So, our world has been a bit busy lately- so I apologize as I failed to share some WONDERFUL news with everyone.
During Dad's last appointment, Dr. Fleener discussed following up with other radiologists to determine what they thought this small "enhancement" could be- since it had not changed since our last MRI.
And Tuesday Mom received a call from Dr. Fleener with information on their conclusion:
They concluded that there is no cancer growth going on.
Oh how thrilled we are to hear that news!
Dad just finished another round of chemotherapy, and will continue with another round of Avastin in a week. We will discuss another MRI at our next appointment with Dr. Fleener, but until then, we are taking it all just one day at a time.
I can't say enough wonderful things about Dr. Fleener, the staff, and nurses at the Cancer Clinic in Bryan. We have such an amazing relationship with each of them, and having Dr. Fleener personally call Mom helped to reiterate just that.
Not to mention, the relationship I've made with the ladies in the business office- they have been absolute lifesavers as I've tried to understand the world of insurance. I received a call from one of the ladies to let me know that two claims I've been fighting were now approved and processed- let's just say, I've been more than happy to receive calls from the Cancer Clinic this week.
So if there is one thing I've learned throughout Dad's cancer battle- it's to never give up (and I've learned this in more than one way!)
Dad's pure fight and determination is so obvious in his day to day life- as just the other day he wanted to mow the grass, something he just hasn't felt like doing for so long! He continues to prove the statistics wrong, he continues to fight through the pain of his treatments and he continues to never give up.
And I've learned to never give up when it comes to fighting insurance companies and hospitals. As just yesterday I was on the phone with one hospital and two separate insurance companies.
It's amazing how quickly you get what you want when the insurance company realizes that the paperwork completed by your dad, which gave the insurance company the ability to speak with you legally, expired 9 months ago and they've talked to you numerous times since then. You just throw out "HIPAA violation", and that pretty much takes care of any issues.
I've fought two hospitals and three different insurance companies- and they all work the same- they push you away until they think you will give up. Unfortunately for them, I've learned from the best on never giving up, and I plan to continue fighting for my parents throughout this process. I never want Dad's fight to be a huge financial burden for my parents, and if it means fighting for each dollar they are billed, that's exactly what I will continue to do.
We are so incredibly proud of Dad, and we are so incredibly proud of our friends and family. Each person has stepped up in one way or another- we've been overwhelmed with love and support, thoughts and prayers, and the continuous push to make it through some of our more difficult days. There is no way we could have survived these last (almost 32 months!) without our friends and family.
We continue on this fight, as Dad has beat all of the statistics we were given that grim day at our Neurosurgeon's office- with treatment less than 2 years, without treatment less than a year. He continues to BEAT this disease just one day at a time- he continues to inspire me each day.
Some days are good, some days are difficult, but each day with Dad present and able to join us in just the little things makes each day great. We all struggle with Dad's post-cancer life- and I think Dad struggles the most- but we continue to remind him how STRONG he is, how FAITHFUL he continues to be, and how PROUD we are each day of his fight.
Thank you all for the continued thoughts and prayers- as we've seen the power of prayer work wonders in our lives- and thank you all for helping us BTHO Brain Cancer!
Thursday, May 26, 2016
Friday, May 20, 2016
What I Learned From Knee Surgery...& Dad Update 5/20/2016
Wednesday morning I had knee surgery. A surgery I've been putting off for about a month now. And honestly all day Wednesday, and most of yesterday, I sat looking at my knee, then looking at my crutches, wondering- why does this hurt if the laparoscopic incisions are so very small and why does this hurt more than BEFORE surgery?
Needless to say, it's day three and it feels much better already.
But I learned something- something that I thought I already knew, but now have an even greater appreciation for- my Mom is an absolute rock star.
You don't realize how much help you will truly need when you are faced with walking only with crutches- for example, how do I fill up a cup of water from the kitchen and bring it to the living room? Mom.
Or, how do I make dinner and sit down at the table to eat? Mom.
The examples go on and on.
I can't even begin to describe what an incredible caregiver she has been to Dad throughout his battle- she's compassionate, caring, and patient. She gives her love and her time without ever asking for anything in return. And she goes above and beyond to make life comfortable.
She's a rock star.
