Hospitals’ good deed points out flaw.

Orlando Health and Florida Hospital’s decision to forgive medical bills for victims of the shooting at Pulse nightclub is noble and humane.

The people recovering from gunshot wounds and other injuries will now have one less source of stress: they won’t have to worry about paying thousands of dollars to cover their treatment.

For this, the hospitals deserve to be applauded.

Such a gesture, though, also points out a terrible flaw in the way our health care system typically operates in the United States.

The stark reality is that whether you come down with a serious illness or injure a knee on the soccer field or get shot on a dance floor while the music is still pumping, it’s all too common for medical bills to add up to financial despair in this country.

Debt related to medical treatment is often cited as a reason people file bankruptcy.

Even among those with insurance, one in five working-age people say they’ve had trouble paying health costs recently, a Kaiser Family Foundation and New York Times survey found earlier this year.

The same survey found that more than half of people who are uninsured say they are having trouble paying medical bills.

Some of the more than 40 Pulse survivors who spent time in the hospitals (one is still at Orlando Health) would certainly fall into one of those two categories if they were billed.

Many are young and likely hadn’t had time to build up much of a savings cushion. And some have struggled to return to work since the horrific early morning of June 12 when 49 people died.

Knowing their bills won’t be turned over to a collections agency or reported to the credit bureaus must be at least one small relief at the end of a summer that altered their lives forever.

If only we could solve this problem for everyone else, too.

Bad things happen to people every day in this country and they are required to pay some of the highest health care costs in the world.

A cancer diagnosis. A fall from a ladder. A high-risk pregnancy.

Other countries such as the United Kingdom, Sweden and Canada use a version of what’s called a “single-payer” system in which the government essentially offers one big public insurance program.

No system is perfect. There are flaws with single-payer, too.

But our system is a trainwreck with thousands of private and public insurance companies plus individuals all paying different prices for the same procedure in the same town and even in the same hospital.

More people have coverage today, thanks to the Affordable Care Act.

Whether someone faces potential financial ruin after a brutal injury or debilitating illness shouldn’t be left to the mercy of hospital executives.

Despite its name, though, the act did nothing to bring down costs. Just look at the $600 EpiPen. Or soaring deductibles. Or any hospital bill with its opaque calculus of sky-high charges.

A Vox.com story described how we pay for medical care and prescription drugs this way:

“Other countries are essentially buying in bulk, like shopping at Costco. The United States does the equivalent of going to the local grocery store — and paying more.”

We’re paying Whole Foods prices.

Here in Florida, our politicians refuse to expand Medicaid, which leaves a lot of low-income people without any coverage.

Orlando Health, which saw revenue of $1.7 billion during the most recent year available, and Florida Hospital, whose parent company reported $3.5 billion, are non-profit hospital systems that receive millions of dollars in tax breaks each year in exchange for providing charitable care.

How much they provide is up to the hospitals.

In the case of Pulse, Orlando Health said it will write off more than $5 million, the cost of treating 44 patients.

Florida Hospital will write off more than $500,000, the cost of treating 12 people hurt in the nightclub.

But whether someone faces potential financial ruin after a brutal injury or debilitating illness shouldn’t be left to the mercy of hospital executives.

We all deserve a better system than that.