tens of thousands of dollars. Without Medicaid, they could not afford a single one.

Sharon’s job as a school aide provides insurance, but it doesn’t come close to covering their needs. Her husband’s VA disability is steady, but with his own medical challenges, caused or exacerbated by his military service, and school obligations as he works towards his masters, full-time employment isn’t currently an option. Medicaid is the only way they survive.

Medicaid also makes it possible for Sharon to work. “I have my own health conditions, and because I have Medicaid and because I can go see my doctor regularly and manage them and take medication to manage them, I’m able to work. I feel pretty good most of the time.” Without that, she said, she would have many more days she couldn’t function. “Who could hold down a job under those conditions?”

Medicaid also covers the services that make it possible for her son to attend school safely. He has a one-on-one aide trained to respond to seizures, administer medication, and handle his seizure response service dog—who can smell the chemical changes that precede a seizure and alert nearby adults.

His IEP services—speech therapy, occupational therapy, and specialized educational support—are also funded through Medicaid. Sharon notes that “what is good for children with disabilities is actually good for everyone.” These services help her children not only survive, but grow, thrive, and imagine futures for themselves.

And they do dream. Her oldest son, a high schooler now, is beginning to explore what comes next—college, vocational training, a career. Her middle son still faces challenges every day, but because of medical care, therapy, and support, he too can imagine a life beyond survival.

Her daughter, thankfully, doesn’t have life-threatening conditions, but she still needs regular care. Sharon’s voice tightens when she says, “It breaks my heart to think that this life is possible for us because of such a simple intervention, such a basic human thing as medical care, and all of this would not exist without that”

She sees families every day who look like hers. Families with bright kids who love dance, robotics, woodworking, or archery—kids with curiosity and talent and potential. Most of those families don’t carry emergency medication. They don’t lie awake at night wondering if their child might die in their sleep. Sharon doesn’t begrudge them. But she wonders:

“Why should they have more of a right to their lives than we do to ours?”

Health care, she believes, shouldn’t be a privilege—it should be the foundation. The tool that allows every child to dream, contribute, and find their place in the world.

Sharon Watson has rebuilt her family’s life. She continues to advocate—not just for her own children, but for others in her school district and across the state, because she knows: Medicaid doesn’t just save lives. It gives those lives a future.