I had no idea that getting a terminal illness meant that one was doomed to fill out paperwork for the first six months of treatment. Except, of course, you take your theology from BeetleJuice, where suicide takers are doomed to work civil service in Purgatory and everyone waits in line like the DMV.
In the midst of adjusting to a chemobrain and daily nausea, I’ve had to drill down into various insurance issues related to long-term care, health and co-pay and life insurance. While Meg is managing the fifteen different drugs I take, the schedule of doctors’ appointments and blood tests, I’m trying to figure out how to apply for discounts and grants that are available. The problem is they all require applications.
My morning waking hours are spent applying for considerations in a variety of different programs and agencies. Also, I’m trying to automate my publishing business issues so that payments and royalties are shown in their proper place and where they can be captured if I’m no longer in the picture.
I’m also trying to clarify each oncologist’s interpretation of my numbers and the requirements of my future fight. My local guy sees my cancer as hyper aggressive and therefore, he’s reluctant to make any promises whatsoever on the efficacy of any future treatment. My second opinion doctor from Walnut Creek is more positive, choosing to see the transplantation as at least the opportunity to kick the cancer can down the road and buy time for future chemical treatment options.
The Stanford doc is the most positive, portraying my cancer as mid-range on the aggressive scale and while he isn’t rosy in the assessment of what must go on during the Bone Marrow Transplant, he was pretty optimistic that a year from now I should be feeling like my old self.
Anyway, I choose to stay positive but can’t help think of succession plans when it comes to the church and issues related to my publishing rights. I have several folks looking at my screenplay now and would not want to miss the chance to get some interest there.
Finally, I’ve been so grateful for the financial support by so many in the recent days. I’ve done my best to calculate the costs of the transplant and the costs seemingly are coming down to around $10,000 on a worst case scenario. Kaiser re-imburses $100 per day so maybe $3300 of that will be coming back after the fact. Of course, I’ve got paperwork to do while I’m in quarantine. So I really will look like a Beetlejuice character.
Here’s the details if you still wish to give:
You may send contributions to
Dan’s Redemption Road
6687 Oakmont Drive
Santa Rosa CA 95409
Or use Dan’s Paypal account where He collects his speaking and wedding honoraria.
Thank you in advance and on Dan and Meg’s behalf,