Today Rick and I went to the chemotherapy class at the
Cancer Center. Nurse Rebecca gave a very
nice and informative PowerPoint presentation and I have to say that afterwards,
we both have less anxiety about the process. It still feels like a BIG deal,
but we aren’t as worried about side effects and suffering. It seems there is a lot of support—emotional,
informational, and medical—for cancer victims.
Ironically, I am finally thankful for the poverty—truly. Learning more about the costs of cancer
treatments makes me grateful that we are poor enough to be eligible for
Medicaid—known as Oregon Health Plan, or OHP here--and Rick receives Medicare
because of his disability status. Between
the two, everything is covered. If we
were middle class or working class, we would be risking everything—our home,
our jobs, and total bankruptcy on top of fighting the cancer. Many cancer victims end up homeless after
this kind of a catastrophic illness. My heart suffers for all the families who
are so affected.
And I thank the Divine Powers That Be for our financial
struggles—if it makes Rick’s treatment possible and affordable for us, it was
all worth it. What a strange way to discover such gratitude.
