Adventure since April - Or What I've been Doing with My Life :D

Wow. It has been awhile since I've posted anything. Sorry about that. I am a terrible poster/blogger.

Some of this maybe a recap, but I figured I'd start where things started to get "interesting".

Back in April the CT scan showed my small intestine folding back into itself creating a blockage, along with three tumors.

The doctor calls and tells me to get to the ER at Mary Washington. OK, so I go.

Apparently they already told the ER I was coming in because I was taken right away without the usual paper trail. You guessed it, I was admitted. Surgery was scheduled for Sunday. I believe I was admitted Friday. Now this was April, and the quarantine/isolation was in full swing. No elective surgeries, but I had one scheduled, made me think maybe this is serious. There were no visitors allowed at the hospital too.

They couldn't visit but they still stopped to let me know.

They got the blockage, along with the three tumors, apparently they were close to the blockage. I was left with the minimal length of small intestine you can survive with, and an ileostomy bag. Which for the record I still hate, and want to get reversed.

They kept me for two weeks? Maybe two and a half, made sure I could deal with the bag, and then let me go home.

After being home for a few days I started to feel like my old self, and started cooking, picking up the usual. I was starting to adjust to my "new" normal. Even was driving!

That lasted three weeks to the day of surgery. After losing a game of Catan to Liz, I felt tired. 9 PM seems to be a good time to go to bed anymore. They say you need less time sleeping the older you get. My hinny! I need more!

As I walked down the hall to my room I got a sudden sharp pain in the left side of my lower abdomen. Sharp, stabbing pain. I'm thinking I'll lay down and breathe through the pain. Yeah, right. Half an hour later I let Jim know I had to go to the ER.

Well, I couldn't walk because of the pain, and I would have had to go down two sets of stairs to get to the car. So 911 was called and the Stafford County EMTs showed up. They actually are able to "walk" the gurney down the stairs. They didn't carry me, the legs of the gurney extended and they "adjusted" as we went down the stairs.

I was admitted through the ER. My blood pressure was staying in the 90s so they couldn't give me anything for the pain. Once it hit 100/65 the nurse wasted no time giving me pain meds. You have no idea how grateful I was.

CT scan was done, I developed ulcers in my small intestine. They kept me and had me on all kinds of IVs. One was nutrition, another fluids, two others antibiotics. They had so many IVs in me, not only did they use my port, but had a pic line put in too! Which by the was took the doctor TWO tries to get in.

The ulcers healed, then something else "went bad", and we'd treat that. One episode the issue with the Vena Cava narrowing caused my neck to swell up do bad that I literally had no neck. I couldn't swallow water. I would choke on it. They gave me "super" steroids and the swelling came down, took a bit to get over choking on water. Then something else went. And they would start trying to fix it.

They were dealing with changing out IVs, my poor right arm was being stuck for the millionth time for blood, there was the nurse, assistant, doctors, vampire with a needle, and someone else in the room.

I was feeling weak, ill, crowded. I finally said stop. Enough. Just let me go. I was in bad shape and I knew it. But I was tired of everything, it all got too much for me. I kept saying "I am done, no more treatment, no more chemo, I am done".

Magically everything stopped. Blissful silence! The needle stopped poking my arm. I signed a DNR, they took all the IVs out. It felt like heaven. My poor left arm was so full of fluid that it was swollen and actually leaking through the pores! I was in really bad shape. I could barely walk two steps.

They got the Hospice folks in touch with Jim, and worked out getting a hospital bed, commode, medication, walker, oxygen and whatever else they thought necessary for me to be at home. Jim, Liz and Jasmine rearranged the bedrooms and house for the deliveries.

I got to go home in an ambulance. I've ridden more in them this year than I ever cared to. I was really worried about going home. Let's face it, I couldn't walk, if I took two steps I needed someone to lean on. I was worried that they would tell Jim to come and get me, and then he'd have to figure out how to get me up the stairs. But that was a worry I didn't need to concern myself with.

Once I got home they used the same type of gurney to "walk" me up the stairs and into my bedroom. I was worried that they would need me to get up and move myself to my new bed, but they said I was so tiny that they could lift me on the sheet. And they did.

It felt wonderful to be home. I felt tired. Sick, and emotionally exhausted. Oh, I started all this at 109 pounds. By the time I got back home I was down to 77 pounds.

