Still Boring

Two days ago was the third chemo session, and once again, I came through it without any ill effects. From a superstitious and illogical perspective, I wonder if it's working. If I have cancer, why don't I feel worse?

The CT scan I had a couple of weeks ago was unremarkable. The only thing the doctor is worried about right now is that I continue to lose weight. I rarely experience the sensation of "I'm hungry," but I'll eat a decent portion if it's put in front of me. I think the problem is that when I'm feeling good I want to be doing something -- working in the garden or sewing or even taking care of mundane things that every household needs attention to. Cooking isn't on the list. Somehow I've got to get it on the list. 

Speaking of sewing, I've been pumping out chemo hats and scarves like crazy, but no sign yet of my hair falling out. The doctor said I'd lose my hair about 3 weeks into chemo, and we're now at that mark. Wassup?

Here's a good news/bad news thing. My rheumatoid arthritis is in 100% remission. No symptoms whatsoever, which has allowed me to be making all those chemo hats. I wondered if the cancer had scared the RA away, or maybe science would find that cancer cures RA. Whatever the cause, it's been a wonderful relief from the pain in my hands and feet and sometimes knees.

But Friday I figured out why the RA is sleeping. The nurse at the Chemo Spa printed out all the information on the four different drugs they were pumping into me that day. And guess what? Yep, you guessed it. One of the drugs is sometimes used to treat arthritis. So dang it all, I'll be sorry to see the end of chemo. Now how's that for weird?

I think I want to do a short rant on Health Insurance in America. There's no telling how long the cancer was growing in me, because I hadn't been to a doctor except a couple of times for specific purposes in four and a half years. For some of that time I was unemployed, then got a part-time job with a small organization that doesn't offer health insurance. I looked into the possibility of buying insurance on my own, but with the gap in coverage coupled with preexisting conditions and even including a high deductible, it would have cost me about $1800 a month. Umm, I don't have that much money.

So now I have Medicare and I love it, and am eternally grateful. Every few days I receive a stack of EOBs, the notice from the insurance carrier about what bills they've paid. The EOB shows the original billed amount, minus the Medicare discount, and what my portion is. The EOBs run quite a bit behind the date of service, but adding up the original amounts I've received so far comes in not much below $150,000. And the chemo isn't even showing up yet.

About 1 person in 7 in Washington is uninsured. What is happening to all these people? Some have chronic medical conditions that are going untreated. It's a myth that somehow people without insurance can get free medical care. Yes, emergency rooms are obliged to treat anyone who shows up, but neither the hospital nor any healthcare professional is required to provide ongoing medical care. Does anyone out there think that I somehow could have obtained free treatment for my cancer?

I'm receiving treatment and will probably survive because I have Medicare. The alternative is too awful to contemplate. 

Yes yes, of course I know that the Affordable Care Act enters a new phase in 2014. While I'm absolutely in favor of the concept, I've yet to learn exactly what the "affordable" part of the plan is going to mean. My skeptical side fears that decent insurance will continue to be out of reach of many, many people.

Cancer is boring

Here's my typical day: I wake up any time between 4 am and 6:30 am, although the latter constitutes "sleeping late" and doesn't happen often. Weekdays I work from 8 to noon, and by the end of that I'm ready to come home and take a nap. I sleep for 2 to 3 hours. When I get up I putz around and try to do something productive; then have something for dinner; then go to bed. All that activity would have taken me to somewhere between 5:30 and 7:30 pm.

But wait, the schedule doesn't always roll out so smoothly. It seems like more often than not I have to go get some new test (another CT scan last week) or stop by the radiology clinic the day before the CT scan to pick up a couple of bottles of a vile concoction charmingly referred to as "smoothies." Or I've run out of library books and have to go get more. Or I need a prescription renewed. Or normal things, like needing to go to the bank or grocery shopping.

And let us not forget that two Fridays out of three I'm wired up for about three hours while soothing, healing poisons wash through my body.

The second chemo session went as well as the first. I had no after-effects, no nausea, nothing. In fact, I felt pretty energetic on Saturday and Tina came over to help me clean the kitchen and living room, and on Sunday Sherri helped me cut out more chemo hats.  But then the sky fell yesterday, Monday, and I was too tired to get out of bed. I certainly didn't feel like I worked too hard or too much over the weekend, so I'm not sure whether it was a delayed reaction to Friday's chemicals, or just a tired day.

And what makes cancer so dang boring is that I can't just have a lazy day without worrying that it'll never go away. All of my clothes are hanging on me because I've lost so much weight: Do I buy more clothes or assume that I'll soon start gaining the weight back? Cancer has taken over every aspect of my life. And yes of course I do fun things, and I work in the garden and I read and I sew a little bit now and then and I hang out with my friends, but C A N C E R is the current soundtrack.