This week has been so emotionally difficult that I haven't felt I had the strength to write about it until today. I might crack if someone tells me one more time that I have the "good" cancer. There is no such thing as a good cancer. It's true that my chances of surviving this cancer are statistically quite high but the chances of me surviving this cancer with my life unscathed are fairly low given how this week has gone. I should have been spending this week focusing on wrapping up this quarter and studying for finals. Instead I spent this week fighting for my right to continue in my program in the face of the perceived "cancer" disability, and fighting with the hospital to get my charity care application processed.
It is utterly horrifying to me that people could use cancer as an excuse to discriminate against someone, but that is essentially how this week began. The faculty told me that they wanted me to take a "leave of absence" -- which essentially means taking off an entire year which is not financially feasible -- because
they think, despite assertions from my surgeons, that I will not be well enough to continue. When I asked the program chair if I could come to class the first week, see how I felt, and withdraw if needed she reluctantly agreed, of course only after I pointed out that there was no evidence of medical necessity and that the school's own policies allowed for this. A few days later, this Monday, I was told by the clinical site coordinator that if I attempted to go to class next quarter she would refuse to give me a clinical site. There is more to the story than this and I don't think it would be wise to go into all of the details at the present moment, but it angers me deeply that these two people are using
MY cancer to try to get rid of me.
As for my charity care application, I'm reaching a level of frustration that usually results in me yelling at people as though I was speaking in tongues. I sent in the original application before I even made an appointment with my primary care physician. I received a call the next day saying that some of the paperwork I had submitted was insufficient so I got what they needed and faxed it to them the next day. Two days later I called and asked them to confirm that the faxed information had been received, which they did and I was told everything was good.
The day I got diagnosed with cancer, about two weeks later, I went to the financial services office to check the status of my application. They told me it had been closed out as they had never received the paperwork they requested. Thankfully I still had the paperwork in my bag. They made a copy and I went home. Two days later I called to see if there was anything else I needed to do and I was told that they had all of my paperwork and that my application was being processed.
Today I received a call that the paperwork sent to them by their own people was illegible and that I would need to send it to them a third time. I was also informed that this would put me back in the queue and I would have to wait again. I reminded them that I'd already submitted the paperwork twice, that both times mistakes were made on
their end, and that my surgery was scheduled in less than two weeks. When they tried to say again that they couldn't do anything I asked to speak to the manager.
She tried to tell me that it was just the way it was and that they needed to "be fair to the other patients." All the while I'm wondering, "what about being fair to me?" She said that given what I'd said I'd "most likely" qualify. I can't work on "most likely" and go on faith that it will be approved after the fact. I finally convinced her to let me email scanned versions of the documents and process the application right away. If you're reading this blog because you are also going through cancer let me impart to you a bit of my hindsighted wisdom: If you fax something to a hospital billing department, mail it too, maybe a couple of times.
This has possibly been the worst week of my life. I've been so exhausted from the stress-induced insomnia and my boyfriend and friends are practically force feeding me because my interest in food is nil. I don't think anyone ever imagines that after being diagnosed with cancer that the cancer would be the least of their worries. As it stands right now, I don't know if I'll be having surgery on the 17th and I don't know if I'll be returning to school next quarter. The next ten days of my life may be the hardest thing I have ever had to go through. There is no good cancer, there is only cancer that is relatively not as bad.