My blood pressure stayed in the 80s. I was dizzy moving my head. I didn't want to eat or drink, I just wanted to sleep.

Hospice nurses came in, I was put on meds to help stimulate my hunger, one to help my sleep.

Jim, Liz, Jasmine and my sister Addie, took care of me. Made sure I got fed, made it to the commode, changed my bag, I was a mess those first few weeks.

Then slowly I started getting around with the walker, still dizzy, but making it out of the bedroom on occasion. Then it got to be more time out. Even had made a couple of trips as a passenger in the car. Right now I get around pretty good. No walker, I just take it slow. I spend a good part of the day at the kitchen island reading and surfing. Not to mention the naps I take.

I've come a long way, but it has taken close to three months to get where I am right now. It will be three months I've been home at the end of August.

I was talking to my nurse the last time she visited. She is amazed at how well I am doing. She told me when she first met me she didn't think I had two weeks left. I was that bad. Jim, Liz, and Jasmine didn't think I had long either. Shows you what being home can do for you.

Now I am trying to gain weight, adjusting to the lower blood pressure, building up strength. Just trying to get better so maybe I can drive again and maybe even get the ileostomy reversed. But that will take time. It took three months to get where I am, so I know I need to work on my patience.

And now you are up to date!

Lost in the Sauce

Lost in the sauce is a good way of putting how I have been feeling lately.  Well, at least since I read the CT Scan report.

Well actually, it started before my reading the report.  It all started with a phone call from the doctor's office.  I get a call "Go to the ER, NOW."  I ask why.  The nurse replies "I don't have that information, the doctor wants you to go to the ER NOW.  Which ER are you going to?"  I said ok, I'm going to Stafford Hospital ER, now.  They actually called the ER and told them I was on my way.  

When I got there, I had maybe  a 5 minute wait before I was in the back in one of those wonderful hospital gowns.  The nurse that walked me back told me the doctor's office called and let them know  I would be there, and I would have to wait to talk to the doctor about the CT Scan.

Turned out that my intestine is folding back on itself.  Insusseption I believe it is called.  Blood is taken, the ER doctor talks to the surgeon that did my Whipple, it comes down to wait and see.  If I get any severe pain, or start running a fever, get to the ER because they will have to do surgery.  OK I can handle that.  So I got to go  home.  But during the conversation with the ER doctor, he mentioned there were new tumors in my intestine.  I thought I heard him say that but was more concernced over the possiblity of having to have emergency surgery and how  I was going to have the dogs taken care of and how I was gonig to get home.  So I let it go.  My mind didn't acknowledge the fact the tumors spread.

Then I finally got the notice that the report for the CT Scan was available. It was one of those good news/bad news type of deals.  The good news is that the chemo I am on (Votrient) helped shrink the tumor in my left lung by 2 mm.  Actually, that would be great news if that were the only news there was.  The bad news, two new tumors in the intestine.  Still in the back of my mind I wanted to have misread there were two new tumors.

To be honest, I wasn't all that concerned, I figured I'd see my oncologist and they would change my chemo to see if it would help.

Let me be honest, I was getting anxious over the whole thing.  I wanted to see the doctor and get the chemo changed.  Somehow I wanted to believe that maybe I read the report wrong.

I mean seriously, how does chemo work on tumors above the waist, but lets tumors grow below the waist?  The chemo is in the blood!  It goes everywhere.

Well, I finally got to see my doctor, I was in a fairly good mood.  All I needed him to do was confirm what my mind wanted to happen, change the chemo.  

This time he said the word surgery.  That stopped me cold. He wants me to talk to my general surgeon and to an oncology surgeon.  What they decided determines what happens next.  Right now I am waiting for the offices to call me to set up appointments.  They were supposed to be set up for next week, but so far I haven't heard from either one.  So I am stuck again in the holding pattern. I saw Dr. VAughn on the third of March.

I am not that crazy about surgery.  I've had two abdominal surgeries in the past.  I was cut open from above my belly button to just above the pelvic bone so they could access the intestines.  They were not easy surgeries.  They took a lot out of me.  

Part of what is bothering me this happened when I just started to work out and try to get into better shape, funny thing being is that one of the reasons in the back of my head was because of possible surgery.  Part is the fact I actually have been taking steps to go back to school for the summer quarter.  That is May.

Recovery from surgery can take a long time for me.  It isn't as simple as people think.  It isn't a snip, snip you are done type of thing.  People mistakenly think that.

