I am writing this plea because I see no other choice but to ask for help from a broader audience. I have nowhere else to go. I have survived cancer and overcome so many obstacles; however, the financial disruption from the cancer has devastated my future and is now knocking on the door to take claim to all I have left. I do not know what else to do than to try to find help to save my daily life.
I am humbled beyond words and very thankful for the help I have gotten that has brought me to this point. During my hospitalization, my church, and other local churches and the community covered my home expenses so that I would have a house to come home to. I was also sent an angel who cared enough to coordinate these efforts. For that I am eternally grateful. The many years and ongoing cancer-created needs have drained my family’s resources, so now I’m without a safety net and in freefall. It has been a long, difficult and costly experience. The difficulties have continued to escalate over time. I now find that despite the desire to do so, I cannot work enough to turn things to a positive direction.
The fact is that the last ten years of my life have been absolutely horrible. My life crumbled during the misfortune of my husband’s unexpected incarceration and that pattern of devastation and loss has continued in various ways. It was a crushing blow to say the least. In the process of overcoming that experience, I have fought all battles and even won some; yet, the hardest thing was getting the diagnosis of Cancer in 2015. It, of course, was a very rare cancer, less than 4% of all cancers were my kind. During that same fall, I went through radiation and then chemotherapy, however, chemotherapy failed to help. By that December, I had a small operation while hoping to resolve the matter; however, it did not. As a result, I had major surgery in February 2016. The very personal nature of my cancer and surgery is such that I find it very awkward and difficult to discuss. The surgical plan included returning to part-time work within a month post-surgery.
Reality was that I was hospitalized in facilities located hours away from my home, I did not even get back to the Eastern Shore of Virginia for eight months after the surgery day. Many things went wrong, some horribly so. For example, someone made a decision to sit me up in a chair the day after this major surgery. This one horrible mistake was a major setback as the 18 inch scar ripped apart, leaving a gaping 3.25” x 18” wound. This particular complication was unnecessary.
Other complications arose from my diabetes. At one point during my extended stay at one of multiple facilities, my brother checked my blood sugar levels and found them to be in the very dangerous range, not once, but twice– 24 and 36 – close to expiration on a good day, but very dangerous after major surgery such as mine.
Adding insult to injury, I was transferred to another hospital where the incorrect type of bandage was used which left the wound vulnerable to infection. It was a scary time for my family as every tiny movement I made set off bells and flashing lights when a suction seal was disrupted from movement. Twice my family was not sure I would make it.
I can recall one Friday night when there was an ultrasound performed on my legs. The following day, the attending doctor said there were no problems; however, on Sunday, the new attending physician felt differently. He sure did act on it too, showing a display with his arms flinging in the air and saying I needed to have a filter placed immediately. Even so, we never did find out the type of clot or where it was located.
Shortly thereafter, I was taken back to the original facility I had been for the original surgical event. Unfortunately, the outpatient surgery staff left me waiting for so long that they forgot about me (probably because of shift changes), but the fiasco came close to missing an important deadline. The wound bandage system being used on me was such that it could not be “off the pump” for more than two hours or it would have to be replaced. They got me back to the other facility just in time; however, someone lost all the paperwork as to what type of filter was used and who the manufacturer was. Nothing was easy with me.
Because of my circumstances and the nature of my surgery, I was kept in bed so long that my muscles atrophied and I lost the ability to walk. I actually had to learn how to do that again also.
Thanks to the efforts of my brother and my case worker at Blue Cross Blue Shield, I ended up being transferred to the wound center at a Richmond facility. Soon thereafter, following an ultrasound, I learned that there were no clots; therefore, the previous procedure and ensuing drama were totally unnecessary. I felt like nothing more than a cash-cow.
At this new hospital, I had to undergo daily procedures that involved cleaning the wound of dead tissue. It was an ordeal every time. Nobody thinks about the discomfort involved in the aftermath of surgery, but it is not pleasant. The equipment they had to use to clean the wound was similar to a sprayer hose at a car wash. Spraying me over and over and over again, they washed until as much of the dead tissue as possible for that cleansing was sloughed away. Afterwards, the wound was re-bandaged.
The infection sites were so severe that I also required daily Hyperbaric Oxygen treatments to speed the healing process. Each day I was put into a tube, similar to the tube at the drive-in teller at a bank to be quite honest and kept me breathing in pure oxygen for 50 minutes at a time. Due to the restrictions, and safety precautions, I had to change to their required clothing, a pure cotton gown, so that I would not catch fire, literally. Afterwards, was decompression, just like an underwater diver. A person can only have 50 such treatments in their lifetime and I had 30, from Monday-Friday for six weeks.