And Dad. Well, Dad is not far behind on this "rock star" status, as he's been home with me since Wednesday. He fills up water cups for me while Mom is at work, helps me make my plate for lunch, and checks on me constantly throughout the day.
They are both such a great team- they balance each other and bring out the absolute best in one another.
And Mom does this all while working full time. And Dad does this all while on chemotherapy this week.
Rock Stars.
Dad's chemotherapy seems to be a LITTLE bit better this week- and we aren't sure if it's due to the good MRI we received this week, Dad B-12 shots we started on, or the fact that he is so very distracted with my recovery- but regardless, it's been a good week for Dad. We are so very thankful!
It was wonderful to be able to go into surgery knowing that Dad's MRI was in fact stable, that it showed no changes and we could keep going on our current treatment course- talk about a decrease in stress and anxiety for me!
31.5 months post diagnosis is so very rare- as those who make it 3 years with Glioblastoma are considered "long term" survivors. We do not take these 31.5 months with Dad lightly- we take these months and praise God for the time we've been given- the QUALITY time we've been given. And we take these 31.5 months and think back to the countless friends and family who have encouraged us, prayed for us, and supported us throughout it all.
From phone calls, text messages, meals, snacks (LOTS of snacks!), and flowers being send my way- I can honestly say that I have the best friends and family anyone could ask for.
Maybe it takes something like a little knee surgery to really see first hand the type of caregiver Mom is to Dad, but I'm so glad that I get to see first hand what Dad sees in Mom- a compassionate, caring and absolute wonderful person who does so much for others, and expects very little in return.
Asking for continued prayers as Dad continues to fight through this week with determination and faith. Thank you all for supporting us on this journey, and thank you for helping us BTHO Brain Cancer!
Needless to say, it's day three and it feels much better already.
But I learned something- something that I thought I already knew, but now have an even greater appreciation for- my Mom is an absolute rock star.
You don't realize how much help you will truly need when you are faced with walking only with crutches- for example, how do I fill up a cup of water from the kitchen and bring it to the living room? Mom.
Or, how do I make dinner and sit down at the table to eat? Mom.
The examples go on and on.
I can't even begin to describe what an incredible caregiver she has been to Dad throughout his battle- she's compassionate, caring, and patient. She gives her love and her time without ever asking for anything in return. And she goes above and beyond to make life comfortable.
She's a rock star.
And Dad. Well, Dad is not far behind on this "rock star" status, as he's been home with me since Wednesday. He fills up water cups for me while Mom is at work, helps me make my plate for lunch, and checks on me constantly throughout the day.
They are both such a great team- they balance each other and bring out the absolute best in one another.
And Mom does this all while working full time. And Dad does this all while on chemotherapy this week.
Rock Stars.
Dad's chemotherapy seems to be a LITTLE bit better this week- and we aren't sure if it's due to the good MRI we received this week, Dad B-12 shots we started on, or the fact that he is so very distracted with my recovery- but regardless, it's been a good week for Dad. We are so very thankful!
It was wonderful to be able to go into surgery knowing that Dad's MRI was in fact stable, that it showed no changes and we could keep going on our current treatment course- talk about a decrease in stress and anxiety for me!
31.5 months post diagnosis is so very rare- as those who make it 3 years with Glioblastoma are considered "long term" survivors. We do not take these 31.5 months with Dad lightly- we take these months and praise God for the time we've been given- the QUALITY time we've been given. And we take these 31.5 months and think back to the countless friends and family who have encouraged us, prayed for us, and supported us throughout it all.
From phone calls, text messages, meals, snacks (LOTS of snacks!), and flowers being send my way- I can honestly say that I have the best friends and family anyone could ask for.
Maybe it takes something like a little knee surgery to really see first hand the type of caregiver Mom is to Dad, but I'm so glad that I get to see first hand what Dad sees in Mom- a compassionate, caring and absolute wonderful person who does so much for others, and expects very little in return.
Asking for continued prayers as Dad continues to fight through this week with determination and faith. Thank you all for supporting us on this journey, and thank you for helping us BTHO Brain Cancer!
Tuesday, May 17, 2016
Loud and Clear. Part II. Dad Update 5/17/2016
In my last post I talked about how God has been speaking to me loud and clear recently, and when I pulled out my devotional this morning, I could help but just laugh. Yes God, I get it- you're coming in loud and clear.