Add to that if they decide that surgery just isn't an option for me, Doctor Vaughn is talking about adding another drug to the Votrient to see if it will help.  Which translates into more side effects. How will that affect school?

On top of that Doc looks at me and says "You've been battling this for a long time.  The bag is getting thin."  Translation - they are running out of things to try.  I'm at the bottom of the barrel scraping it. 

I may be running or have run out of options.

I have all this running through my head while waiting for a doctor's office to call with an appointment.  No wonder I am depressed.

A Visit to a FB Post - The Gift of Experience

I posted this on Facebook a year ago, and to be honest, I forgot about it.  That is until today when someone liked it.  I re read it and started wishing I would have rediscovered it at the beginning of the hectic holiday season.  

Everyone is in such a hurry to find the perfect gift, rushing here and there, using up their life energy to find it.  What if that perfect gift was as close as your phone?  You know what I mean, that thing you are probably reading this on.  It really is a multi functioning tool!!

Not only can this be a perfect thing for someone on your list, it is also a gift to yourself.  What a bargain! Two for one!

I was chatting with a friend a while ago.  She was lamenting over getting a gift for a mutual friend.

My suggestion was - give her an experience.

Her response - I can't afford to give an experience!  That stuff is expensive!!  Then I explained.

The gift of an experience is not a big trip.  It could be something as simple as finding a new coffee roaster, going there and having a cup of coffee enjoying the fact you are together chatting.  Or to a bakery that is out of the way known for pie, a card or letter, whatever your imagination can come up with.  Maybe a trip to the zoo.  Or simply sitting on a park bench enjoying the weather having lunch.  Or a phone call just to laugh at things in memory lane.  Yes, phone calls are gifts.  (Even to those of us who have come to hate phones)

A gift of experience doesn't have to be something big, heck, it doesn't even have to be from someone else.  You can give yourself gifts of experiences.  

The gift is connection.  That connection will last longer than things.

Think of it this way.  Things are just things.  They can be useful, or decorative, even wearable.  But they get old and fade, maybe break, go out of fashion or just become a bother because it is one more thing to handle or deal with.  

An experience is forever!!  The memory is always there accessible. The laughter or the simple serenity of the moment the sunshine feeling warm on your face and the breeze gently blowing your hair.

So we all can give each other and ourselves those memorable gifts.

The Four Emotional Stages of Terminal Cancer

Well, some people may say there are more, but I believe there are four major stages.

Stage I - Devastation & Anger

Your world is on fire and there is nothing you can do

No one wants to hear the words you have cancer.  Honestly.  No one.  There is less than no one that wants to hear the words you are terminal.  Although, come to think of it, I am not sure they word it that way today.

I am going to be honest here.  I didn't go through this stage; well, at least the devastation part.  I had actually expected to hear it.  When you are diagnoised for the sixth time and they tell you that all they could do was de-bulk the tumors, you sort of know.  But I will admit, when one doctor slipped and said "I encourage all my terminal patients to go do what they want."  I thought, well damn it is about time someone said something.

During this stage you grieve for your life.  You grieve for those you will leave behind.  You grieve because you don't want to cause anyone pain.  You grieve for the things you want to do but won't be able to.

The devastation slowly turns to anger, and for some it boils red hot.  You're angry about cancer interfering with your life, your plans.  Basically it just came in and F**ked up your world.

After being red hot angry, you start to funnel all that negative anger into the next stage, well hopefully you do.

I actually forgot about the anger part and had to do an edit to add it.  Anger is such a negative feeling and it really doesn't help.  Yes, I went through the anger.  How dare cancer come back again and again to interfere with my life?

When I am feeling angry, I try to funnel the anger into Stage II.

You don your shiny armor and brave face

Stage II - Fight to Win
During this stage you put on your shining armor and proclaim to the world you will fight this monster and you will beat it.

You gather your troops, your family and friends.  They cheer you on.  They even help you do things you have only dreamed of.  They watch you with pride and admiration.

You laugh at the cancer, knowing that you are greater than it.

You are proud to set the example of being brave in the face of death.

In reality this stage can be exhausting.




Stage III - Acceptance

In this stage your armor is beat up a bit, lots of dings, you've been through chemo, maybe even radiation and surgery.