When I did finally return to the Eastern Shore, I could not go home as I needed constant care for a while; however, even if I had been well enough, I still could not have gone home because while I was laid up the hospital, a 70-foot tree crashed through my house, directly above my bed. The result destroyed the newly remodeled front end which had upgraded electrical and insulation. Beset with medical problems and inexperience in insurance matters, I did not handle that situation correctly and ended up not receiving enough money for all the repairs.
For almost four months after I returned to the area, I had to travel daily, Monday thru Friday from the town of Melfa where I stayed with family, to Franktown Community Health Center (25 – 30 minute drive) to have my bandages changed. I was notified that my insurance was running out of allowable home health visits. Nevertheless, I was blessed to have someone who I did not even know, volunteer to come to Melfa and change my bandages every day which allow me one visit a week on Sundays which was greatly needed so my condition could be tracked and reported.
While I was embroiled in this medical challenge, people took better care of me than I ever could have imagined, hoped or prayed for. As a self-employed single person, there was no income coming in while I was away. But family, friends, my church, other churches, and members of the community pitched in to keep things for me. They collected funds to pay my mortgage and keep the lights on. People were even kind enough to take care of my animals so I did not have to find them new homes and would be there when I got back. Thank God for family and friends!
Even so, the financial obligations continued and outside help decreased. Afterall, I was back and did look better. But I was still unable to work very much. Yes, I was better and getting better but the recovery tract is a long and arduous journey, I had no idea. For several months after I returned, I would go to work after the daily bandage changes while trying to keep my business going. As I slowly got stronger, my friend and coworker who had held up my business during my absence, had an unfortunate accident, becoming completely incapacitated himself. Looking back, it is hard to conceive that all of this could happen to people around you but it does.
I had previously worked on computers on a part-time basis but not enough to run a repair business, and so I had to learn. I worked long and hard to increase my knowledge. Also during that time I secured a part-time county job to survive, to at least have some income, while going to the Shop at nights and weekends.
Another ripple effect in the pond, I had slid behind on my Real Estate taxes. Although it is my understanding that a payment plan and opportunity to catch up is required by law, this option was not offered to me. Instead, my entire paycheck was garnished. I attempted to get them to at least allow me $50 for gas and food but the county official in charge at the time would not hear of it. I was unable to change a thing.
The night I received that first paystub for $0.00, I only had 1/8 of a tank of gas and no money to purchase more. I didn’t know where to turn. I believe a miracle happened that same night, when someone who did not know my current circumstances, provided me with just enough money to get a tank of gas. Otherwise I would not have been able to return to work the next day. Thanks to others I did get through.
I have tried hard to keep up with everything but have been unable to overcome the most recent development. I am still in shock and disbelief with all the drama and trauma that has happened in my life; however, I was crushed to learn that my bank has moved forward to sell my home. I believe they have improperly foreclosed on my home and are attempting to list it with a realtor. From what I understand, I don’t think they can get away with this.
During the same week in November of this year I had my oncologist tell me my oncological surgeon had gotten sick (cancer) and I was one of his cancer patients who had "i had fallen through the cracks". I found out I have not had proper post surgical care. Also the bank wanting to list the house and received a get it together or get out by my landlord.
If I can get a foothold I truly still believe things can work.
To be honest, I am feeling weak, tired, and overwhelmed by the laundry list of mistakes, mishaps, missteps and that never-ending feeling of sinking. I am trying so hard to keep my chin up.
That house has been my home for 36 years and it’s just a small, humble, little brick rancher which I have grown to love.
My family has been a tremendous help through all of this, but I don’t expect them to give past their limitations which began to stretch beyond the limit a while ago. My brother is fighting to keep up with his own mortgages and business (he is self-employed also) and taking care of my Mother who has dementia. Other relatives, with whom I am closest, have several health issues as well and simply cannot help anymore.
If you have the desire and the ability to help someone who is actively trying to help themselves, please consider helping me. Please help me to fight for my rights, my life and to keep trying to win battles. I am trying to save my house and my daily life, whatever that may be at this point – a new normal. I certainly don’t have much else left to lose in a literal sense and have been so blessed and received so much already I know I am person changed for the better. I will gladly be spending the rest of my days paying it forward, showing the kindness to others that has been bestowed on me.
