Archive | July 2012

April 13, 2010 a.m. – Today is the Day

I have my appointment at the breast center this morning.

My sons’ birthdays are tomorrow.  (They are twins.)  I am thinking about a dear friend who died 2 days before the boys’ first birthdays, so five years ago yesterday.  She treated me as a daughter throughout my awkward younger years and until her death.  Her actual daughter was one of my two very best friends, so she often shuffled us from here to there and picked us up from school when we needed a ride.  This was almost every day for a time because her daughter and I ‘stayed after’ for numerous clubs and activities and sometimes just for a chance encounter with the boy we both liked.  [I am smiling as I recall this last bit and how silly we were!]  She never complained about having me in her home or minivan so often.  She said she enjoyed talking to me.  And I felt the same way.  She became close friends with my mother—they were the same age and both warmhearted gardening Englishwomen with gardening English mothers who were displaced from their homelands.  We remained very close.  I even lived with her for a year when I left college.  Oddly enough, the first house I bought was a side-split almost identical to hers–and just around the corner from her–and was a place where she planted some of the lovely lilies she bred.

She was diagnosed with breast cancer in her 40’s.  She was forever changed by it.  And not in the good way people sometimes talk about, but in a way that makes my heart ache for her.  It was painful and traumatic.  And at her young age, isolating, I’m sure.

We should have been celebrating together at my sons’ first birthday party as planned that Saturday five years ago.  Instead, I was at her funeral.

I glanced at some of the silk ribbons hanging on the closet door on my way downstairs this morning.  She had earned the awards for her prize-winning rabbits.  I could hear myself asking her to help me handle whatever happened today.

April 9, 2010—Life is Like a Box of Chocolate Cupcakes

My appointment is all set.  I have mixed emotions about it, but probably not for the reasons you are thinking.  The top and bottom of it?  I am quite fortunate to be seeing a doctor who founded an internationally recognized breast care center.  But I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a bit concerned because I will be seeing the founder of an internationally recognized breast care center.

There are a number of doctors in the center, so why her?  Maybe I have misheard, but as I understand it, this world-renowned pioneer in the field of breast cancer detection doesn’t see just any random patient (unless there is “news” to deliver) because her schedule does not allow for it.  So I find my mind wandering as I ponder why she would see little old—well, “fairly young” me—someone with no family history or risk factors for breast cancer, and someone with NO health insurance.  Would I be paired with ‘the best of the best’ if this wasn’t something serious?  Or maybe she will be reviewing my mammogram because they need someone who can say with absolute certainty that what I’m dealing with is something benign?

It is hard to keep my mind from wandering to a dark place of ‘what-ifs’.  But I am “blessed” with the ability to second guess myself and to downplay the significance of things concerning my health, etc., so the ‘what-ifs’ quickly melt into thoughts about how everything is fine, how I will be wasting this important doctor’s time, and how the clinic I went to has gone to so much trouble to make arrangements with Cancer Services and with the breast care center—and how all of this is for naught.  I suppose that since this dismissal of my own symptoms will lead to less worrying and dwelling, I’ve found an upside to having lower than average self-esteem.  Ha-ha.

I will do my best to be patient.  I will be seeing her first thing on Tuesday morning.  Today is Friday…  It will be a long weekend, but my boys will keep me busy as we gear up for their birthdays on Wednesday.  They have some fun ideas for cakes they would like, so I’ll probably do a trial run to see what I can come up with for their party next weekend…

In the meantime, I’ll leave you with a photo or two of some chocolate cupcakes I made for a fundraiser.  You can’t tell, but they were supersized (and very chocolaty).  I’ll admit that not all of them made it into the boxes!  Thanks for reading…

April 7, 2010 — Pink Bunny Cupcakes & Good Samaritans

This Sunday we celebrated Easter.  I’ve often heard it referred to as a time of renewal.  I think I will remember Easter this year as a time when my faith in human beings was renewed.

On Monday I called to the breast center where I had the mammogram a few years ago and told them that I was having trouble getting a referral for my breast lumps.  My call was transferred until I reached a woman who told me that I could go to a local health clinic that helps uninsured and underinsured people receive basic medical care.  For just $5 – $15, I could receive a manual breast exam.  I immediately called and scheduled the appointment.

I just returned home after a whirlwind visit to the health clinic.  First off, I have to say that it is staffed by remarkable people.  They squeezed me in at the end of the day, so I was the only patient when I arrived.  With no wait, I was brought back to be examined.  It wasn’t long before I was told that I would need a diagnostic appointment at a breast center.

Sensing my concern, the nurse told me that they would find a way to help me with the fees.  Fortunately, there are programs to help women in need receive free mammograms.  Unfortunately, these programs don’t exist—at least in our area—for women under 40.

They told me not to worry, though, and said they would do what they could to help me get taken care of.  The rest of my appointment was spent signing papers and waiting as they assembled and faxed paperwork to a program—Cancer Services (formerly the Women’s Health Partnership)—that pays for diagnostic exams for uninsured men and women with (suspected?) breast, cervical or prostate cancer.  They said that because of my age, they would need to complete extra paperwork, affidavit(s), etc. and then get them sent over right away to make a plea for help with the diagnostic appointment.