I would be lying if I said that MRI days get easier, that we are in a routine when it comes to receiving these results- but that is far from the truth. Each time is more and more stressful, as we are now 31.5 months post diagnosis.
We were given 14 months after Dad's tumor was found. We've more than surpassed what was expected- and that has a lot to do with the power of prayer! And our attitude of HOPE, instead of hopelessness, has had a lot to do with all of these "loud and clear" moments...like the one this morning.
"As you sit quietly in My presence, remember that I am a God of abundance. I will never run out of resources; My capacity to bless you is unlimited...living by faith, not by sight."
By all scientific statistics, Dad's tumor should have returned, and it should have returned with vengeance. Aggressive is a good way to describe Dad's cancer- and when you google Glioblastoma, you'll commonly see "most aggressive cancer that begins in the brain..."
By all scientific statistics, Dad should have been faced with the tumor returning...but sometimes there are things that science just can't explain- and in those moments it would be foolish to not believe in a much higher power controlling each and every step.
Dad's MRI today showed no changes from the last MRI- which means, no tumor growth! We are thrilled! The MRI still shows the small enhancement, although if this was TRUE tumor growth, the MRI would have shown a mass, as Dad's type of tumor can double in size every 2 weeks. The MRI did not show a mass, just that small area of enhancement.
Dr. Fleener is not sure what exactly that small area of enhancement could be- possibly some blood flow to the area where the tumor was removed- we are unsure. But what we do know, is that it is currently not a mass of any type, and that is what we are taking from this MRI.
We would be unrealistic if we didn't constantly think about the "what if" and the future of Dad's cancer treatment, as this is a type of tumor that is known for the question "When will the tumor return?" Because, statistically, almost 100% of these return.
But we would be unrealistic if we didn't send our praises, thanksgiving and pure joy to friends and family during this time- as you've all once again proven the true power of prayer. We asked for prayers- heck I feel like I've been begging for them!- and you've each poured prayers our way since day 1. And for that, we will forever be so thankful.
Dad received another round of Avastin today, and started another round of chemotherapy last night. These weeks are tough, but I know Dad is tougher.
With all the news and buzz surrounding Glioblastoma and the new treatment option out of Duke University receiving such BIG news- we can't help but be so thankful for the HOPE treatments and news coverage about Dad's disease continue to give families like ours and patients like Dad.
This morning when I got up, and surrounding me were thoughts of concern, confusion, and doubt in this journey, I repeated the words of my aunt- "We will deal with whatever it is." Pretty simple advice, but so incredibly true.
We can't plan the cards we are dealt, we can't determine what will or will not happen in our day to day activities, but what we can do is sit quietly in His presence, remembering that he is a God of abundance, and never will He run out of resources.
This weekend we helped celebrate my cousin's wedding. We each take these moments of celebration that Dad attends as the little things in life that mean so incredibly much. We have been so blessed these last 31.5 months, and we continue to pray that it is God's plan for many more months to come.
I would be lying if I said that MRI days get easier, that we are in a routine when it comes to receiving these results- but that is far from the truth. Each time is more and more stressful, as we are now 31.5 months post diagnosis.
We were given 14 months after Dad's tumor was found. We've more than surpassed what was expected- and that has a lot to do with the power of prayer! And our attitude of HOPE, instead of hopelessness, has had a lot to do with all of these "loud and clear" moments...like the one this morning.
"As you sit quietly in My presence, remember that I am a God of abundance. I will never run out of resources; My capacity to bless you is unlimited...living by faith, not by sight."
By all scientific statistics, Dad's tumor should have returned, and it should have returned with vengeance. Aggressive is a good way to describe Dad's cancer- and when you google Glioblastoma, you'll commonly see "most aggressive cancer that begins in the brain..."
By all scientific statistics, Dad should have been faced with the tumor returning...but sometimes there are things that science just can't explain- and in those moments it would be foolish to not believe in a much higher power controlling each and every step.
Dad's MRI today showed no changes from the last MRI- which means, no tumor growth! We are thrilled! The MRI still shows the small enhancement, although if this was TRUE tumor growth, the MRI would have shown a mass, as Dad's type of tumor can double in size every 2 weeks. The MRI did not show a mass, just that small area of enhancement.
