Journal of a Living Lady #215
Nancy White Kelly
A stranger wrote me this week. Said his wife was recently diagnosed with cancer. He wanted to know how much it cost to treat cancer. That is like asking how much does it cost to go to the moon. I am sure he was genuinely concerned for his wife’s health. He was understandably anxious about the financial devastation that often accompanies serious illness.
Medicare and the insurance companies would go out of business if they had many patients with a medical history like mine. One day in my oncologist office usually runs in the neighborhood of five-thousand dollars. That is for the office visit, the chemotherapy administered over several hours, and the lab work. I was initially diagnosed with breast cancer in 1986 and then had a recurrence in the late 1990’s. Each episode has consisted of innumerable visits to doctors, lengthy hospital stays, and several CAT scans, MRI’s, and blood transfusions. Oh, I can’t forget the prescriptions. There have been many days I downed a dozen or more pills. The overall cost for me has exceeded a million dollars. I am still in treatment and probably will be for the rest of my life.
How much does cancer cost? Who can say? If Buddy and I could recoup the travel expense alone, at the prevailing IRS rate of 37.5 cents a mile, we could probably buy a service station.
Is it worth the expense it to add a few years to your life? Most of us would vote, yes. I know my Buddy well enough to be certain that money would not be an object of consideration for more than a few seconds.
While Buddy’s formal education wouldn’t put his resume’ at the top of the heap, I wouldn’t trade him for any PhD I know. He routinely, and often intentionally, butchers the English language. After nearly 39 years, I still laugh at his spontaneous comedy. Yet, bottom line, nothing obscures the fact that Buddy is a man of deep spiritual faith.
I am prepared for the hereafter, but it is the here and now that I struggle with the most. Thankfully the million dollars-plus spent on my behalf hasn’t been all out of pocket. Much of it has though. That amount is staggering.
There are insurance premiums, drug co-pays, deductibles and balances. Without cancer, Buddy and I might have enjoyed more discretionary income. In retrospect, we wonder how we raised a house full of children and provided college tuition. Like most parents, we still help when needs arise. Buddy and I are one of those “fixed-income” households, just a few notches up from the government’s designated poverty level. Even our rare dabbling in part-time tasks doesn’t explain the monetary gap.
The only answer is that God is faithful to his promise to his children to exceedingly and abundantly supply our needs according to his riches in heaven. Buddy and I lack for nothing.
We are alive. We have food. We have a warm place to sleep. We have loved ones and friends. No, cancer hasn’t bankrupted us financially. Only rarely has it dampened our spirits. We are just travelers passing through this ole world, hoping to leave a lasting legacy totally unrelated to money.
nancyk@alltel.net
