One cloudy Thursday in March, Ed Banning looked into his rear-view mirror and faced a terrible choice.

Nestled in a car seat behind him, his 2-year-old daughter, Adrienne, slept. Her nose was running -- again.

For months the single father had worked two jobs to be able to take care of his daughter without the government's help. But being off assistance also meant being without Medicaid -- and the jobs didn't come with health insurance of their own.

What if the runny nose turned into something worse?

The best way to take care of his daughter, Banning realized, was for him to do less for her.

That day, he drove the car to a state office, and asked for help.

"I just didn't want to do it," he said that night. "[But] I had to do it. I had to look out for her."

The choice made little sense to Banning -- and to dozens of others facing similar dilemmas. Work, and you risk having inadequate insurance, or even none at all. Or stay home, comforted by the notion that Medicaid will cover a child's ailments.

Banning did not want to stay home. He had been on assistance before, when he began taking care of Adrienne alone, and had worked hard to get off, first becoming a bus driver; then taking a second job as a grocery store cashier.

Banning desperately wanted to be independent, to be able to provide small extras for his daughter -- say, new sneakers -- unaffordable on a government check.

But with two jobs, he made too much to qualify for Medicaid. Being independent meant living with perpetual trepidation.

When Adrienne leaned over in her chair, he would grab it too quickly, saying with sad irony he could not afford for her to get hurt.

When she began to wheeze or sniffle, he gave her over-the-counter medicine, praying it would be enough.

The first time, after a couple of weeks, it was. But when her

nose began to run again, he was overwhelmed with worry.

"I feel guilty now," Banning said. "Can you imagine if something bad happened?"

So Banning surrendered the cashier's job and applied to the state for Medicaid.

For him, the move meant admitting defeat.

"I just felt like a part of me died," he said. "I gave it my best shot and it didn't work.

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