It's been awhile since I have written or worked on my site. Or answered emails. Or returned phone calls....Partly because I was having a wonderful visit with my cousin, Anne, from Oklahoma. (I will post more on that later as all good things deserve their own space!) I also hadn't written because I wasn't sure what to say, if I wanted to share it yet, and how to put it all together to even write it. So here goes.
I am done with all treatment options other than a bone marrow transplant. As I write, I await a call from Fred Hutch to schedule me to come on over.
I am terrified. I am terrified of going through the transplant as well as what it will do to my family. I am beyond terrified that I will leave for Seattle and not come back alive. I can barely even look at my family as I feel so guilty that this happening not only to me but to them.
I just updated the fundraising thermometer. Isn't it amazing! It is hard to believe that with all the financial effort of so many people (I haven't updated the donor list yet) that money can still be the difference between transplant or no transplant. Life or death.
Yesterday in the oncologist's office, as I tried to negotiate away the leukemia and the transplant, which by the way, did not work, I cried because I am in this position and stuck. I asked the doctor, through my very pretty tears, how in the hell I am going to pay for this. Her response is that somehow these things usually work out. I want to believe that, I really do. I just don't understand how.
I am told now the insurance company transplant person will get involved. Perhaps that person has the magic wand for changing what they will cover.
I left a message yesterday for the Social Security Disability case worker letting them know that hopefully I am now sick enough to qualify.
Okay, now I am getting nasty. So I will stop. When I have come out of the "hide under the covers and maybe it will go away" stage, I will get my site updated. But I wanted you all to know what was going on. And I mean it, thank you for being on my team.
I am told that things are in the works with media outlets. So maybe you will see me soon. Yes, I will haul myself out of bed and take a shower first.
And yes, I will be seeing a member of my behavioral health team today.
And yes, it really sucks.
From Sally Land, with love.
1 comment:
Hi Sally--got your blogspot from Anne. Took me a minute to connect your bio and married name to the Sally Seward I knew in high school! Even though I have a 13 and 9 year old, it shocked me that you have kids, too. When you don't see someone for a long time, they freeze in time and space and don't change. To me, you are still the 17year old NHS mascot! Of course, everything has changed, for the better and, crappily, for the worse. I am so sorry to hear about your disease and the hearbreaking challenges that go with it. Remembering your spirit of the past and witnessing its continual presence in your blog, I feel very hopeful and confident that you will kick this cancer's ass! I'll keep checking in and praying for strength and recovery for both you and your beautiful family. Take care, Nancy Batchelor
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