Cancer. I couldn’t believe it. I think we were both in denial. Then the reality set in. My husband was diagnosed with testicular cancer. The questions came flooding over us. How are we going to pay for his treatments? How long will he be out of work? Why us? The one question we didn’t even want to say out loud, what if he doesn’t make it? He was a healthy thirty-one-year-old. Life was busy, he owned his own remolding business we were raising four young daughters, and serving in our church callings. He came home and didn’t feel good. His back was hurting, he thought he pulled a muscle. He went to the doctors, after a few days of not feeling any better. They did some tests and found a lump. He would need surgery. They scheduled the surgery …show more content…
His office encouraged us to go and apply for Medicaid. I remember driving by myself down to the Medicaid office. I was so lost walking into the building and looking for the room number. Finding the room and people waiting in hard plastic chairs for their name to be called, kids were crying or playing on the floor around their mom. “I don’t belong here” I thought. I almost turned and left, but we needed help paying for Stephen’s treatment. I met with a social worker and they gave me some paper work to fill out and said come back next week. I went back the next week with the signed documents, but had to meet with a different social worker this one had different forms that I needed to have signed by the doctor. I left again feeling defeated. I remember crying to my husband and saying, “I don’t know what they want”. I felt like it was a game and if I could figure out the magic password they would grant me the Medicaid. It must have been my third or fourth visit I finally had everything they wanted. I remember sitting at the social workers large desk, he had pushed two office desks together. He gingerly took my papers from me. He wouldn’t even shake my hand, it was like he was afraid of catching something from me. I didn’t care at that point I was just so relieved that I wouldn’t have to come back for a few months. Grocery shopping was another hurdle I had to face. I would shop
Many parents are faced with this issue across the United States, but in Katy’s case, she has inflicted with a life changing event a terminal illness that prevents her from working and paying for child care services. Katy received a letter from her employer stating that they will no longer reimburse for child care services because of her not working. Denial of child care has contributed to the exacerbation of Katy’s symptoms and poor health outcome. Therefore, I am requesting a meeting held during this week with Katy and the Department of Social Services (DSS). The discussion will be focused on denial of child care payments and agreement for a Fair Hearing to discuss Katy’s inability to work and her limitations.
As I was listening to Carol’s story, I realized that her story is one of many patients. Sure, she was lucky that her husband had advocated on her behalf when she was most vulnerable and she took over once she could but how many people could not? Juggling only two balls in the air becomes tricky once we name them “patient care” and “budget”. If we were to place Carol in an ideal hospital, would she have had the same expe...
When I think about the moments leading up to my diagnosis I remember feeling weak, confused, shaky and sleepy. I did not notice that I had began sleeping throughout the day. My body was craving soft drinks like soda and juice but not food. Days would go by and I eventually fell into a deep slumber that I found myself only waking up from to use the bathroom. I knew something was wrong and that if I did not get to a hospital it would get worse. Nothing could have prepared me for the life changing diagnosis I would receive.
...rrifying when I found out that he had MD. He was unable to walk properly and his muscles deteriorated to a large extent. His whole life was changed and I remember me and him crying for long periods.
