“Both abundance and lack [of abundance] exist simultaneously in our lives, as parallel realities. It is always our conscious choice which secret garden we will tend." - Sarah Ban Breathnach
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
I had my doctor's appointment yesterday. He agreed to give me a one-month trial. One month, and if there are any negative side effects, he's pulling the plug immediately. One month, and he would like me to be very honest in my assessment of my symptoms at that point. He was careful to make sure I shouldn't get my expectations up. He emphasized that it was very possible that I will not see any improvement.
I was thrilled. I feel like his approach is the safest and best I can hope for. He is exercising every imaginable caution. He is making sure that my health is top priority, and if he ever feels the risks of taking the medication are too great, he is going to stop the treatment. I'm OK with that. I left his office with a priceless piece of paper in my hands -- a prescription for hope.
Priceless? Well, let me reword that. It definitely comes with a price tag. I found out that my insurance doesn't cover the medication, and that it would cost about $1200. For one month. I can't say I was surprised; I had already researched the drugs and knew it wouldn't be cheap.
So, I now have two options. I can upgrade my insurance, which would increase my monthly premium. I would still have a $750 pharmacy deductible that I would have to pay up front, and then the medication would be $60 a month. Or, since I have no idea if I'll be able to continue taking the meds longer than a month, I could simply pay out of pocket now and wait and see. I have an option for getting the medication cheaper, but it would require waiting about three weeks to get it.
I'm leaning toward a combination of the two. Pay out of pocket now, and then upgrade my insurance if it looks promising. Upgrading my insurance is the better option if I add a second medication to my treatment.
Which all led to a meltdown this morning. Why? It's not just the financial stress this will place on us. We've shouldered financial stress before, very successfully, I might add. No, I can't help but wonder, is it worth it? Which really means, am I worth it?
Ah, you think with time you overcome your teenage insecurities. You accomplish things, you achieve things, you catch yourself feeling proud of yourself once in awhile. And then something like this happens, and the old voices you have spent years silencing rise again to the surface. The old voices telling me I'm worthless.
But what if I asked my children, "If you could have your mom back for just one day, how much would you pay?" I think the answer would be more than a thousand dollars. And if I asked my husband, "If there was the slimmest chance that you could ease your wife's suffering for just one day, how much would you pay?" I imagine his answer would be close to a million.