Ester picks up her medication then glances at the mirror. She notices a black tally-mark she drew with her eye-liner the morning before. She adds another to remind herself that she can't take her prescription that day. Instead, she can only take it every third day.

Since late January, Ester has been forced to follow this life-gambling routine because she can't afford health insurance, similar to many Tombstone residents.

"I have to keep my pills stretched by taking two a week till I can afford my new prescription," Ester said. "I don't have health insurance ... But I don't want to risk getting cancer again."

Ester recently moved to Tombstone with her husband, Devon, 34, her daughter, Portia Brackney, 21, and her step-daughter, Brenna Ester, 13. The last time she had insurance was in December last year, right before she left her job as a medical assistant surgical coordinator at Ventura Ear Nose & Throat Inc. in California.

She explained the reason why she left her job and moved was primarily due to the emotionally draining procedures she went through as a breast cancer patient.

"You really lose yourself during the process ... I was about ready to go into depression," Ester recalled, teary-eyed. "I wanted to move, I wanted to get away. I wanted to get a whole new life and a whole new way of thinking. I did not even think about health insurance, but I was grateful to have it when I needed it most."

As a result, Ester can't apply for health coverage until June when her six-month insurance waiting period ends.

"It upsets me. I should have continued care no matter what. I should be able to go from one insurance to another," she said.

But even if she was able to jump from one insurer to the next, she still would struggle affording the high premiums.

In fact, Ester explained that her previous employer offered her insurance using the Consolidated Omnibus Budget Reconciliation Act, or COBRA. This insurance program grants few employees the ability to continue health coverage, even after leaving employment.

"But it's still 200 something dollars a month. I can't afford it,"
Ester said.

Not having health insurance worries her, especially since she already knows what it's like not being covered, especially when she needed a life-dependent surgery.

When she was 31, Ester developed cervical cancer. Just like today, she didn't have health insurance.

"That was a frightening moment," Ester recalled. "They were going to charge me about $400,000 for everything ... I couldn't have surgery till I gave them money."

Fortunately, she discovered that the hospital offered a service called Medically Indigent Adult, or MIA. It helps provide health insurance to individuals who lack coverage and can't qualify for other government-funded insurance.

"Luckily, I was approved for that. About a week later, they had me in for surgery," she said.

Despite experiencing the risk of not having health insurance first-hand, Ester is more focused on getting situated in Tombstone before getting situated with coverage.

"We didn't realize it takes a lot to move to a tiny town like this ... All companies ask for money upfront and we weren't prepared for that. It's our fault there," Ester said. "But once we become financially stable, I'll go ahead and get insurance for my family."

She admits that her family is currently living paycheck to paycheck, trying to afford the bills, groceries and her $117 prescription. But when she can afford her prescription, she stresses over the thought of not being able to pay other bills. In her condition, stress is the last thing she needs.

"I am stressed every day. I worry about how much I'm going to get this week. I strategize what I'm going to spend," she said. "But then I think, 'I got to stop worrying. Cancer is going to eat it up. I got to calm down and think about things.'"

Ester's family tries to reduce her stress. Portia and Brenna try to help their parents pay for the bills and medication with the extra dollars they earn from their jobs.

"She's my mother," Portia said. "I feel it's right to support her like
she supported me when I was growing up."

"They volunteer to do it ... I feel guilty like I'm taking something away from them because it's something they worked for," Ester said. "But they insist and take it upon themselves. I feel proud of them."

Devon greatly helps by always supporting his wife.

"I back her at whatever she needs. I'm her rock. I've been through it all with her. Most guys wouldn't ... I'm in it for the long haul," Devon said.

Until Ester and her family can become "financially stable" to afford health insurance, Ester is left making some sacrifices, including taking her medication twice a week.

"My doctor said that if you miss a pill, you might as well not take it because the cancer could come back easily and quickly," she said.

"But I'd rather take what I can if it's going to help ease my mind, my insecurities, my fears. At least in my mind I know there's some medication in there. I'm just hoping for the best," said