MRI + Dr. Scranton + Miracle on 22nd Place

 

After a week of trying to right a wrong with my insurance company to get back on track with my treatment plans, it was off to Lubbock to boot the (hopefully) small tumor out of my brain.  

I'm so grateful for people who have saved me by driving me to appointments (along with too much service to mention) over the last nine years.

One of those top givers in my journey is my Auntie Deb.  I'm so glad she was able to be with me for the day.  

First, it was time to gown up and prep for an updated MRI.  The machine in Lubbock is more advanced than the one in Hobbs, and the doctors wanted to have as accurate of pictures before gamma knife radiation.  

con

The tech working with me seemed to not be in the best mood.  He had little interest in my stories of PTSD with IVs.  Convince in his superpowers, he forged ahead with the needle--no numbing meds, no attempt to inquire about someone to access my port--A POWER PORT, I might add.  I warmed about my veins that seem fine, but ALWAYS roll and blow.  He brushed off my concerns, sweaty palms, and stated discomfort, and forged ahead through scar tissue from my college days plasma donation scar into the unknown with little to no care for me.  He jabbed and tunneled and caused bruising and frustration before finally making it to the correct place,  I was not thankful for that.  However, that part of the day was soon over.  

Then, it was time to wait for results and to meet Dr. Scanrton, the neurosurgeon.   

I felt a bit guilty for my frustration and impatience with Dr. Scranton, thinking him unnecessary to my health plan team.  He was very kind and thorough.  He seemed to genuinely care about my life and health and well being. He reported that my lab work looked good.  He asked necessary questions about my health history.  Finally, he pulled up the current scan results.  

After reviewing them for a few moments, he expressed his overall feelings about my desire to fit into the schedule for treatment later in the day.  "I do NOT recommend gamma knife radiation for today."  I could feel my frustrations beginning to bubble over.  "WHAT?!?  Why not????"  

"I don't think you should have it done today because I do not receded brain radiation AT ALL for now.  The tumor recognized from February 2nd is not seen in today's scans.  The previous areas of concern have all revered themselves.  Both the radiologist and myself are of the opinion that there are no tumors in you brain at this time."  

My head and heart and soul immediately stopped trying to bubble over in frustration and thanked God for another miraculous moment.  

I do not pretend to know how to read or explain any of these scans, and I did not take notes.  All I know is that today's scans were carefully reviews and compared with the most recent three from the past years.  Yes, currently my brain shows some signs of scarring from past radiation, but today there is no cancer there.  

 How blessed I continue to be. Yet, I continue to be shown that I still need to grow. 

With struggles and frustrated in things that were beyond my control, I was reminded that nothing is beyond the control of the Lord.  If I would humble myself and trust in His power, I could avoid some much of the anguish in this battle.  

Enhertu#16 + Steroids + A Rough Week

 

It's chemo time, again!  Three weeks can zoom by.  This time around, it's been rough.  I've been fighting to figure out insurance.  In order to avoid paying more out-of-pocket deductibles than necessary with this work-related move, we decided that it would be better to do Cobra insurance this year.  The math made sense.  What didn't quite add up was the understanding that all the insurance that we' ve paid wasn't being counted somehow, and our policy had been disconnected.  Hours on the phone and on hold, looking for answers and trying to translate English spoken in dialects that are difficult to understand, no answers in sight were worrisome.  I was unsure if my appointments that I'd been waiting for for nearly two months would be able to happen.  I was worried and exhausted from all the time with no progress.  

Finally, last Friday, we made a discovery. The person whose job it is to put the insurance money from the company into the insurance company realized she had made a big mistake: send our Cobra money in with the other money, where it got lost in a deep pool of nothingness.  She was able to call and straighten out the knots.  She even had a new number to call and a reinstatement number for reference!  However, this would not go into action for at least two business days.  

Fast-forward two business days.  I had my #16 dose of Enhertu.  The nurses were concerned about what I would need to pay out-of-pocket to cover this treatment without any insurance.  I was feeling helpless, as the concept of me having insurance was true, but it just couldn't be shown online.  I technically had insurance, and this should not even be an issue, but I was at the mercy of the insurance company to make the necessary changes to make it all right.  