It was after 5 p.m. and they were working collectively and without complaint to coordinate everything for me.  How surprising it was not to hear “call back tomorrow” or “we’re closed” or “we can’t help you”.  I didn’t even have to ask and here they were doing their best to rally for me.  So refreshing and heartwarming, especially after the past week.

When I left, they hugged me and said they would do their best to help get me in to the breast care center where I had been seen for my past lumps.  So now I wait…  But I am waiting with a renewed faith in the medical community—or at least in the volunteer medical community.

[Because I love baking and decorating cakes and cupcakes, I thought I would leave you with some photos of the cupcakes I brought to Easter at my sister’s on Sunday…  Thanks for reading…]

April 3, 2010 – They Don’t Have a Frequent Flier Card for This

K & the Easter eggs

Companies and business with “loyalty programs” seem to abound these days.  Purchase 11 large pizzas and get your 12th for free.  Pay full price for 10 haircuts and get the 11th free.  Fill up your gas tank 5 times and get a discount off your 6th fill-up.  Fly x amount of miles and earn a free airline ticket.  Buy 12 donuts and get your 13th free.  These businesses are encouraging loyalty and rewarding you for your repeat business.  The concept makes a great deal of sense—both the business and the patron benefit.  I wish my gynecologist’s office worked the same way.

I’ve been looking for a way to get a screening at least partially covered.  I started with my OB/Gyn’s office.  They said they would charge me full price for an office visit and a breast exam.  I explained my insurance situation and explained that I had already had a manual breast exam less than a year ago and that this was for the same lumps, now larger.  It didn’t help.

So I asked if there was any way I could speak with my doctor and maybe just get a referral to have a mammogram or an ultrasound—I figured this would at least eliminate one charge.  She told me that I could not and said that I would have to come in for a breast exam before I could get a referral.  She  added that the facility where I would have those services performed would charge me a separate fee for their exam.

I assume that if I go in and spend a couple hundred dollars, I could hear the “You’re too young” explanation again, but judging by how much the lumps and my breast itself have grown, I believe I would be sent to the breast center.  Then I would also have the burden of paying for that (much more expensive) visit.  When I asked the office’s gatekeeper if she knew of any resources for obtaining assistance with diagnostic visits, she said there weren’t any the office was aware of.  I told her, ‘thanks anyway’ and said that I would pass on the office visit and on getting the manual breast exam because paying full price out of pocket would be too much for me.  She said okay and added a “Good luck to you.”  That was the end of the conversation.

I hung up, feeling defeated.  Now, it is not that I expected them to give me a free office visit.  I understand that the doctors need to be paid and that the facility has an electricity bill.  But I have been a loyal patient for a long time.  I had good insurance before, so it’s likely that my doctor and her staff have been fairly compensated for any services performed on me in the past.  I have been here many times over the years for my regular check-ups and for issues I’ve had along the way—like multiple bouts with mastitis while I was nursing.  And I was seen there and in the hospital quite a few times during my twin pregnancy—at least until the doctors collectively decided I was too ‘high risk’ to continue with their group and moved me over to the perinatology group at the hospital.  But after my babies were born, it was their office I faithfully returned to.

I have shared moments of joy and sadness, hugs and tears with my doctor.  I encouraged all of the women in my family to change gynecologists and move over to this practice, for goodness sakes!  I have been a very loyal patient.  Shouldn’t that count for something?  Though I don’t expect a free visit, I thought the office might offer some kind of discount or just refer me directly to the breast imaging center to save the expense of an office visit and manual breast exam.

After regrouping, I began calling organizations like Planned Parenthood.  They were friendly enough, but no one was able to assist me with getting a mammogram or ultrasound at a discounted rate.  Or with getting the referral I need so the breast center will see me.  There ARE programs out there to help, but not for someone “as young as me.”

I will still pursue this, but it is Saturday now, so it will have to wait until Monday.

In the meantime, today we are headed to an Easter egg hunt or two with my boys and with my sister, brother-in-law, and my niece and nephew.  This should be a nice distraction.  My little ones are so excited to spend the morning with their cousins.  I guess they aren’t exactly little ones anymore.  They are 5, so they aren’t that young, but since they are only in the 2nd and 3rd percentile for height and weight, they are still physically small.  But something tells me that even if they were 6’3”, they would still be my little boys.

I am looking forward to a special day with the kids.  But in the back of my mind I am concerned.  What will I do if this really is something?  And by something, I mean “the big C.”  Having no insurance makes you feel like a leper of sorts.  A leper with cancer, now who is going to take that on?  I’m trying not to get ahead of myself.  These are likely just benign lumps—statistically, they should be “nothing”, so I am probably okay.

But what if I’m not?  They don’t have a frequent flier card for this.  If my own doctor won’t work with me when I have a true medical problem, why would a doctor who doesn’t know me?