Capitol Crackdown: 34 Disabled & Disability Advocates Arrested in Powerful 'Die-In protest' Over Medicaid Cuts

On June 25, 2025, demonstrators—including individuals in wheelchairs—staged a powerful “die‑in” inside the Russell Senate Office Building, chanting “No cuts to Medicaid!” and 34 were arrested (NBC Washington). This wasn’t just a symbolic act—it was a desperate call for survival.

As someone who understands the reality of living with invisible diseases and chronic illnesses, I know firsthand that these policy decisions aren't abstract debates—they’re lifelines. When legislators talk about cutting Medicaid or adding work requirements, they’re often ignoring the quiet, daily struggles of millions who don’t look sick but battle relentless fatigue, pain, and complex medical routines.

Many of us with autoimmune disorders, rare diseases, or chronic conditions depend on Medicaid for access to specialists, prescriptions, physical therapy, mental health support, and sometimes even mobility aids. Without this safety net, delays in care can mean irreversible damage or worse. Policies like work requirements often fail to consider people with fluctuating illnesses that don’t fit into neat categories. These aren’t people unwilling to work, they’re people trying to survive.

Medicaid cuts don’t just shrink a budget—they shrink the humanity in our healthcare.

A non‑partisan projection estimates that millions could lose healthcare coverage under proposed Medicaid reforms, with an additional 42,500 preventable deaths per year attributed to delayed treatment, reduced access to primary care, and complications from unmanaged chronic conditions (The Guardian).

For people living with chronic illnesses or invisible disabilities, these numbers are not theoretical—they represent real, daily risks. Delayed access to care can escalate manageable conditions into emergencies. Skipping treatment due to cost isn’t a choice—it’s a trap.

A landmark study in The Lancet revealed that when Medicaid access is rolled back, detection of chronic diseases like diabetes, hypertension, and cancer declines sharply. In states with Medicaid cuts, early-stage diabetes diagnoses fell, leading to more patients presenting with severe complications that could have been prevented with routine care (The Lancet).

Moreover, cuts tend to disproportionately affect marginalized communities, including low-income families, disabled individuals, and racial minorities, deepening existing health disparities and further straining emergency services.

Case studies from Arkansas and Georgia offer a chilling glimpse into what happens when Medicaid work requirements are imposed.

In Arkansas, more than 18,000 people lost coverage within the first year of the state’s Medicaid work policy rollout, not because they were unwilling to comply, but because of burdensome reporting systems, digital barriers, and poor communication. Many were people with undiagnosed or episodic illnesses, who were not categorized as "disabled" under narrow definitions but still medically vulnerable (The Guardian).

Meanwhile, Georgia’s similar policy was projected to result in significant coverage losses without increasing workforce participation. In both states, administrative costs ballooned to over $26 million—a figure that exceeded any potential savings from disenrollment. And those who lost coverage often turned to emergency rooms, shifting costs to hospitals and taxpayers.

The data is clear: these policies don’t save money.

The Capitol “die-in” was a warning bell echoing across the country. If these proposed $793 billion Medicaid cuts clear Congress, we’re not just looking at policy changes; we’re facing a slow-moving public health disaster.

For people like me living with chronic illness and invisible disabilities, these cuts would be devastating. Many of us cannot work full-time due to the unpredictable nature of our conditions, and policies that tie healthcare access to employment completely erase our reality. We're not opting out of work, we're fighting to survive.

Here’s what that looks like:

• Reduced access to life-saving screenings (cancer, diabetes, and autoimmune flare monitoring) due to lost coverage or unaffordable copays

• Lack of consistent pain treatment and specialist care, especially for conditions like fibromyalgia, lupus, Crohn’s, or Ehlers-Danlos

• Loss of access to biologics and advanced therapies, which are often the only line of defense for stabilizing autoimmune disease

• Barriers to alternative and supportive care—including physical therapy, mental health, and integrative medicine—that help people avoid emergency visits

• Rising unmet medical needs, especially in rural and low-income communities, where Medicaid clinics are often the only option

• Shrinking hospital and clinic capacity, risking closures, long wait times, or patients turned away

• Financial devastation from paying out of pocket for essential treatments or delaying care until conditions worsen

These impacts are personal and permanent. They’re not felt by policymakers behind a desk. They’re felt by patients in bed, at pharmacies, in pain, and out of options.

This is why we protest. This is why we shout. Because when the system fails us, silence is not an option.

You don’t have to be arrested at a protest to make your voice heard. There are meaningful actions you can take today to help protect Medicaid, especially if you're living with a chronic illness or disability, or supporting someone who is.

• Contact your Senators and Representatives directly
  Use tools like resist.bot or USA.gov to send faxes, emails, or make calls. Be specific: tell your story or the story of a loved one who depends on Medicaid access.

• Write a letter to the editor or submit an op-ed
  Share how proposed cuts would affect people with invisible illnesses, seniors, children, or caregivers. Local voices carry weight in local papers—and lawmakers read them.

• Form or join a local Medicaid advocacy task force
  Check Facebook, Reddit, or local organizations for groups involved in disability justice, healthcare access, and Medicaid policy. Your presence, even virtual, matters.

• Share your story with advocacy groups
  Groups like the National Health Law Program, The Arc, Center on Budget and Policy Priorities (CBPP), or Patients Rising often feature personal stories in campaigns and testimonies to Congress.

• Use social media with intention
  Hashtags like #NoMedicaidCuts, #ChronicIllnessMatters, #HealthcareIsAHumanRight help your content reach the right circles. Share protest footage, infographics, and explain your personal stakes.

• Amplify disabled voices
  Repost or comment on content by people with chronic illness, disability, or who are at risk. Tag elected officials when sharing factual data or news reports.

• Organize a virtual “die-in” or awareness campaign
  If you can’t attend physical events, collaborate online. Post photos lying down with signs like “I could die without Medicaid” or “My illness is invisible—my needs are not.”

• Educate your circle
  Many people don't realize Medicaid covers not just the unemployed, but also the working poor,  elderly, the disabled, and children. Use real data and stories to counter myths and stigma.

Let’s keep it real: that protest on June 25? That wasn’t just some folks showing out for the cameras, it was people putting their bodies on the line to say “we tired, and we not takin’ it no more.” Wheelchairs, signs, chants—34 arrested just for demanding to stay alive. Now that’s a whole sermon.

Meanwhile, Congress is out here playing games with this so-called “One Big Beautiful Bill.” Beautiful for whom? Not the single mama with lupus tryna stretch her meds. Not the elder on dialysis. Not folks like me living with invisible illnesses, wondering if next month’s meds or next month’s rent get paid. This bill? It’s giving “cut the care, keep the chaos.”

Medicaid is not a handout it’s a hand up. It’s what’s keeping a whole lot of sick folks & low-income communities, alive and breathing.