A young coal miner gets back from his local county hospital and hangs his head. The one, overworked, doctor at the hospital just gave him the worst news he could get, he's suffering from severe Coronary Artery Disease, and he's gonna need bypass surgery if he hopes to survive to next spring. He takes out the envelope with his bill on it and sighs in resignation.
"Well, Cleetus, looks like yer not gonna make it." He says to himself, "Not even 25 years old an' ah'm gonna kick the bucket 'nless ah can pull together 'nuther twenty grand. Mah son's just turned 3 an' he's gun' have ta watch his daddy die. If only there was sumthin' I could do 'bout it."
A flash of inspiration strikes him! He's heard about "universal healthcare" before, which would make all medicine free and give him top-class surgery with absolutely no downsides. If he just voted different in the next election, and told all his fellow dying hospital patients about this newfangled technology, that tiny county hospital could be upgraded to the state-of-the-art trauma center and fix all their problems just as soon as the new mayor hits the office.
"Woo-whee, ah gotta get out there an' tell all those-waaaaait a minute." He stops himself, hand on the doornkob. "There're some niggers at that hospital too, ain't there? If ah tell everyone 'bout that universal healthcare, then sure, ah'll survahve, but they might make that healthcare available to th' niggers too! Is it worth livin' if it means they live too?" He thinks for a second, "Damn, they could even fix mah wife's liver disease, ah can't risk it. Looks like ol' Billy Bob's gunna grow up without a daddy."
As he makes his decision, one last heart attack strikes him, racking his body with pain as he collapses, his wife and son rush to the room with tears in their eyes, but he can't even get any last words out. And as the last light is just about to fade from his eyes, he sees the devil coming to drag him to hell, with a black woman slung under his arm, and he smiles. It was all worth it.
Many such cases!