Angels outlined in LED lights to you all.
Courtesy of single payer healthcare, I write this diary. I wasn't supposed to be here. In spring of 2008, I was hoping to see the election results. Or even Thanksgiving. I didn't know whether I could hold out until Christmas.
But only a few months before, I had become eligible for Medicare. People on SSDI have to wait two years before they are eligible.
I wasn't on SSDI for cancer; a couple of confinements in a mental institution got me the gig.
Jump with joy, below the fold. Be careful. Don't fall down.
"You can't worry if it's cold; you can't worry if it's hot; you only worry if you get sick. Because then if you don't get well, you die."
- Jaoquín Andujar
So, in May of 2008 I learned I had lung cancer. I had already been sick for a long time. I could hardly walk. Antibiotics didn't clear up the lung problems.
But then, I got a primary-care doctor who slotted me into the Memorial/Hermann system.
Biopsy, then an operation to implant a port in my chest for transfusions.
Two courses of chemotherapy. Chemotherapy is not a pleasant walk in the park, folks. Still, I didn't have as dramatic side-effects as some do. My hair fell out. I didn't even have eye-lashes. But there was little nausea, to Dr. Joan Bull's surprise.
All the while, as the chemotherapy continued, I felt stronger after the effects subsided. By June of this year, I could walk around the block. The second round of chemotherapy was with a different drug. My hair started to grow back. Oddly, it was much redder than before, not a trace of the silver which had previously dominated.
Then, in September of this year, I started getting daily radiation treatments. I had no side-effects at all. I guess the physician (Dr. Carpenter of St. Luke's) knew his stuff.
In November, I had to have surgery, but not for cancer. Abcess and fistula, no detail will be mentioned here. Whew. That was horrible, but I'm all better now.
Last Thursday, I saw Dr. Bull again. She only wanted to talk about books we were reading. She's a charming woman, and fancies herself a Viking (Norwegian name). I finally asked, "What's next?"
Nothing. She was just enjoying my company. The cancer is dead. No more chemo, no more radiation. Best of all, no surgery!!
I will have to have follow-up consultations and scans, but basically I'm a free man.
So, to come back to the point, Medicare saved my life.
I'm still buried in medical debt. A twenty-percent co-pay on an MRI or PET scan is a huge bill to pay.
But, I didn't have to be driven to San Antonio for treatments when Hurricane Ike closed down the charity hospital in Galveston.
It's a wonderful life.
Tomorrow, the family gathers. I will be so happy to be with them.
It couldn't have happened at a nicer time.
Out of the darkness, a light shines.
Be well.