You start to accept and come to terms with your mortality.  You start to encourage people to do things, make memories.  Don't give things as gifts, give experiences and memories.  Memories last forever.

You realize how precious the little things are.  You even work on the bucket list.  Maybe even with a vengeance.  That way you have memories.  You take whoever you can on the journeys so they have the memories too.

You  notice your friends may not be around much, not that they don't want to be but they have lives of their own and you seem to be doing well.

You haven't given up, and you fight, but you start really living life like you should have all along.

Stage IV - Exhaustion - Isolationism

You are tired before you even start

Your armor is pretty damaged here.  You've been through hell and back.  In the beginning of this you start to pull back from people.  You don't want to have them hurting when you die.  Gradually you pull back till there is no one around or very, very few.

You try to protect others by isolating yourself.

Add to that the emotional, mental and physical exhaustion of doctors appointments, scans, blood tests, chemo, radiation, even counseling for some.

In the back of your mind you think, how much longer?  How long to I have to act like everything is fine, that I am ok.  How much longer before the chemo doesn't work, how much longer before I end up in the hospital.

You feel like your whole life has become cancer.  Everything you do or plan revolves around it. It is emotionally and physically exhausting.  It is depressing.

Depression really rears its ugly head here.  It feeds the negative feelings, the negative feelings feed the depression.  It is a vicious cycle.

You convince yourself it is for everyone's best

This is the stage you need help the most, but most people don't realize it happens.  They always believe the brave face, and miss the little things that give it away.

How can you help prevent them from isolating?  Get involved, go for coffee - don't take no for an answer.  Don't let the person be alone all of the time.  24/7 alone in ones head can cause some reall messes.  Pick up the phone.  Trust me at this stage they aren't picking the phone up to call anyone if they can avoid it.

Do something to let them know that they haven't been forgotten.

I know communication goes both ways but when you are in this stage it isn't easy to admit it, and harder yet to ask for help.

Hell, I can't say anything about asking for help.  It is the hardest thing in the world for me to do so I just keep my mouth shut other than when I whine in my journal or blog.

Some people will go back and forth between Stage III - Acceptance and Stage IV - Exhaustion/Isolationism.

I've just spent a long time in Stage IV.  I am working to bring myself out of it.  I am trying to reach

You hide your feelings

out and socialize more.  It isn't easy.  But I am working on it.

I am also working on the asking for help thing.  Not doing so well with that.  I am blessed to have a couple of friends that see my red flags,  and family that does too.

Just remember, there is no time limit to any one of these stages.  A person can experience all four in one day, or different ones on different days.  You can experience them in different orders.

There is no hard fast rule to this, well, maybe there is one.  It is an emotional rollercoaster.

It is a rollercoaster we do not want to ride but have no choice.

It is a rollercoaster we ride and unfortunately we need our family and friends to ride it with us on occasion to make it possible to keep fighting.

Just remember, our caregivers go through this too.  It is really hard on them.  They don't know what to do and if we don't communicate, they feel helpless and lost.  Just as much as we do.

Cancer is hard on us, but it is just as hard on family and friends.  They want to fix us, to make us better and healthy, but they can't.

Being able to communicate is the key.  So if they push to help, don't be angry, be grateful.  Let them help.  Don't be hard headed.  Learn to ask for help.

Always, always be kind to yourself.

The Most Asked Question - How do you do it?

I'm not sure that today is the best day to be writing this; but the words are rolling around in my head and I can get on the laptop to put them into "print."  The reason I say that is I am not in the best of head spaces at the moment, but maybe that is not so bad.  It means a glimpse into the other side.

I don't know how I do it.  Part of it is guilt.  Does that surprise you?  Yes guilt.  I feel that I would be abandoning the people I love.  Abandoning my son and daughter, my sisters, my friends.  I feel the guilt because I can imagine the sadness that my death would bring them.  I do not want people I love to feel sad because of me.

Here is the other side of the guilt.  I feel guilty for still being around when so many that have been diagnosed after me had passed on.  Survivor's guilt they call it.  It sucks.  I've lost too many people to cancer.  Waiting for it to take me is like waiting for the other shoe to drop.

How do I do it?  I don't know.  I am tired.  I  may have mentioned it before in a post.  But I am tired of cancer.

