Apologies for the utter silence: as much as I wanted to write, it was a tough week and my resilience bucket was more empty than not. Since the intent of this blog is to communicate, not to depress, silence was the better option.

Today, however, my resilience bucket has thankfully refilled itself and I can tell you a little more about life in cancer city.

As I’ve said before, when you have cancer, you are hyper-aware of body nuances that most of us disregard. Little crick in your neck? I’d think I slept wrong and unless it was sore enough to require Tylenol, I’d just stretch and move on. That crick in the neck for a cancer patient means worry over a possible new symptom, the spread of cancer. Don’t believe me? A little Google action is all you need to see how common it is. Because chemo causes a wide variety of symptoms, there are regular adrenaline rushes and crashes as pains, bumps, rashes, etc come and then go. It’s exhausting to be continually in the midst of a fight or flight event.

Today, the port worked well; unfortunately the syringe failed. That unhappy combination resulted in blood splattered on everything —  the nurse (thankfully wearing protective gear), the lounge chair, Ken, the floor. We laughed about the port choosing today of all days to work smoothly. Every single other day, if the syringe had failed, there would have been no repercussions since the initial blood draw attempts have all been empty of blood.

Ken has re-gained about 6 pounds, due in large part to the support of his community (Thank you!). At his weigh-in, we joked that he’s wearing his heavy lounge pants today but the tech was having none of our nonsense. Last week, she weighed him twice. His weight loss was so significant that she didn’t believe the initial result. This week, she gave a nod of approval at his weigh-in. Efforts validated!

Last Saturday was pet therapy. We were given the impression that there would be several dogs but in fact, there was one small charmer named Brodie. We enjoyed his company very much. There were only 3 families in attendance and we spent a significant portion of the hour and a half looking at each other awkwardly. We’re still deciding if we’re going to keep attending for the next 8 months. More to come on that, I guess!

I had a terrible call with Highmark customer service this week, the first ever. In all the years I was a Highmark employee, I never had any trouble. In the almost 4 months since I moved to the COBRA group numbers, I have had at least a dozen claims denied in error and lost dental benefits (I had to call twice before we had our dental benefits back).

Anyway, I won’t disclose the CSR’s name (oh, yes, I remember it) but here’s a brief paraphrased synopsis to show you how the discussion went. I called due to yet another claim denial, this one for radiology services.

Deb: My husband, stage 4 colon cancer, has a denied radiology claim associated with his PET/CT. Can you tell me why it denied?

CSR: I can’t answer that question without disclosing PHI which would be a violation of HIPAA.

Deb: As I said, I know the diagnosis and second, all I want to know is why this denied.

CSR: I can’t answer that question without disclosing PHI which would be a violation of HIPAA.

Deb: Is the treatment covered by his benefits?

CSR: I can’t answer that question without disclosing PHI which would be a violation of HIPAA.

Deb: Can you submit for re-processing? I’m pretty sure this denied in error.

CSR: I can’t answer that question without disclosing PHI which would be a violation of HIPAA.

Deb: Thanks for your help.

This encounter was a test of my ability to remain courteous and when I look back, I am pretty sure I failed. And that makes me sad.

It’s a slow cancer treatment day; the nurse said I can sit in the cancer lounge next to Ken because the whole row is empty. I tried it out (confirmed comfy!) but couldn’t stay in it. Sitting in the cancer lounge feels oddly like I’m tempting fate. (I know how weird that sounds; I’m pretty confident, in my rational mind, that I could not get cancer from sitting in a chair!)

Today is Scholastic Book Fair set-up day at my son’s school. I’ve been the book fair chair for 5 years (did I just validate all your suspicions of my nerditude?!) and will be going to help with setup after chemo. Ian’s going to stay after school to help. He’s still having a rough time with “friends” at school. I think his resilience is low and that’s making it hard for him to handle nonsense that he would normally ignore. Also, Ian hasn’t told anyone except his bestie about his dad’s cancer. Maybe if he did, the kids would be a little kinder. I don’t know.

We asked his older brother and sister for advice about the latest experiences. Tristan told his brother that Ian owns whether or not other kids can talk to him and that he has the right to say “I’m done with you” to anyone. (Good advice for all of us, I think.) Haley said she planned to cut class to go to his school and punch the kids who are messing with him. (Violence may not be the answer but the mental picture of Haley storming the 4th grade classroom made me laugh.)  I am proud of them for having each other’s back so thoroughly.