Dr. Fleener is not sure what exactly that small area of enhancement could be- possibly some blood flow to the area where the tumor was removed- we are unsure. But what we do know, is that it is currently not a mass of any type, and that is what we are taking from this MRI.
We would be unrealistic if we didn't constantly think about the "what if" and the future of Dad's cancer treatment, as this is a type of tumor that is known for the question "When will the tumor return?" Because, statistically, almost 100% of these return.
But we would be unrealistic if we didn't send our praises, thanksgiving and pure joy to friends and family during this time- as you've all once again proven the true power of prayer. We asked for prayers- heck I feel like I've been begging for them!- and you've each poured prayers our way since day 1. And for that, we will forever be so thankful.
Dad received another round of Avastin today, and started another round of chemotherapy last night. These weeks are tough, but I know Dad is tougher.
With all the news and buzz surrounding Glioblastoma and the new treatment option out of Duke University receiving such BIG news- we can't help but be so thankful for the HOPE treatments and news coverage about Dad's disease continue to give families like ours and patients like Dad.
This morning when I got up, and surrounding me were thoughts of concern, confusion, and doubt in this journey, I repeated the words of my aunt- "We will deal with whatever it is." Pretty simple advice, but so incredibly true.
We can't plan the cards we are dealt, we can't determine what will or will not happen in our day to day activities, but what we can do is sit quietly in His presence, remembering that he is a God of abundance, and never will He run out of resources.
This weekend we helped celebrate my cousin's wedding. We each take these moments of celebration that Dad attends as the little things in life that mean so incredibly much. We have been so blessed these last 31.5 months, and we continue to pray that it is God's plan for many more months to come.
Thank you all for the continued thoughts and prayers, and thank you for helping us BTHO Brain Cancer!
Friday, May 13, 2016
Loud and Clear. Dad Update 5/13/2016
Some days I want to just yell, "Yes God I get it, I'm hearing you LOUD and CLEAR." And this week, I've experienced that moment more than once.
On Tuesday, I opened my devotional to read- "Thank Me for your problems." Apparently, God was doing a little foreshadowing, because the day ahead was one filled with many problems, and unfortunately, some tears.
I received a call Tuesday from Dad's doctor's office stating that Humana did not want to approve the MRI next week because it was too close to the last MRI, and instead schedule it in June. I'm not exactly sure at what point insurance companies became more knowledgeable than an Oncologist, but apparently that is the world we are living in. Many times involving the patient in these issues can make the approval process go much faster, and must smoother- and since I've experienced one, two, maybe 50 phone calls with insurance companies, Dad's doctor knows that I am more than willing to help with the process.
Let's just say, 30 minutes later, a customer service representative from Humana yelling at me "hold on, hold on, hold on...", the MRI was approved.
"Thank Me for your problems."
"Thank Me for your problems."
I repeated that sentence over and over again on Tuesday, as the day continued with more phone calls with insurance companies (along with writing one formal complaint and one appeal), and then a lot of adult like things that I had to take care of for myself- new tires, payment for knee surgery...
Let's just say, after the second call with insurance, and as tears streamed down my face with pure frustration at the entire insurance process, all I could think about was "Thank Me for your problems."
God, I'm really trying.
And as a couple of days have passed since that awful Tuesday, I opened my devotional today to read: "Be on the lookout for what I am doing in your life. Worship Me by living close to Me, thanking Me in all circumstances."
I hear you loud and clear.
I would be lying if I said I wasn't thinking ahead to Dad's next MRI, wondering what it will show and thinking of our next steps, if in fact the cancer has returned- add on the stress of insurance companies and I'm sure my blood pressure is at some extreme level.
Not to mention, my outlet throughout Dad's diagnosis has been running- as I've joked many times that it has "saved" me these last 2 years, and a few weeks ago I found out that I have significantly torn my meniscus while training for a half marathon. I was sad, disappointed, and (for lack of a better word) just bummed. But I'm trying to remember, "Thank Me for your problems."
I'll be having knee surgery next week, following Dad's MRI results, and I struggle with if that is the right time for the surgery- because IF the MRI is not good, will we need to see a new doctor right away? Will Dad start a new treatment following the MRI? What if...? What if...? What if...?
Honestly, it all drives me crazy.
"Thank Me for your problems."
And with my mind going in all directions, concerned about it all, I remind myself of one of my favorite devotionals, and make myself read it over and over again this morning.
