So, according to the
specialist, I waited too long for new treatments to become available to treat
my disease. Heard this two weeks ago. Now am being referred to transplant
committee who hold in their cards my winning (or losing) hand. Up to them I
guess as to whether I qualify. I wonder if I should be practicing my tap dance?
Joke-telling maybe?
Meanwhile, as of today,
there is in fact a tolerable (for me) new protocol which indeed may rescue me
from this dire predicament. Will know more when I go back to see specialist.
The cost for oral protocol? $55,000. Thank God (again) I’m on disability. The
ministry can either pay for the protocol or (if I ‘qualify’) the transplant.
It does get a bit itchy
when one must rely solely on this system when one’s imminent mortality hangs in
the balance.
Faithful readers (ahem)
will note that I don’t much believe in prayer beads and desperate last minute
appeals to the Heavenly Father. But I
would seriously appreciate finding a GP who actually gave a shit. My specialist
I like (thank God for that). I got dizzy visiting my GP as he whirled me in and
out of his revolving door patient visits, furiously writing scrips; not picking
up the phone to answer one quickie little question forcing me to spend 1 + 1/2
hours to see him so he can hear his precious Chah Ching per five minute visit.
Oh well.. all of this
bodes well for my experiencing a new perspective. For however long: specialist
gave me 50/50 chance of survival over the next two years without transplant.
Time to dog-paddle in purgatory. Will keep you posted when my head isn’t swimming.
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