I got into action when the next step was possibly canceling the long-awaited appointments.  I've been waiting around for almost 2 months to get these tumors shot out of my brain before they grow too large for that treatment to work! 

Luckily, I was able to get a customer service rep. with a heart.  When there was no other solution, I plead my case, telling her that my cancer has always been aggressive.  I've already given this beast too much time to grow without treatment.  I'm supposed to have radiation that will knock it out, but that just might be cacncereled, due to a mistake that had been made by someone else.  We are paid up and on time.  However, it looks like the opposite.  I plead with this woman and begged her to help.  I didn't want to have fought cancer so hard for over nine years, only to die because insurance was denying me.  

That set image her on a mission.   She sent an URGENT message to a higher-up and assured me that this would be handled by the end of the work day.  It was hard to believe after all the time I'd already spent, but I moved forward, believing her.  (My health care team was on board, even prepping my brain for the next days with some pre-meds of steroids, etc.)

After treatment, I went home to pack an overnight bag, still hoping the next day's plans would happen.  My aunt met at my house to travel to the appointment.  Before we had the car packed, my phone rang with good news:  The insurance had officially been reinstated!  

That was the good news I needed to head on our way, get something to eat, and rest up before the early morning of another treatment day.  

Somedays I wonder why all the little pieces have to be so difficult.  Fighting cancer-period-is hard enough!  You would think that these hiccups could ease up and work together, instead of causing me unwanted anxiety and a huge waste of time.  However, without the struggle, the success would not feel quite as sweet! 

Enhertu #15 + Zometa + Baby Steps to Treatment

 

Here we are, already in March.  I'm hoping for a lot of luck to head my way.  Here's to the Gingers of the Irish + the good fortune of the green and gold.    

First bit of luck: lunch of green Chile enchiladas. Although it was not Irish, this dish brought in a New Mexican hint of great hopefulness.  

After having been kicked out of MyChart, my health app, after working on getting set up for hours at the last chemo appointment, my low points of frustration and sarcasm were fighting to take over and knock out the hope and joy.  I couldn't get any messages in or out to my providers, other than through phone calls.  The schedules of those calls never seem to work out, especially when I'm working with health care locations in two different time zones.  In addition, trying to transfer all the paperwork from my past appointments of gamma knife radiation in Dallas/finding times between my regularly scheduled chemo/making trips to Lubbock to meet with a neurosurgeon/another MRI/and then FINALLY making the actual radiation treatment appointment were all gumming up the machine.  

Today is exactly ONE MONTH since diagnosis with these new brain tumors, and we've only made baby steps in the process.  I have 2 out of the 3 major steps set up, but they won't happen until THE END of THIS month, after having to shuffle around schedules between the two locations.  All this waiting, and the main treatment that will zap out the beast is still on the wait list.  I'm getting a little anxious because I know my own history with aggressive growth in cancers' past. I can't help but think about the very beginning of the journey when I waited a month between mammogram and treatment and my oncologist at the time told me that she was concerned that the tumor in my breast doubled in size during that time.  I really don't want this time to be like that.  I just want to get it all to work and at an efficient timeframe 

Why does this have to always seem so difficult? 

Here is where I really have to have faith in prayer and happy thoughts that all the moving pieces will somehow make me whole....Again.....In time for my planned beach trip next month.  Maybe with enough luck and love and grace in the waiting place, these pieces of the puzzle will all end up fitting exactly in the perfect place and time.

Here's to hope and faith and a little bit of luck, I'll continue to BTHOC.

Don't worry.  As long as all the pieces will just come together and the baby steps will get a little bigger and faster, so I will be able to get to all the appointments at precisely the right times, and stay completely still so the gamma knife radiation will strike at the precise locations.......everything will be fine.*     

  

*Bonus points to those who can connect that last statement with one of my all-time favorite movies.