"Follow Me one step at a time. That is all I require of you...You see huge mountains looming, and you start wondering how you're going to scale those heights...But you don't know what will happen today, much less tomorrow...If I do lead you up the cliffs, I will equip you thoroughly for that strenuous climb...Walk by faith, not my sight..."
Y'all, I'm really trying to follow that and be reminded to be THANKFUL for my problems. It is helpful that Dad has been feeling better- still tired and worn out, but no new headaches, or increase in blood pressure. Just seeing him up and going more has been such a blessing, and I can't help but think that it's due to so many thinking and praying for him during this journey. We are so HOPEFUL that he is going to BEAT this.
There was also some exciting news out of the brain cancer community yesterday:
http://www.cbsnews.com/videos/bold-cancer-treatment-granted-breakthrough-status/
Last year, CBS featured a story on the polio virus being used to beat Glioblastoma- and now, the FDA has declared this treatment "breakthrough" status and is in the process of fast-tracking the treatment. This gives us even more HOPE.
As the day of Dad's MRI quickly approaches, we are asking more than ever for prayers that the treatments are working for Dad and the MRI appears stable. We are asking for calmness and peace for us during the waiting time, and prayers that IF the tumor has returned, we are able to make the best decision possible for our family.
Thank you all for your continued prayers during this difficult time for us- as we continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!
On Tuesday, I opened my devotional to read- "Thank Me for your problems." Apparently, God was doing a little foreshadowing, because the day ahead was one filled with many problems, and unfortunately, some tears.
I received a call Tuesday from Dad's doctor's office stating that Humana did not want to approve the MRI next week because it was too close to the last MRI, and instead schedule it in June. I'm not exactly sure at what point insurance companies became more knowledgeable than an Oncologist, but apparently that is the world we are living in. Many times involving the patient in these issues can make the approval process go much faster, and must smoother- and since I've experienced one, two, maybe 50 phone calls with insurance companies, Dad's doctor knows that I am more than willing to help with the process.
Let's just say, 30 minutes later, a customer service representative from Humana yelling at me "hold on, hold on, hold on...", the MRI was approved.
"Thank Me for your problems."
"Thank Me for your problems."
I repeated that sentence over and over again on Tuesday, as the day continued with more phone calls with insurance companies (along with writing one formal complaint and one appeal), and then a lot of adult like things that I had to take care of for myself- new tires, payment for knee surgery...
Let's just say, after the second call with insurance, and as tears streamed down my face with pure frustration at the entire insurance process, all I could think about was "Thank Me for your problems."
God, I'm really trying.
And as a couple of days have passed since that awful Tuesday, I opened my devotional today to read: "Be on the lookout for what I am doing in your life. Worship Me by living close to Me, thanking Me in all circumstances."
I hear you loud and clear.
I would be lying if I said I wasn't thinking ahead to Dad's next MRI, wondering what it will show and thinking of our next steps, if in fact the cancer has returned- add on the stress of insurance companies and I'm sure my blood pressure is at some extreme level.
Not to mention, my outlet throughout Dad's diagnosis has been running- as I've joked many times that it has "saved" me these last 2 years, and a few weeks ago I found out that I have significantly torn my meniscus while training for a half marathon. I was sad, disappointed, and (for lack of a better word) just bummed. But I'm trying to remember, "Thank Me for your problems."
I'll be having knee surgery next week, following Dad's MRI results, and I struggle with if that is the right time for the surgery- because IF the MRI is not good, will we need to see a new doctor right away? Will Dad start a new treatment following the MRI? What if...? What if...? What if...?
Honestly, it all drives me crazy.
"Thank Me for your problems."
And with my mind going in all directions, concerned about it all, I remind myself of one of my favorite devotionals, and make myself read it over and over again this morning.
"Follow Me one step at a time. That is all I require of you...You see huge mountains looming, and you start wondering how you're going to scale those heights...But you don't know what will happen today, much less tomorrow...If I do lead you up the cliffs, I will equip you thoroughly for that strenuous climb...Walk by faith, not my sight..."
Y'all, I'm really trying to follow that and be reminded to be THANKFUL for my problems. It is helpful that Dad has been feeling better- still tired and worn out, but no new headaches, or increase in blood pressure. Just seeing him up and going more has been such a blessing, and I can't help but think that it's due to so many thinking and praying for him during this journey. We are so HOPEFUL that he is going to BEAT this.
