Dear Senators McCain, Obama and Clinton,

I'm a registered Pennsylvania voter who's been listening to you since the 2008 Presidential election season started shortly after the Berlin Wall came down. Now I'd appreciate it if you'd take a minute to listen to me.

As a student at the University of Pennsylvania, I'm pretty used to restless nights, but seven months was a bit much.

Well, I've been sleeping a lot better the last couple weeks. My wife's health insurance card finally came in the mail.

The guilt kept me awake. You've been married less than a year and you're already failing your family.

The worrying kept me awake. What if something happens? How will you take care of your wife? (Those worries still remain.) How will you pay the bills? The anxiety kept me awake. Is there any other option out there?

During those seven long months, my wife was a statistic. No one in the nation - no one in the world - deserves to be part of either statistical category that my wife was in.

She was one of 16 million under-insured Americans for part of that time. A hundred bucks or so doesn't get you much more than a policy that says, "We'll send you a get-well card and some chocolates if you get run over by a car on 38th Street."

Our glorious poverty and a clerical error meant that she spent the rest of that time as one of 47 million uninsured people in this country. Penn mandated I buy their insurance and then helped me pay for it, but it had no concern and no help for her.

Concerns like this aren't too far off for many Penn students. For young adults still safe under the umbrella of their parents' coverage, those days are numbered.

Those who get a pretty decent deal on the Penn's student insurance plan can kiss that goodbye when they graduate.

So McCain, you won a silver star and a purple heart? Well, you ought to try sitting in a welfare office disclosing every cent of money to your name on indecipherable forms for a few hours.

What's that, Clinton - you wrote a bestselling book? Well, my life wasn't complete until I discovered that we could qualify for 17 bucks a month of food stamps (I declined) but Medicaid wouldn't have anything to do with us because we didn't have any kids.

Congratulations on your two Grammys for your recorded books, Obama. Now you really ought to try sifting through hundreds of health-insurance policies and deciding which catastrophic events you'd rather have covered.

You've all said it.

There's something seriously wrong with our country's health-care system.

You can cite whatever facts you want: We spend more on health care (16 percent of our current GDP and 20 percent by 2016) than most other nations.

In a recent study on the number of preventable deaths in 19 industrialized nations, the United States placed first.

Half of the nation's population skipped recommended tests or treatment, didn't fill a prescription or refused to see a doctor when sick because of the cost.

Sara Collins is an assistant vice president of the Commonwealth Fund, an organization that comes up with spiffy numbers like those and promotes moving toward a "high performance health system."

She told me that in order to improve on those numbers, the country "really needs universal health insurance. That's a first step."

And for millions of families, like mine, it would be nice to have somewhere to turn - instead of being turned away.

"I really can't emphasize enough the importance of getting everyone into the system," Collins told me.

I look at my wife and tend to agree.

Zachary Noyce is a College junior from Salt Lake City, Utah. His e-mail is noyce@dailypennsylvanian.com. The Stormin' Mormon appears Mondays.