in their communities, citing the need to address what are sometimes called social determinants of health.
For others, such debt can compound financial struggles brought on by an accident or unexpected illness that forces them to stop working, jeopardizing their health coverage or ability to pay for housing.widespread medical debt among residents in homeless encampments. And those with such debt tended to experience homelessness two years longer than encampment residents without it.
Atencio, who is transgender, has close-cropped dark hair and a large tattoo on his right forearm memorializing two friends who died in a car accident. Sitting on an aging couch in an apartment with bars on the windows, he’s philosophical about his long journey from that medical crisis through years of debt and housing insecurity. “We’ve pulled ourselves out of this,” he said. “But it took a toll.”
“You end up in this cycle,” he said. “You get into debt. Then you take out loans to try to pay off some of the debt. But then there’s all this interest.” With poor credit, Atencio relied at times on payday lenders, whose high interest rates can dramatically increase what borrowers owe. Many employers also check credit scores, which made it difficult for Atencio to land anything but low-wage jobs.
Lindsey Vance, 40, who moved to Denver five years ago seeking more affordable housing than the Washington, D.C., area where she was from, still can’t buy a house because of medical debts. She and her husband have a six-figure income, but medical bills for even routine care that she’s struggled to pay since her 20s have depressed her credit score, making it difficult to get a loan. “We’re stuck in a holding pattern,” she said.