God bless you and from the bottom of my heart,
thank you.
joanie
As I was previewing this before posting (which is so hard to do) I noticed that I started trying to do this 5 months ago and have just now been able to post it, unbelievable
I am humbled beyond words and very thankful for the help I have gotten that has brought me to this point. During my hospitalization, my church, and other local churches and the community covered my home expenses so that I would have a house to come home to. I was also sent an angel who cared enough to coordinate these efforts. For that I am eternally grateful. The many years and ongoing cancer-created needs have drained my family’s resources, so now I’m without a safety net and in freefall. It has been a long, difficult and costly experience. The difficulties have continued to escalate over time. I now find that despite the desire to do so, I cannot work enough to turn things to a positive direction.
The fact is that the last ten years of my life have been absolutely horrible. My life crumbled during the misfortune of my husband’s unexpected incarceration and that pattern of devastation and loss has continued in various ways. It was a crushing blow to say the least. In the process of overcoming that experience, I have fought all battles and even won some; yet, the hardest thing was getting the diagnosis of Cancer in 2015. It, of course, was a very rare cancer, less than 4% of all cancers were my kind. During that same fall, I went through radiation and then chemotherapy, however, chemotherapy failed to help. By that December, I had a small operation while hoping to resolve the matter; however, it did not. As a result, I had major surgery in February 2016. The very personal nature of my cancer and surgery is such that I find it very awkward and difficult to discuss. The surgical plan included returning to part-time work within a month post-surgery.
Reality was that I was hospitalized in facilities located hours away from my home, I did not even get back to the Eastern Shore of Virginia for eight months after the surgery day. Many things went wrong, some horribly so. For example, someone made a decision to sit me up in a chair the day after this major surgery. This one horrible mistake was a major setback as the 18 inch scar ripped apart, leaving a gaping 3.25” x 18” wound. This particular complication was unnecessary.
Other complications arose from my diabetes. At one point during my extended stay at one of multiple facilities, my brother checked my blood sugar levels and found them to be in the very dangerous range, not once, but twice– 24 and 36 – close to expiration on a good day, but very dangerous after major surgery such as mine.
Adding insult to injury, I was transferred to another hospital where the incorrect type of bandage was used which left the wound vulnerable to infection. It was a scary time for my family as every tiny movement I made set off bells and flashing lights when a suction seal was disrupted from movement. Twice my family was not sure I would make it.
I can recall one Friday night when there was an ultrasound performed on my legs. The following day, the attending doctor said there were no problems; however, on Sunday, the new attending physician felt differently. He sure did act on it too, showing a display with his arms flinging in the air and saying I needed to have a filter placed immediately. Even so, we never did find out the type of clot or where it was located.
Shortly thereafter, I was taken back to the original facility I had been for the original surgical event. Unfortunately, the outpatient surgery staff left me waiting for so long that they forgot about me (probably because of shift changes), but the fiasco came close to missing an important deadline. The wound bandage system being used on me was such that it could not be “off the pump” for more than two hours or it would have to be replaced. They got me back to the other facility just in time; however, someone lost all the paperwork as to what type of filter was used and who the manufacturer was. Nothing was easy with me.
Because of my circumstances and the nature of my surgery, I was kept in bed so long that my muscles atrophied and I lost the ability to walk. I actually had to learn how to do that again also.
Thanks to the efforts of my brother and my case worker at Blue Cross Blue Shield, I ended up being transferred to the wound center at a Richmond facility. Soon thereafter, following an ultrasound, I learned that there were no clots; therefore, the previous procedure and ensuing drama were totally unnecessary. I felt like nothing more than a cash-cow.
At this new hospital, I had to undergo daily procedures that involved cleaning the wound of dead tissue. It was an ordeal every time. Nobody thinks about the discomfort involved in the aftermath of surgery, but it is not pleasant. The equipment they had to use to clean the wound was similar to a sprayer hose at a car wash. Spraying me over and over and over again, they washed until as much of the dead tissue as possible for that cleansing was sloughed away. Afterwards, the wound was re-bandaged.
The infection sites were so severe that I also required daily Hyperbaric Oxygen treatments to speed the healing process. Each day I was put into a tube, similar to the tube at the drive-in teller at a bank to be quite honest and kept me breathing in pure oxygen for 50 minutes at a time. Due to the restrictions, and safety precautions, I had to change to their required clothing, a pure cotton gown, so that I would not catch fire, literally. Afterwards, was decompression, just like an underwater diver. A person can only have 50 such treatments in their lifetime and I had 30, from Monday-Friday for six weeks.