Once was enough, 2003 was more than enough, but no for some reason I drew the lucky number in the cancer lottery.  2011 was awful.  I lost 2/3 of my right lung that year, and part of my intestines.  Spent three quarters of the year doing chemo, surgery, and being hospitalized.  Even lost a portion of my right pectoral muscle that year.  That was the year the earthquake hit Virginia.  I was in the hospital when it hit.  Then 2013, 2014, twice in 2016.

The first time in 2016 was May.  Tumor in the lung showed up.  Surgery, they got good margins, no chemo.  Then again in November.  I started feeling like I couldn't breath because of bronchitis or walking pneumonia.  Finally went to the ER.  Boy was I wrong.  Surgery was scheduled right before Christmas.  I thought they would just go in remove the tumors, but no, all they could do was drain the lung and debulk the tumors.  They are in my left lung, on the sack of the heart, in the lymph nodes, on the Vena Cava, and aorta.  Surgery really isn't an option anymore.

So yeah, I am tired.  I am tired of the trips to the doctor's office and his smiling face, telling me how great I am doing even though they really can't do anything for the cancer other than try to keep it from spreading, which really has been proven fruitless.  Eight months on a chemo and it spreads.  Since January 2017 I have been on three different chemo drugs.

I am tired of the blood draws, the CT scans, waiting for the reports.  I am tired of them trying to make everything sound so up.  Just be straight with me.  Did it spread?  Yes or no?  What is the next drug?  Just tell me.

Right now they are trying to give me quality of life rather than quantity.

The chemo I am on, Votrient, is the easiest chemo I've been on.  So far my side effects have been nausea, some fatigue, some shortness of breath, and my hair changing from dark brown to varying shades of silver and grey.  Salt and pepper.

I am tired of having to remember to take poison every morning.  800 mg of it.  Yeah, my breakfast is 800 mg of Votrient and water.  I have to wait about 15 minutes before I can have my first cup of coffee.

I am tired of feeling weak.  The Yolandis that I was on caused major breathing issues, so my physical activity was limited.  Kind of hard to want to do something physical when you can't breath.  Now on the Votrient the breathing issues are still there, but improved 100%.  I need to start working out to get into better shape, but I need motivation.

I am tired of feeling like I am a drain on my family and friends.

I am tired of worrying about co payments, taking meds, fighting the bills that were supposed to be covered.  Tired of worrying about gap insurance now I am on Medicare.

Did you know that insurance companies can pick and choose the areas (counties) they want to cover?  They don't have to offer gap insurance to everyone?  If I were 65 I'd have plans available.  Since I am not there is only one plan for people under 65 on disability, and they don't cover my area.  Medicaid is out because they said I am $200 over their cap on qualifying.  So now I have the 20% to cover that Medicare doesn't.  Grateful they cover 80% of the doctor's and hospital, but, yeah, I'm tired of worrying about that.

I am so tired of needles and blood draws, and reading then rereading the reports.

I am tired of feeling like if I show any weakness people will think less of me.  I am tired of feeling like I whine.

My daughter Jasmine, my dog Sasha, me, my dog Bailey

I am tired of the isolation.  I feel alone.  The days are all filled with the same thing.  I try to motivate, but it is really hard some days.  Yes, there are days I just go back to bed.  There are some days that I don't want to get up, but my dogs remind me that they are my responsibility and I have to take care of them because they love me.

Don't get me wrong, I don't wallow in pity.  I am working on socializing more.  I volunteer twice a week at Mary Washington.  One day for three hours we sew cough pillows for patients.  And the other day I volunteer I work in the Gift Shop.  I also go to "Meet up" things, there is a group of single people 50 and over that meet up and I try to go once a month.  I need to make more friends locally to have coffee with and talk to.  Like I said, I am working on it.

I am so tired of feeling like I am in white water rapids being rushed down the river with no hope.

How do I do it?  I don't know.  I journal.  Everyday.  Even if all I do is write down that I feel like crap.  I try to write something down every day to get it out.

I write this blog, yes, I don't write often, and it may not get read much, but with it I am trying to show my inner feelings and frustrations, so it is an outlet.  I actually end up feeling better by the time it is published.

How do I do it?  In my heart I know that my family and friends are there.

An update on the Lowe's job.  I emailed my supervisor about my concerns when it came to the customer service, and my inability to lift the 5 gallon buckets, and my limit to 15 hours a week.  Along with the concern of being scheduled three 8 hour days in a row.  (Down stocking and fronting on a four hour shift exhausted me, and I was honest with them in the interview I am not in shape, and I need to work on stamina).  After not hearing any response for five days, I figured that maybe I should work on getting in better shape before I try working there.  So I resigned.  I really didn't feel comfortable my concerns were not address.

