We finally began our new chemo treatment, after two weeks of sorting out where we could get the prescription filled for our usual $10 co-pay, rather than the laughable $800 we were quoted. Her new drug is Etoposide, also called VP-16, and thankfully it comes in pill form. 14 days on, 14 days off. Her confusion has grown, however. Maybe that's not right. It would be more accurate to say that it is more persistent. Fewer moments of lucidity, less understanding when I try to set things straight. I promised her at the beginning I would never lie to her and play along with her delusions, but I've caught myself doing it once or twice in the last month. I'm not sure if there is any way to judge whether that is right or wrong.
She's also more emotional. She thinks about her death fairly often and worries what will happen to me. Before, I was frustrated that she didn't seem to grasp her prognosis. Now I wish she was still in that place of blissful ignorance. In two weeks she has another MRI, at which time I will finally corner our neuro-oncologist and get a straight answer about a timeframe. I know she's going downhill. I just need to know how much time we have.
And the hits keep on coming. Today we got our letter from Blue Cross Blue Shield NC describing our ACA-compliant plan for next year. Her premium and office copays nearly double and her deductible has gone up by $1500. No problem! We just will have to cut...well....oh wait. There's nothing to cut. We already live beyond our means despite pinching every penny. I suppose that if we stop eating we can afford her insurance. We're eligible for a subsidy it seems, but applying involves the new ACA website, and it has been having issues, to put it lightly.
Oh, and the government shut down. Grow up.
I've always loved this Dali painting. It's sad and inspiring, ridiculous and sincere. It seemed appropriate.
Image: Salvador Dali's "The Elephants," 1948, link.
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