Do you want to hear something that makes me glad (and ashamed...)? We've been trying to sort out this insurance thing for so long. Turns out that, yes, an insurance company can tell you that you're covered for a month, but your insurance can be canceled retroactively, and with no warning at all. What we discovered is that since we live in Pennsylvania, Univera will not even offer an insurance plan for us, being a New York State insurance company. We were shocked and disappointed, but Cara, being Cara, called Adagio. I had their number and was waiting to see what our insurance company was going to do before calling. Cara couldn't wait. I signed the paperwork yesterday. I'm covered. This is an organization that I know nothing about, but any woman with a cancer diagnosis who has no insurance can be picked up by Adagio. It is 100% coverage for chemo, radiation, prescriptions, any doctor visits. Even dental and vision. There is no co-pay. It is free. I left their offices feeling like a ton had been lifted from my shoulders.
Since we need to provide them with written proof that our insurance has been canceled, Tim called the secretary at his old job. She's working with Doug to close up shop for good. We had been assured by the company that we could buy insurance through Univera, and that employees would be offered COBRA. It was a big shock to us to find out that this was not true. The thing that makes me glad, but shouldn't, is that the owner and his top engineer, the ones that drove the company into the ground while assuring everyone that things would be fine, had planned on simply buying COBRA coverage until they retired in a few months. They both freaked out to discover that they can't. Apparently they did not know that when the fecal material hits the rotary oscillator, everyone gets splattered.
This cancer thing has put a damper on the holiday. I'm so exhausted that I cannot find any joy in the normal holiday preparations. I'm glad the kids will be here. I'm glad the tree is up. Most of the presents bought, most of them wrapped. Simple dinner planned. I can just focus on baking a batch of cookies each day until the big day. Everything has become such a monumental effort that I've really begun to struggle. Yesterday, at the cancer center, I met with one of the hospice folks. I'm trying very hard to endure all of this with some amount of grace, but really, I have to say, I never expected it that it would take everything that I've got to do so.