ALLENTOWN, PA. — Junior Clase's kitchen counter reflects his life and struggles in the United States, prominently featuring items like deodorant bottles he sends back home to the Dominican Republic, a Spanish-language Bible, and medical supplies for his wife, Solibel Olaverria.
Solibel’s journey took a dramatic turn when she experienced severe headaches and vomiting shortly after arriving in the U.S. Just five months into her stay, she was diagnosed with a brain aneurysm that necessitated urgent surgery. The situation escalated further when she suffered a stroke during the procedure, landing her in a coma.
Since December 2022, she has not returned home, prompting significant concern from Clase about her future. In a distressing turn of events in February 2023, he was confronted with the suggestion from hospital administrators to repatriate his comatose wife back to the Dominican Republic — an option he vehemently rejected for fear it could lead to her death during transport.
This chilling reality highlights a controversial practice termed 'medical deportation' by advocates, while hospitals refer to it as 'medical repatriation.' The practice occurs in a complex area of law and ethics, often without clear consent from patients, particularly among uninsured immigrants facing hospital discharge.
Lori Nessel, a law professor at Seton Hall University, argues that such repatriations amount to 'private deportation,' bypassing traditional immigration processes. The lack of regulation governing these actions allows hospitals to navigate this murky terrain with minimal accountability.
In recent years, numerous cases of medical repatriation have emerged, particularly as a result of inadequate healthcare access for undocumented immigrants following policy changes that limit their eligibility for programs like Medicaid. Hospital practices have come under scrutiny, with organizations like the Free Migration Project documenting cases of individuals facing forced repatriation.
Despite initially qualifying for emergency medical care under federal law requiring treatment regardless of immigration status, Olaverria's access to care dwindled with additional budget cuts to emergency medical funding proposed by the Trump administration.
As advocates rally against medical deportation, events surrounding Olaverria's case gained media attention, sparking protests and legislative efforts. Philadelphia has since enacted a progressive law requiring hospitals to obtain written consent from patients before any transfer, making it the first city to legislate against medical deportation.
Though Olaverria began receiving long-term care in May 2023, her path to recovery remains fragile. The story of Clase and Olaverria underscores the intersection of healthcare and immigration in the U.S. and the urgent need for reform to ensure equitable medical access for all regardless of immigration status.
As they continue to navigate this challenging landscape, Clase remains committed to supporting his wife daily amidst a healthcare system that often looks past the delicate issues surrounding immigrants.
Currently, the couple is in the process of applying for a visa to secure a longer stay in the U.S., casting uncertainty over Olaverria's ongoing treatment but also reflecting a glimmer of hope for their future.
