After cancer treatment, I think we all must look like a sailboat pushed off from the dock. We need puffs of fresh breezes and some sort of map so we may proceed.
Pushing off from that dock, that is hope. Hope with a capital H. We leave the medically guided treatments behind, knowing we are out there in the boundary-less ocean under our own steam. We steer the boat. We make sure there is wind in our sails.
You do it your way. My way is asking God to be the power of the wind, and at the same time be the gentle whisper of direction. That's how I have hope.
Once in awhile we have to interact with the medical universe. I'm doing that now.
Things have been going pretty good. Tired. If I am up and out of the house for over five hours, I will start getting shivers, and whole body aches. I am walking an hour a day, now going faster each day. Port site still tender, improving every day.
Taking anastrozole to soak up estrogen. It makes my joints ache. The muscle aches are fading, I think they were a result of chemo. The joints though, especially my shoulders, hips and hands, still ache.
Dr. M's assistant told me to call after four weeks if I still had aches and they could try me on Arimidex, not the generic. I called yesterday, and they called in Femara, which isn't the same drug but it still is an aromatase inhibitor. Unfortunately when they called in the new prescription, they didn't say medically necessary, so it was $500 (not covered by insurance.)
I called the office again, told them the story, they will fax in another prescription. I called the pharmacy, they are calling my insurance company to see if they will cover it.
The point of this is two fold. First, once again the doctor's office doesn't follow the plan they told me in the first place (second drug to try would be Arimidex, but now they say I should try Femara as second drug). This has happened several times over the past nine months, changing the treatment plan. I know it isn't a big deal, but it doesn't help build confidence in their choices. Perhaps there is more than one ideal choice for my second drug. They could have explained that to me. Taking a drug every day for five years to prevent cancer recurrence is a big deal to me and my body. I would like this choice made with all the consideration they can muster.
Secondly, why does it have to always be difficult? Why are there complications in pretty much every step you take? Well, no one said it would be easy, did they?
