I put the wheels to turning today, so that I can go to M.D.Anderson Cancer Center in Houston, TX for a review of my medical situation. They are a national cancer center of excellence, and after asking lots of paranoid questions of my insurance company, I've decided to just go. I don't know yet when, or how, or who may accompany me, but it's going to happen. The ideal is to go after my next chemotherapy session (the day before Halloween) and after I've started to regain a bit of strength back from the treatment. If things go as planned I'll be going and coming back before Thanksgiving. I think going there will help me discern what I need to do surgically, if my chemo is actually killing the enemy within me, and find out if there are any treatments I might be able to take advantage of, that just aren't as well known here. Today I did Betty's grocery shopping and was ready to fall over from exhaustion, so the idea of traveling seems impossible right now, but if they have to throw my fat butt on a skateboard and slide me through the airport, I'm going.
So far, none of the cancer policies has decided they will pay. So far, I have only two-thirds of the income I typically have. So far, things are getting officially scarey financially. But I'm going to load all this on a credit card and live in faith that if the insurance company says they'll pay for it, I will eventually be reimbursed and can then pay the credit card off. What is, afterall, the price of a life? My life?
I thought of my daddy today. I think every boy and girl spends time sitting and watching the fascinating process of a man shaving. It's always interesting to a child to watch the ritual and the humble everyday ablutions of this manly parent. At the bottom of the sink would be the foamy residue with small, black stubble that never quite all washed down the drain. Today when I got in the shower there was a whole sea of mens beards on the floor of my shower as the stubble of my head clearly had not washed down my drain. It made me smile though, to think of my daddy and his shaving and the little girl, me, sitting or standing on the toilet to see better what he was doing. As a matter of hygiene, the stubble is now gone, rinsed down the stubborn drain in my bathroom, no more to haunt me in my daily ablutions.
God bless Eric and Jenn as they continue to feed my body, when my spirit and soul are withered by this chemical mix.