When Surviving Feels Like Failing (AKA Insurance Sucks)

Can I just express that it is HARD to be a survivor of cancer? I beat this awful, horrendous thing but, like in any fight, it threw some good punches too. So even though I came out of the ring, I still got a black eye and a fat lip. Relating this to cancer, I left that hospital after 33 rounds of radiation and 4 extensive rounds of chemo with leg braces, a walker, and a slew of other things, but I was still LEAVING. I won, right? I had physical therapy and was able to ditch the walker and leg braces. I had occupational and speech therapy to allow me to be more independent. I got back my appetite and eventually gained 40 pounds back. I had facial surgeries to counteract the effects of my facial paralysis. I graduated from high school and college. I'd come a long way.

Meanwhile, other parts of my body had been huffin' and puffin' along after taking quite the beating from the radiation and chemo and after almost ten long years of working hard, [*THE REST OF THIS PARAGRAPH IS PURE SPECULATION*]the lungs could not continue working at normal capacity. So one shriveled up halfway and the other became overworked and thus strained. Then the brain, noticing that the air wasn't moving as efficiently decides it needs the heart to beat and bring blood to it to keep it all functioning well. So the heart starts beating faster because the more it beats, the more the lungs work, right? But the lungs are working as hard as they can when I'm moving about because muscles and other things need oxygen when I'm moving around so the heart starts beating like crazy trying to get oxygen and the brain is suffering from want of oxygen and then just tells the muscles to calm themselves so the body returns to homeostasis and the brain can glut itself on oxygen again.

Thus, I have a problem. I've seen many doctors over a series of months and NO ONE can definitively tell me why this is occurring or how it is occurring. More importantly, no one can tell me how to fix it. Therefore, I have a bunch of doctors giving diagnoses and prescribing a series of things. But now we have stumbled upon problem 2: insurance.

I am fortunate enough to be on my parents' insurance. I am also fortunate in that my mother does not have a career otherwise she would not have been able to fight insurance on my behalf at every turn and on every side. No success story is complete without the underlying details of a hero's success, right? So, as I was saying, doctors were prescribing stuff. the pulmonologist was almost taking shots in the dark, prescribing everything under the sun to get more answers. (Probably because he won't have to pay for any of it.) The first thing he prescribed was a concentrator which ended up being really useful because after MONTHS  of delayed appointments and waiting I was admitted to the hospital. The hospital performed the same tests I had waited months to have within hours of each other and then after a week of performing tests and observing discharged me with a diagnosis of both acute and chronic respiratory failure and prescribed me being on oxygen 24/7. This is where the concentrator comes in handy.

As we all value freedom and quality of life, my parents and I do not want me confined to the walls of my home, we have been working for over two weeks now to get me a Portable Oxygen Concentrator (POC). This will allow me to return to work (where I haven't been for about a month), and attend church for the full time with an hour's drive each way. I'd be able to drive on my own again! I want to be able to leave my home without having to worry about running out of pressurized air in a tank and therefore, I need a POC.

Back to problem 2; Getting insurance to pay for ANYTHING is like playing keep-away mixed with telephone and "whose got the penny"; You ask one doctor for a prescription and they say they sent it to the pharmacy. The pharmacy says insurance denied it. Insurance says it needs prior authorization from the doctor. The doctor authorizes it. The pharmacy says it's denied. Insurance says it's coded incorrectly. Etc. This leaves me on the phone most of the day, unable to leave my home because Jimmy doesn't want to play with Tommy and they won't dare talk to Pam. WHY?! Sure, insurance only wants to take our dollars and never give their own but the reason I have you is to contribute money to keep me alive. Is that too much to ask?!

In closing, surviving cancer is great. Not receiving radiation and chemo is great. Not being in a hospital is great. But having to be in a hospital because of how I got out of the hospital last time? Not so great.