Recently, people have been asking me if I would do a GoFundMe for medical bills. I have been reluctant, because I have felt strange about it, but I finally relented when some of my old fitness bootcamp pals put a GoFundMe together and after another group of friends sent me some funds and after I asked another group of friends what they thought. The answer has been that people want to help and it would make people happy, so it’s up! (I also nearly forgot that my half-birthday is around the corner. It’s something I celebrate every year somehow, just a fun non-holiday that I acknowledge with people who share my birthday.)
People have done so much already, and I don’t want to come off as if I’m asking for money. It’s there for people who want to donate, but I have received so many gifts and so much support that my heart is full. (And so is my belly, thanks to a recent candy influx.) Please don’t feel pressure. Everyone has done more than enough.
The bills are high and I’ve spent a lot over the past five years, I feel as if it won’t leave me destitute and that I will be OK. Why is bankruptcy or destitution the measurement though? I am not a fan of the healthcare corruption and that bankruptcy and crippling debt are a fairly common side effect of being sick. It shouldn’t be. We accept that prices will be inflated. We pay off medical bills for years. In exchange for fixing our broken bodies, we have broken spirits.
When I am in the hospital or at the doctor, I feel as if the meter is running: I turn down tests, argue over ambulance transportation, and question what’s really necessary, because I don’t want a big bill. I’ve skipped medications. Currently, BlueCross/BlueShield is refusing to pay for the last day of my hospital stay in January because, the company argues, I was well enough to go home. I was not. The doctors tried to prepare me to go home but switching some of my intravenous medications to oral ones so that I can exist outside the hospital. I know that if the choice came to laying down and dying on the hospital steps or crippling debt what I would choose.
Someone I know died at 28 of lymphoma; her back had been hurting her for awhile before she had it checked out because she didn’t have insurance, and the cancer was detected too late to save her. We all know stories like this, right?
What I would really like is change. I have a vision of terminally and chronically ill people descending upon healthcare lobbyists and insurance companies, shuffling forth holding our IV poles and hospital gowns closed like post-apocalyptic zombies and somehow physically dismantling the corrupt system. I think it my mind it’s the French Revolution meets The Walking Dead. I’m unsure of how to make this happen. I vote. I write letters. I’ve marched. I don’t feel like it’s enough. I’m not a leader, but when the call comes for one more broken body to fight the system, please count me in.
I also have some news on the healthcare front that I’ll put in another post. I will be starting chemo next week, as the new treatment is not available yet and we can’t afford to wait much longer to try to get the pancreatic tumors under control. Why is this treatment—that has been FDA approved and has been available in Europe—not ready? Negotiations with health insurance companies.