I haven't given up looking for a part time job either.  There is something out there that can help me financially, physically and yes, mentally.

Thanks for reading this, I am in a better head space now.  Time to go have some breakfast and vacuum.

Trepidation

Trepidation

noun

tremulous fear, alarm, or agitation; perturbation.

nervousness, dismay, consternation, fright, apprehension, disquiet, excitement, jitters, uneasiness, dread, terror, panic, horror, emotion, perturbation, agitation, shock, palpitation.

Yes, that pretty much sums up the emotions I have been feeling of late.  There is a two-fold reason for it too.

Well, the first one is obvious.  The whole no Medicare Gap coverage for people under 65 that are a hair above the poverty level.  And the whole Part D drug coverage thing.  I mean a co-pay of $3250 for my chemo every month is a bit rich for my blood.  That is a bit rich for anyones’ blood.  Thank God that the drug portion is resolved for the moment.  (Yes, I still have that feeling that something was misunderstood and I will end up with a surprise bill.)

Two weeks ago, a Monday and Wednesday were training.  Job training.  I have been putting in applications to everyone within a short drive of my home.  (There are two shopping centers.) Target called, and would not hire me because I could not work two days a week.  I figure that would give me two days for any tests, doctors’ appointments, and down time in between working.

Lowe’s called.  I got a hired for a part time job in Paint.  I cannot work over 15 hours a week or I lose disability and Medicare – hey 80% of doctor’s visits and hospital stays are better than zero.  I need to find a way to save money for the car and other expenses.  Like covering the 20% cost on doctors’ visits.

They do have health insurance for Part time employees, but it is a wellness plan with no hospitalization.  The cost of the plan per year is not worth it, it only covers wellness visits, besides the $40 a month can cover part of the cost of the monthly oncologist visit.  They also offer vision.  I need to get my glasses changed.  Glasses and exams are not cheap either.  So, vision insurance for the win.

Since then I have put in two four-hour shifts.  To say I have been apprehensive is putting it mildly.  I mean I fall short of full-blown panic attacks.

I was honest when I interviewed them.  I have cancer, I am out of shape.  I can lift 25 pounds but do not expect me to be fast.  I can do things but I am slower than a person that has two good legs and two good lungs.  I had originally applied for Lawn and Garden.  But they offered me Paint. 

I would have so failed Lawn and Garden.  I do not know what I was thinking.  Yes, I do.  I wan thinking that the extra money would help.  But being out in the cold and constantly hauling heavy items.  I guess I was thinking more of taking care of plants than the back-breaking work they really do in Lawn and Garden.

Wednesday, was orientation and computer training.  I was a bit uneasy about going.  Not bad, but I was edgy.  I survived.The following Friday was another day of training, but I was so worked up about going I almost did not.  I knew it was finishing the computer training, not being out on the floor.

It did not matter it was computer training.  I kept thinking about when I get out onto the floor.  There will be more exposure to people.  More of a chance to make mistakes.  I can carry a gallon of paint.  The 3.5 gallon is a bit difficult but I can slowly carry it.  I cannot budge the five-gallon buckets.  But I did tell them I was out of shape.  I was on chemo.

My first day on the floor I was in full blown freak out.  But I survived.  And I survived the

second day too.  But I came away with a few concerns about the job and my physical ability at present time.  So, I let them know my concerns, and am waiting for a response.

When they first offered the Paint job, I thought, “Oh, I can handle that I worked in Paint at Home Depot in the early 2000’s.”  At that time, I was running the shelter, hauling 40 lb. bags of wood stove pellets, walking up and down stairs and ladders.  It was before the cancer in 2003.  It was when I had two good lungs.  When I did not have an occlusion on the Vena Cava or tumors in the lymph nodes along the trachea.  One of the things that started me worrying was the “How to Lift Properly” training.  I cannot lift things like that.  I have no left hamstring.  If I squat down, I need one hand to balance to get up.

They need someone who can perform.  I do not want to disappoint people who put faith in me.  I do not want to disappoint myself.  I do not want to disappoint anyone.

But I cannot guarantee it will work out the way I want it to and that causes trepidation.  (Doesn’t that sound like a made-up word?)

