Peek-a-Boo!

Yes, this IS the old Ann, poking my head up above ground cautiously like a groundhog on Feb. 2. I don’t see my shadow, so I’m predicting pleasant weather ahead. I’m happy to say that my optimism and faith are almost back to where they were before I got my recent diagnosis. In a recent post, I talked about wanting to find my sparkle again — my spark. I’m not sure about the sparkle – you’d have to ask others about that. However, I can say the spark is back. And that’s important. Emmet Fox, a New Thought leader, once said, “A small spark can start a great fire.” We know that to be true (just ask Smokey the Bear!), so I’m not going to underestimate that little light.

I’ve had so many people prop me up during the last month while I tried to restore the optimism and faith I had before my last doctor’s visit. Many of them have told me stories of people they know who have defied the odds, and they have insisted that I have it in me to be another one of those success stories. Such encouragement has made a huge difference. I’m focusing less on the things I might miss down the road if the doctor’s prognosis is correct and more on all I have in front of me right now. A dear friend of mine has always said that it’s OK to attend a pity party, as long as you don’t stay for dessert (shout-out to YO!). Well, I had not only been staying for dessert, but also staying so long that the hosts were looking at their watches. I’m back to enjoying appetizers only.

As I mentioned in a previous post, I don’t want this precious time when I’m feeling well to be squandered. I’ve been trying to spend my time constructively . . . enjoying time with friends; planning the next road trip; advising my students for next semester; participating in the Relay for Life on my campus; and, of course, writing. I’ve been practical, too. Although I love and respect my current oncology team, I’ve been persuaded to seek a second opinion and, logically, that is sound advice. It is not as easy as it seems, though. There have been obstacles, such as the rarity of my cancer and the scarcity of the experts who treat it, as well as insurance restrictions. Emails and phone calls to Johns Hopkins in Baltimore and Dana-Farber in Boston went unanswered. A trip to Cancer Treatment Centers of America’s facility in Philadelphia looked promising until my HMO insurance said “no.”

Frustrated by the doors closing at every turn and feeling adrift at sea in a tiny boat being overtaken by raging storms, my sister took a walk to clear her mind and calm her spirit. During her stroll, she said she became assured that everything would be OK and, that day, everything did, indeed, turn around. She relayed this in the last post, “Walking on Water.” In her post, my sister said, “Then almost as if by magic, the boat landed immediately at the place to where they were going.” Who knew it would be the Big Apple?! What seemed to be an insurmountable quest to find someone, someplace, to look at my case has finally been successful, in no small part, we believe, to the prayers many of you have been lifting up on my behalf.

After her walk that Tuesday, my sister reached out to the chief of sarcoma oncology at Memorial Sloan Kettering in New York City, the world’s oldest and largest private cancer center. He responded immediately to say his staff would review my case. The next morning, his assistant forwarded me information on what to do next. Sloan Kettering’s Patient Access Services started a medical record for me and told me exactly what files they needed from my current oncologist (and there were a lot!). Then I was switched to the insurance representative who gave me detailed information on how to appeal to my insurance company for “out-of-network” treatment. By Wednesday afternoon, I had done everything I had been told. My physician faxed the appeal to the insurance company Thursday morning, and it was approved a few hours later. At 4 p.m., approximately 48 hours after my sister returned from her walk, Sloan Kettering called me to say that they had received all my files and gave me an appointment. As I write this, I’m on the train to New York City. If anything is a miracle, it’s when two doctors’ offices, two large cancer centers, and an insurance company work together and achieve this outcome in two days!

I’m sorry this post has been especially lengthy. However, as you can see, much has happened in a short time, and I want you to know the difference you’re making by continuing to lift me up in prayer.

Share the strength.

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