Grateful Frustrtion

Imgine this.
You are a 55 y\o woman with early stage invasive lobular carcinoma. They told you Dec 19, 2012 after the hastily organized needle biopsy in the surgeon's office. And this guy is so cool, he tells you, might be a month or two before we can operate. Gotta get the funding in place.
Said it did not matter if you had the cash in hand, no hospital will admit you without either insurance or medicaide. Or maybe wings. Being the over\underacheiver that you are you are approved by both.
The surgeon happily talks to you about reconstruction and wants you to visit a plastic surgeon. (This is an office which you never expected to see but you now believe every woman should spend two ours in, like visiting an opium den before the first taste).
You have been worrying about this appointment forever it feels like, but must be since the end of Jan.
And now it is fucking Feb 4th, 2013! It's a year later (not really), your father's birthday, It is the day you will force yourself to ask this strange man if he can save your nipples, cause you can handle small boobs, but those are really special nipples. They nursed three babies. They (with help) kept your marraige together through rough times. They are one of your favorite parts of your body, and you'd like to die with them intact.
Then you become fearful that saving nipples might not be good idea. What if they change over time and become flacid? You know they lose sensation, but having rock hard nipples all the time is like your only super power. You spend a few hours every day trying to figure out how to tell this to stranger\doctor in an appropriate way (there is none).
At this appointment you are accompanied by your husband. The staff asks for insurance cards and you explain that you are on the Wings program and also Medicaide and your Surgeon should have informed the office of this this as well as sending your records. Lots of calling and searching and explaining before finally the lady in charge with the loudest voice let's it be known to the world that they do not take Medicaide! They do not participate with Wings!
and you stand there sifting papers that make no sense anymore and ask
then why did my doctor send me here?
That's when you start to cry really hard and loud. And your husband becomes angry and beligerant thinking that they are mistreating you. And you all sit down, and the clueless staff looks up a medicade provider for you (probably the first time in their life they've done it) and gives you 2 possibilities for reconstructive breast surgery.
And you're so freaked out you drive to the nearest office, but it's bad info. Then you call the other one and they agree to see you Friday
So if the records get transferred and everything else is cool (Dr refferal) then maybe there will only be a one week delay to your your actual surgery.

And you are grateful that you have his cancer because you know that you will survive and learn from it. And you are grateful for all those loving you and sending prayers and smoke. But you wonder why God thought it was a good idea for you to stand like a hillbilly rube at a fancy party crying, "But I know I have an invitation in here somewhere!"
Maybe to remind the Plastic Surgeon's staff that real people need real help.
Maybe to remind them that most of the people out there are nothing like their customers.
Maybe because the one doctor on the Medicaide list is the right one for you.
Maybe because not getting reconstruction would be a life changing positive experience.

Posted with Blogsy