I know all I can do is try my hardest to succeed.  I do not want to fail.  Failing sucks eggs in a closet.  I do not like the idea of failing.

This is so out of my comfort zone it is not funny. 

I would rather jump out of another airplane.

Lessons I learned - So You WON'T Have To

I must freely admit, this time I screwed up.  BIG TIME.  I took answers I got at face value, if there were any other pertinent information, the person I was speaking with would tell me.  Or so I assumed.

Part of the problem I am dealing with right now is my own damn fault because I got lazy and did not ask the questions I should have and advocated harder for myself.

It all has to do with Part D of Medicare, the drug part.  You must get a separate insurance policy to cover drugs.  Well, I got a letter that said I qualified for a policy at no cost.  After reading the letter, I am thinking to myself, well, let me make an appointment with the insurance councilor with the Department on Aging and ask a couple questions.  I was going to make sure my drugs were covered.

Four Tablets for breakfast every day.

The appointment day showed up, I go and bring all the papers I got saying the same thing.  I did not have to do anything, I qualified for this drug coverage.  I shared my concern about my drugs being covered.  She looked up the Votrient, Zofran and Compazine.  All were covered.

The relief I felt was palatable.  I felt as if a huge weight was lifted from my shoulders.  I could have danced.  I was so relieved that all the other questions I had intended to ask flew out of my mind.  Hence one of the lessons.

One of my two best friends

I had wrongly assumed if there were a deductible or co pay she would tell me since she was looking at the policy information.  I was wrong.  I should have asked. 

A week ago, Monday, I got a bug in my head and called the insurance company since I finally got the insurance card with policy number and contact information. 

I knew I was in trouble when I got a busy call center.  There was all kinds of background noise, and the line kept cutting out.

She kept trying to give me information I was not asking for.  I finally told her to stop.  I wanted to know if my prescription drugs and chemo drug were covered.  Please answer the questions as I ask them.

Votrient, yes.  Zofran – only the generic, but it must be preauthorized. 

My second best friend.

Anti-nausea medication, the generic form needs preauthorized.  So, I get the phone number the doctor is going to have to call to get it done.  (The chemo drug does not need preauthorized).  Compozine, generic covered, no preauthorization.

Now I ask, are there co pays?  She says, yes, but the co pay kicks in after the deductible was met.  Me: “Deductible?  What deductible?”  Who ever heard of a deductible on a drug plan? 

Her reply “$415.00.  I sigh then ask ok, what are the co pays after the deductible is met.  (I am thinking, ok I can meet that with a couple of the Zofran prescriptions, that stuff is not cheap.)

She starts with the co-pay amounts, since the Zofran is tier 2, $3.00, the Compazine is tier 2 so $3.00.  I am thinking so far so good.  Then she says the Votrient (my chemotherapy drug) is tier 5, so it is 25 (at this point I was thinking $25.00 during her pause.  I could live with that) then she says percent.  I choke.  I repeated back 25%??  That is $3250.00!!!  And only if the pharmacy you work with charges the same amount as the one, I am dealing with now.  The cost for this chemo is $13,000.00 a month.  (Trust me it is cheaper than some of the other chemo I have been on over the years).

So right now, I have applied to the manufacture for grant money to help cover the copay on the chemo.  And I am scrambling to find other means to cover by applying to foundations.  One told me they could not help me because they do not have funds to help people with my kind of cancer.  Another said they were a last-ditch foundation, and once I am turned down from the others, they may be able to help.

Now this is what I want you to learn from my mistakes:

1. You are your own advocate.  Do not assume that just because a person deals with things regularly they will give you all the information you need.
2. Sit down before you talk to whoever, and think about the information you need.  Write those questions down.  Bring them with you.  Get others to suggest questions.
3. If they start going down a side topic, bring them back to the question you asked.  And tell them to answer that question first, then the next question.
4. If you do not understand what they are telling you say that.  Just say, wait I do not understand.  Make them explain it to you.
5. There is no such thing as a dumb question (especially when it comes to health care and insurance)
6. This is so important it needs listed twice:  DO NOT ASSUME THAT YOU WILL GET ALL THE INFORMATION YOU NEED EVEN WHEN DEALING WITH “EXPERTS.”  YOU NEED TO ASK QUESTIONS.

Now that I learned to ask more questions, I hope you have too.