Hope Is Afoot

Every time I think of things being “afoot”, I think of the movie, Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure.  I also just started watching House of Cards, and I have compulsion to editorialize what’s going on to an imaginary camera.  Both events are most likely symptoms of too much TV and way too much time alone with my dog.

 

Tomorrow, I have an appointment with my rheumatologist at UCLA.  Today, I spoke with my primary care provider’s case manager (At the VA Hospital) and arranged to pick up my most current blood work.  I am really liking the VA in Long Beach.  The case manager wants me to contact her tomorrow morning with my doctor’s recommendations.  I do miss the rheumatology department at Loma Linda VA, but driving less was worth the move.

 

Today, I finally accepted what I already knew:  That I do not need a home health  care worker here with me 6 hours a week.  I’m too active now, which feels very good.  When I have to rearrange my schedule to be home to have help, I don’t need it.  I need someone to clean for me, not take care of me.  That’s a huge milestone.  After 45 days in the hospital and weeks of recovery, I’m now too active to have a nurse come over and that feels very good.  I know my family may be reading this and cringing, but they already know I’m not good at sitting still.  Today, though a Monday, was a great day!  I cleaned my own apartment.  The living room no longer looks like a laundry station.  My dog is exhausted and walked.

 

I gathered my test results and read my doctor’s notes from my last appointment.  My prognosis was good with a balance of diet and exercise.  I feel well most of the time, but I can tell my body is dragging from not exercising.  That’s really the last piece to pick up after that 45 day interruption.

 

So, tomorrow is the big day.  Back for my quarterly check up with my rheumy at UCLA.  Things are looking up.  Now the trick is to keep it going,  but hope is afoot and I think I have some great times ahead.  After being diagnosed with scleroderma 20 years ago this October, I never thought I’d make it this long.  I do wonder…  Is there some person who approved my lifetime service connected disability getting chewed out in someone’s office because I wasn’t expected to live this long?  Or is this person celebrating his/her retirement somewhere?  I hope they are celebrating, whoever they are.

 

I really should have worn make-up here.

That’s teleangectasia on my face.

Without the help of the Veteran’s Administration, and service connected disability benefits, I would not be alive today.  I would have had to endure ineffective treatment and it’s side effects, without the option to find a better doctor and pay out of pocket sometimes for a valuable second opinion.  I would probably be missing fingers because I would have had to have someone split a 100mg Viagra tablet into fours because Viagra was non-formulary at the time for Raynaud’s Phenomenon, (Yes, I was prescribed 25mg and the VA did try to get me to split up a 100mg.),  but I had doctors and practitioners who went to bat for me.  I do realize just how lucky I am to be here.  I wonder, why can’t everyone have disability benefits that are well above the poverty level, like me?   And don’t tell me it’s because I’m a veteran.  I think that is bullshit.  This is medical care and resources.  If a person is too sick to work, how can we expect that person to live a full life if they are constantly unable to buy medicine or healthy food?  And just because a person is sick and poor, that does not mean they do not deserve to live a full life.  Look, I don’t think we should send everyone on a European vacation, I’m saying wouldn’t it be nice if they could put their energy toward health instead of choosing between medicine and food?  I’m so tired of reading about sick people putting themselves in debt while being denied Social Security benefits and reapplying.  It’s just stupid.  And really it does send a message that if they just deny people enough, they’ll  die eventually.

 

Eliminating discrimination based on existing conditions is a start.

 

We are making progress, but it’s not enough.  I’m still here because I have had resources not available to most scleroderma patients.  Medication, though accessible, is still very expensive.  I wouldn’t know that because my medication through the VA is FREE.  Yes, FREE.  Imagine how many people might be feeling better if they had access to care and medicine.  Getting the right treatment based on expense rather that what works, is still the way insurance companies do business- and the VA if you don’t fight for it- but that’s a whole other post.

 

I really have no idea what to do about all that.  Is it just me, or did that go on a bit?   It’s your world.  I’m just living it it.