When I did finally return to the Eastern Shore, I could not go home as I needed constant care for a while; however, even if I had been well enough, I still could not have gone home because while I was laid up the hospital, a 70-foot tree crashed through my house, directly above my bed. The result destroyed the newly remodeled front end which had upgraded electrical and insulation. Beset with medical problems and inexperience in insurance matters, I did not handle that situation correctly and ended up not receiving enough money for all the repairs.
For almost four months after I returned to the area, I had to travel daily, Monday thru Friday from the town of Melfa where I stayed with family, to Franktown Community Health Center (25 – 30 minute drive) to have my bandages changed. I was notified that my insurance was running out of allowable home health visits. Nevertheless, I was blessed to have someone who I did not even know, volunteer to come to Melfa and change my bandages every day which allow me one visit a week on Sundays which was greatly needed so my condition could be tracked and reported.
While I was embroiled in this medical challenge, people took better care of me than I ever could have imagined, hoped or prayed for. As a self-employed single person, there was no income coming in while I was away. But family, friends, my church, other churches, and members of the community pitched in to keep things for me. They collected funds to pay my mortgage and keep the lights on. People were even kind enough to take care of my animals so I did not have to find them new homes and would be there when I got back. Thank God for family and friends!
Even so, the financial obligations continued and outside help decreased. Afterall, I was back and did look better. But I was still unable to work very much. Yes, I was better and getting better but the recovery tract is a long and arduous journey, I had no idea. For several months after I returned, I would go to work after the daily bandage changes while trying to keep my business going. As I slowly got stronger, my friend and coworker who had held up my business during my absence, had an unfortunate accident, becoming completely incapacitated himself. Looking back, it is hard to conceive that all of this could happen to people around you but it does.
I had previously worked on computers on a part-time basis but not enough to run a repair business, and so I had to learn. I worked long and hard to increase my knowledge. Also during that time I secured a part-time county job to survive, to at least have some income, while going to the Shop at nights and weekends.
Another ripple effect in the pond, I had slid behind on my Real Estate taxes. Although it is my understanding that a payment plan and opportunity to catch up is required by law, this option was not offered to me. Instead, my entire paycheck was garnished. I attempted to get them to at least allow me $50 for gas and food but the county official in charge at the time would not hear of it. I was unable to change a thing.
The night I received that first paystub for $0.00, I only had 1/8 of a tank of gas and no money to purchase more. I didn’t know where to turn. I believe a miracle happened that same night, when someone who did not know my current circumstances, provided me with just enough money to get a tank of gas. Otherwise I would not have been able to return to work the next day. Thanks to others I did get through.
I have tried hard to keep up with everything but have been unable to overcome the most recent development. I am still in shock and disbelief with all the drama and trauma that has happened in my life; however, I was crushed to learn that my bank has moved forward to sell my home. I believe they have improperly foreclosed on my home and are attempting to list it with a realtor. From what I understand, I don’t think they can get away with this.
During the same week in November of this year I had my oncologist tell me my oncological surgeon had gotten sick (cancer) and I was one of his cancer patients who had "i had fallen through the cracks". I found out I have not had proper post surgical care. Also the bank wanting to list the house and received a get it together or get out by my landlord.
If I can get a foothold I truly still believe things can work.
To be honest, I am feeling weak, tired, and overwhelmed by the laundry list of mistakes, mishaps, missteps and that never-ending feeling of sinking. I am trying so hard to keep my chin up.
That house has been my home for 36 years and it’s just a small, humble, little brick rancher which I have grown to love.
My family has been a tremendous help through all of this, but I don’t expect them to give past their limitations which began to stretch beyond the limit a while ago. My brother is fighting to keep up with his own mortgages and business (he is self-employed also) and taking care of my Mother who has dementia. Other relatives, with whom I am closest, have several health issues as well and simply cannot help anymore.
If you have the desire and the ability to help someone who is actively trying to help themselves, please consider helping me. Please help me to fight for my rights, my life and to keep trying to win battles. I am trying to save my house and my daily life, whatever that may be at this point – a new normal. I certainly don’t have much else left to lose in a literal sense and have been so blessed and received so much already I know I am person changed for the better. I will gladly be spending the rest of my days paying it forward, showing the kindness to others that has been bestowed on me.
God bless you and from the bottom of my heart,
thank you.
joanie
As I was previewing this before posting (which is so hard to do) I noticed that I started trying to do this 5 months ago and have just now been able to post it, unbelievable