I missed a call from my hospital social worker on Friday. She’s been working with the makers of my chemotherapy pill (Merck) to see if I qualify for prescription payment assistance.
(I already paid the co-pay amount for the first round of pills out of pocket, because I wanted to start treatment as soon as possible and be done with it as soon as possible. Brain tumors, no matter how slow-growing, don’t seem to me like something you just let sit around for weeks unchecked.)
But you know what’s even more shitty? Chemotherapy co-pays on my insurance plan are not like co-pays for typical drugs. They’re more expensive.
“Oh? You want to live? Well, dear, that costs extra.
“Didn’t you see the asterisk on your plan? No, not that one. That one either. No, the other one.”
I’m taking a generic for Temodar, if any of you tumor-havers want to compare notes.
Anyway, I have no idea what the final decision is until I can speak with my social worker, but I’m guessing they’re not going to give me any assistance because I was making too much money at the time I applied for help. (Which basically just means employed.)
So, tomorrow morning, I’ll call for confirmation of the drug assistance decisions, tell my social worker my short-term disability benefit has run out, and start a new conversation about applying for Social Security Disability.
Hot damn, I can’t wait to be judged by healthy assholes on the internet for the high crime of trying to keep my house while I fight a brain tumor that I must have done something to deserve, if, in fact, I didn’t actually give it to myself.
Just thinking about this stuff fills me with angst and dread.
If you’d like to contribute to my YouCaring campaign, or share it with people in your social networks, here’s the link: Help Emily Pay Medical Expenses for a Brain Tumor