Tag Archives: Spoonie

Why the chronically ill in your life are currently terrified…

Did you know Trump nearly got rid of the Affordable Care Act during his first time in office? What stopped him? Congress.
Now, it’s looking like Congress will largely be on his side.

So the chances of the Affordable Care Act surviving the next four years is very small.

This is why this is terrifying to me, and all the other chronically ill cuties in your lives.

My monthly IVIG infusions cost about $12,000 each. I get two of them a month. My insurance company spends about $250,000.00 per year, just on my IVIG. There is zero chance I could afford those treatments on my own.
I’m also on 6 other medications to manage my symptoms. Without insurance they would cost me about $1300 per month on their own.

Understand, every single one of these treatments and medications are directly related to my two diagnosed conditions, which would be considered pre-existing conditions without the ACA in place.

Also understand that I haven’t even mentioned the visits to the specialists I work with (between $300 and $500 per visit without insurance), the medical testing they need to do ($1500.00 per test on average), hospital stays for when my body simple stops working as it should ($12,000 on average per night), and emergency visits for those unexpected medical doozys that are a part of a chronically ill person’s existence (Average $2,600).

If the ACA is destroyed I can’t survive in this country. I would cost me nearly $350,000.00 to treat my conditions, per year. Without these medications and treatments I will die.

I don’t mean in a slow and grinding way either, I will likely unalive myself. The amount of pain and discomfort I am in without these treatments is so immense I cannot hold out for long.

For example, the last time we stopped IVIG (as a test to see how well it was working) I experienced the sensation of bugs crawling all over my body – including on my eyeballs – 24/7 for days. I told my doctors it was the symptom that was going to kill me. I spent several days trying not to scratch my own eyes out while ants continuously crawled out of them.

I also have body and head pain that leaves me in bed, in the dark, with no sound on resting on ice packs for days at a time.

Without medication, that’s my life.

Without IVIG my disease gets worse faster, my nerve endings die more quickly, my pain increases, my weakness increases, and I lose even more of the limited abilities I do have remaining.

So this is why we are terrified. We all have a story like the one above. We all have endless treatments and medications, tests and doctors visits, hospital stays and expenses. We all have unlivable conditions without those treatments and medications. Even with them we have managed to carve the best life we can out of a prison of pain.

Trump wants to take away everything that keeps us safe. He wants to let insurance companies refuse to cover the medical conditions that plague our lives because their profit margin (already between 3.22% and 10%) is somehow more important than our lives.

Goblin Mode – not just OED’s word of the year.

It’s the holiday season and I want to crawl into a cave and hide from everyone I know.

It’s not you, it’s me.

I’m serious. You’ve done nothing wrong. It really is me. My inner goblin has been greedily grasping at everyone solitary moment I’ve been able to muster for the past month.

Her hunger is becoming insatiable. She wants to wander around a vacant room in no bra, loose workout clothes that are so soft with age they are practically see through, and soft socks so thick I’d have to buy shoes a size up to wear them out of the house.

She wants to binge-watch shows for days at a time or listen to whole books on tape without stopping for a single conversation.

She wants to go entire days without uttering a single word aloud.

As the days tick by to the greediest, gift-givingest day of them all my inner goblin is taking me over and urging me to run and hide and become one with my sheets and blankets. She turns my eyes from the sunlight peering through the window in the morning and pushes the phone away from me when a text comes through.

She is drooling for a chance to disappear.