The one horrific thing about cancer is that I never knew when the timer would run out on me-or how I would cope with it. Finding out my grandmother had cancer instantly hurt me almost as much as it did to say goodbye.-it felt like the beginning to and end all too quick. It all started in the hospital with chemotherapy,
It started off as most of the visits do, with case studies and office work, but what I didn’t know was that the social worker I was meant to be with was running late, and we were only burning time, in a way. Once my worker arrived she said the words I had been waiting to hear for the past month and a half “would you like to go on a visit?” At this very moment I think my face must have looked like a child who was just told they could have ice cream for dinner. As we drove up to the mountain, I was briefed on the foster home we were visiting as well as the family whose children were in care. We also talked about one other visit she had planned, that had fallen though; this one was to take place at a maternity house. As soon as we knocked on the door an older woman and the sounds of a jumping, giggling, little baby boy greeted us. We sat and discussed his growth, health, and overall wellbeing, while playing with the little man. While clumsy and falling often, he was just leaning to walk and his foster parents couldn’t be more proud. On the way back down the mountain I was told more about his time with this family, as well as his older siblings. It was an amazing thing to see, and I’m so grateful I was able to witness this particular
I interacted with more people than I could count - all the while astounded by how many clinics were needed to give the underprivileged basic medical needs. This required participation in interviews on patient history and diagnostic discussions with supervising physicians. Daily, I saw the eyes of the little boy in young patients; I was reminded that it was possible to make a difference in these other countries. I had another opportunity that I did not with the little boy: I was able to form relationships with many of the terminally ill patients while serving tea and talking in hopes of boosting
Imagine having to wake up each day wondering if that day will be the last time you see or speak to your father. Individuals should really find a way to recognize that nothing in life is guaranteed and that they should live every day like it could be there last. This is the story of my father’s battle with cancer and the toll it took on himself and everyone close to him. My father was very young when he was first diagnosed with cancer. Lately, his current health situation is much different than what it was just a few months ago. Nobody was ready for what was about to happen to my dad, and I was not ready to take on so many new responsibilities at such an adolescent age. I quickly learned to look at life much differently than I had. Your roles change when you have a parent who is sick. You suddenly become the caregiver to them, not the other way around.
Todd Burpo experienced many injuries in a short period of time. Just as he thought everything was going great and he was having a fast recovery, his son lands in the hospital. His son has appendicitis and has to go immediately into surgery. I found this interesting because Todd never gave up, even with all the hardships that were coming his way all at once.
I said, "goodbye" to the nurse and left that awful place. Outside, I took a deep breath of cool fresh air. I practically ran to get inside my safe car. When back inside i cried in excruciating pain, I couldn't even feel my face. I sat there for a while thinking of those three terrifying words, Dr. Rust's office. I inserted the key into my ignition, turned it and drove away. When I knew I was home safe, I looked into my rear-view mirror. When I saw that old rickety building filled with bad experiences, I realized that that had been the most uncomfortable place I had ever visited, and I surely wasn't going to return.
You know I never thought of grocery shopping as being a challenge or a skill until I had a house of my own and a family to care for. Today's grocery shopping trips in the Lambert household include my three children ages seven, four, and two tagging along. Wanting anything and everything. I use to enjoy grocery shopping and now it takes so much planning, memorization, and legit skill to get in and out within my set budget, and with getting everything on my list. After doing this for about seven to eight years with children I would consider myself a pro at grocery shopping!
I remember exactly when my dad called my sister and me in the living room to tell us the news. My dad’s face was a face I had never seen before, looked as pale as ice and chocked like if he had seen a ghost. I could see there was something wrong but nothing could have prepared me for that kind of news. The words came out and I thought at first it was a joke. I asked him the question and already knew the answer. My sister started crying and my dad fell in tears too. I couldn’t cry, just wouldn’t come out, I was too stunned by the horrible news.
We arrived at the emergency room only to find several people already there. Joey was begging me to do something to stop the pain in his back; we waited and waited and waited. Finally, in total anger and despair I set out to find someone to help. The doctor came over, examined him and asked me several questions; it was slowly becoming apparent to me that this doctor did not have any answers. Meanwhile I was growing more concerned about the unknown; what was wrong with my child? The doctor, obviously puzzled by the situation, decided to run a CBC (complete blood count). This took what felt like an eternity, suddenly the doctor became somewhat evasive, almost secretive. I was exasperated, determined to find out what was wrong with Joey’s lab report. I inched my way over behind the curtain, so I could overhear bits and pieces of the doctor’s conversation. They were discussing things like a low hemoglobin count and a high white blood cell count, then I heard it, the most devastating word I have ever heard a doctor say-Leukemia.
My father had broken his pelvis in 4 places. He looked helpless and miserable, something I had never seen until that day. Over time, he learned how to use his lower body again. With the help of my family and the support of his friends, my dad started to get better. The doctors said he would never be able to walk again, but within three months of living in his parents’ house in a hospital bed, being taken care of like a child, he gained back his strength and is better than before. Besides the emotional trauma this incident left on my family, it’s physically like the accident never even happened.