There was also some exciting news out of the brain cancer community yesterday:
http://www.cbsnews.com/videos/bold-cancer-treatment-granted-breakthrough-status/
Last year, CBS featured a story on the polio virus being used to beat Glioblastoma- and now, the FDA has declared this treatment "breakthrough" status and is in the process of fast-tracking the treatment. This gives us even more HOPE.
As the day of Dad's MRI quickly approaches, we are asking more than ever for prayers that the treatments are working for Dad and the MRI appears stable. We are asking for calmness and peace for us during the waiting time, and prayers that IF the tumor has returned, we are able to make the best decision possible for our family.
Thank you all for your continued prayers during this difficult time for us- as we continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!
Thursday, May 5, 2016
Hitting A Wall. Dad Update 5/5/2016
Yesterday, I felt as though I physically and emotionally hit a wall. You would think that I would be offended when someone says to me, "You look tired." But really, at that point it was all I could do to keep the tears from running down my face. Because I am tired. Emotionally tired. Physically tired. Overall I'm just tired.
It's been a long month. Heck, it's been a long 31 months since Dad's seizure. And some days, and even some weeks, are easier than others. But this last month has been one that has truly pushed me to lean on my faith, family and friends more than ever.
Not only did Dad's last MRI not look great, but lately he's been feeling just not good. I want so badly to take that pain away from him and do whatever I can to make him feel better- but there is honestly nothing I can do. So instead, I have to sit there during appointments and treatments as I hear him say and (very easily see on his face) that he's feeling down right miserable.
And that itself is difficult to handle, and I struggle with reminding myself how LUCKY we are to have 31 months with Dad, and that some people would take our situation in a heart beat to have their loved one here with us. So believe me, I understand how lucky we truly are, but when you add together Dad's MRI, with his overall quality of life right now, and switching to Medicare- you can imagine the emotional and physical stress I'm having.
The insurance world is an absolute nightmare. I'm still struggling to figure out every step, every "pre-approval" required, every document we need to complete, and every hoop I have to jump through just to get the treatments Dad needs covered (for the most part).
I've dealt with Aetna, BlueCross BlueShield, and now...Humana (through a Medicare Supplement Plan). I've experienced headache, after headache with each insurance company- so it leads me to believe that they are truly all the same. I've gone through appeal processes, I've written to the State Board of Insurance, and I've written to CEO's of hospitals. This all takes HOURS of time. I've been on the phone with insurance for over an hour before just for one claim, and I've called a hospital every day for 2 weeks until they paid us back for an over payment.
And yesterday, I stayed on the phone for about 30 minutes questioning why an OLD insurance company had yet to process a claim and wanted us to pay over $1,500 to our doctor. I'm sure I'm on a list somewhere at Aetna, BlueCross BlueShield, probably the College Station Medical Center and (without a doubt) Scott & White- but I assure you that every claim I've questioned, every appeal I've fought- I've won. Some might have taken me over a year, but I jumped through every hoop the insurance company put my way and made sure my parents were not left with bills they should not be paying.
It's honestly, always something. And I know it could be worse, I know that there are many families that would LOVE to be dealing with insurance companies and Medicare if it meant their loved one was still in the fight- so I try to take it all in and constantly remind myself of just that- we are LUCKY.
After everything yesterday, I wanted to just cry- but instead, it was back to work. I went to just vent to a co-worker, because sometimes I need to just talk through all of the stuff going on, and her response was so perfect and really helped to put it all into perspective. She wrote "Some days/weeks/months just really are harder than others and God is never surprised by what you are going through, he KNOWS it AND the outcome, so rely on His word, the peace that comes from it and try to give it all to Him as only His power can overcome it."
Oh how I've been repeating those words in my head over and over again.
We are still in this waiting game, waiting for the next MRI, waiting to see if our treatments will continue or if we will be seeing a new doctor for clinical trial options- we are waiting.
And throughout all the waiting we are needing to lean on our faith, and our friends and family more than ever. Just like Dad has good and bad days- so do we. There are days where we struggle with the realization of our life- one filled with chemotherapy, Oncology appointments, insurance battles, and the ongoing side effects of the radiology, surgery and mini-stroke. And although this "bad day" has felt more like a bad month, we continue to push forward and push Dad to continue fighting.
