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!