Anyone can give up, that would be easy- but to hold it all together when everyone else would understand if you fell apart, that's true strength, and that's exactly what I've seen each day with Dad.
As our next MRI approaches, we are asking for even more thoughts and prayers to be sent our way- we ask that God's hand help to heal Dad and continue to give us precious time with him. We pray that he starts to feel better and can continue to see what an absolute blessing he is to us, and to so many others.
Thank you all, and thanks for helping us BTHO Brain Cancer!
It's been a long month. Heck, it's been a long 31 months since Dad's seizure. And some days, and even some weeks, are easier than others. But this last month has been one that has truly pushed me to lean on my faith, family and friends more than ever.
Not only did Dad's last MRI not look great, but lately he's been feeling just not good. I want so badly to take that pain away from him and do whatever I can to make him feel better- but there is honestly nothing I can do. So instead, I have to sit there during appointments and treatments as I hear him say and (very easily see on his face) that he's feeling down right miserable.
And that itself is difficult to handle, and I struggle with reminding myself how LUCKY we are to have 31 months with Dad, and that some people would take our situation in a heart beat to have their loved one here with us. So believe me, I understand how lucky we truly are, but when you add together Dad's MRI, with his overall quality of life right now, and switching to Medicare- you can imagine the emotional and physical stress I'm having.
The insurance world is an absolute nightmare. I'm still struggling to figure out every step, every "pre-approval" required, every document we need to complete, and every hoop I have to jump through just to get the treatments Dad needs covered (for the most part).
I've dealt with Aetna, BlueCross BlueShield, and now...Humana (through a Medicare Supplement Plan). I've experienced headache, after headache with each insurance company- so it leads me to believe that they are truly all the same. I've gone through appeal processes, I've written to the State Board of Insurance, and I've written to CEO's of hospitals. This all takes HOURS of time. I've been on the phone with insurance for over an hour before just for one claim, and I've called a hospital every day for 2 weeks until they paid us back for an over payment.
And yesterday, I stayed on the phone for about 30 minutes questioning why an OLD insurance company had yet to process a claim and wanted us to pay over $1,500 to our doctor. I'm sure I'm on a list somewhere at Aetna, BlueCross BlueShield, probably the College Station Medical Center and (without a doubt) Scott & White- but I assure you that every claim I've questioned, every appeal I've fought- I've won. Some might have taken me over a year, but I jumped through every hoop the insurance company put my way and made sure my parents were not left with bills they should not be paying.
It's honestly, always something. And I know it could be worse, I know that there are many families that would LOVE to be dealing with insurance companies and Medicare if it meant their loved one was still in the fight- so I try to take it all in and constantly remind myself of just that- we are LUCKY.
After everything yesterday, I wanted to just cry- but instead, it was back to work. I went to just vent to a co-worker, because sometimes I need to just talk through all of the stuff going on, and her response was so perfect and really helped to put it all into perspective. She wrote "Some days/weeks/months just really are harder than others and God is never surprised by what you are going through, he KNOWS it AND the outcome, so rely on His word, the peace that comes from it and try to give it all to Him as only His power can overcome it."
Oh how I've been repeating those words in my head over and over again.
We are still in this waiting game, waiting for the next MRI, waiting to see if our treatments will continue or if we will be seeing a new doctor for clinical trial options- we are waiting.
And throughout all the waiting we are needing to lean on our faith, and our friends and family more than ever. Just like Dad has good and bad days- so do we. There are days where we struggle with the realization of our life- one filled with chemotherapy, Oncology appointments, insurance battles, and the ongoing side effects of the radiology, surgery and mini-stroke. And although this "bad day" has felt more like a bad month, we continue to push forward and push Dad to continue fighting.
Anyone can give up, that would be easy- but to hold it all together when everyone else would understand if you fell apart, that's true strength, and that's exactly what I've seen each day with Dad.
As our next MRI approaches, we are asking for even more thoughts and prayers to be sent our way- we ask that God's hand help to heal Dad and continue to give us precious time with him. We pray that he starts to feel better and can continue to see what an absolute blessing he is to us, and to so many others.
Thank you all, and thanks for helping us BTHO Brain Cancer!
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