Tick-tock

Three days until my surgery. I feel pretty good right now, but I will be freaking out more than likely Wednesday morning.
Picking up where I left off last time...it sort of sounds like I won't be able to get out of radiation. They just have to be sure that all the cancer is gone (since I had two different kinds of breast cancer). However, since radiation has to be every day for 6 weeks with no break, they won't start until I get back from Hawaii the middle of December. So, I will have plenty of time to heal from the mastectomy before they start radiation. Then, reconstruction can't start for at least six months after radiation, to allow time for the tissue to heal.
I've consulted with three plastic surgeons, and have pretty much decided to go the route of a tram-flap. I'm not interested in implants and having something foreign in my body. The tram-flap is way more involved however. They will move tissue and from my abdominal area to form a new breast. It's a 6-8 hour operation, with a three to six week recovery because you're cut in two places. But that's way off right now. I just have to get through Wednesday and the next few weeks of being very sore.
My psychological well-being changes from day to day. Thursday was horrible. I've been going along, hoping to God that my insurance company wouldn't "drop the other shoe," and sure as shit they did. Bastards.
Remember in the beginning I opted to take part in a clinical trial? I did this to help womankind, and do my part to end this horrible disease. Nowhere, absolutely nowhere in my insurance stuff does it say anything about clinical trials. Well, they are saying that somewhere in the fine print in the company's employee handbook that it says they won't cover treatment under a clinical trial. What that means is they are threatening not to cover the chemotherapy which I couldn't even tell you what that adds up to.
Suffice it to say, I was devastated. I cried my eyes out, threw my cell phone, but now I'm just plain pissed. First off, I was never on any experimental drugs. Turned out I was the control person, so I had the standard protocol. Second, any extra tests they did, MRI's and so on, were not even billed to the insurance company. I told them that. Doesn't seem to matter - the fine print, is what it is. I totally do not have the strength to fight this alone, and I'm not. I've got people on it - the gal that represents Sound Publishing to the insurer, the social worker, my editor, and most importantly, Barry, the research nurse.
He called me late Friday and said he talked to the assholes at First Choice (my insurance company) and he said, "man, are they mean." He and Dr. Kaplan have never heard of this happening, or even seen it. He knows how afraid I am of going broke over this, and he told me, (and we'll wait and see), that they are going to squeeze whatever they can out of First Choice and then Swedish will pick up the rest. God, did that make my weekend more relaxing.
Still, I must say, insurance companies are all a bunch of crooks in my opinion. They sweet talk you, take your money, and then try to stick it to you. This country sucks when it comes to health care.
Nonetheless, I had a great weekend for a change. Friday night was the Washington Newpapers Association awards banquet, in Everett this year, so a bunch of us went. I had entered six stories, and I won second place in "News of the Weird" for a story I did about a human skull that was found at an estate sale. Figures, I'd win in the weird category! But it was a fun time. Then last night, my old pal Linell, who I have known since the 7th grade, and a friend of hers, Pat, met me for a lovely dinner at Etta's. They bought me an early birthday dinner, so that was very sweet. Pat is a survivor, and had some valuable advice for me. I was so grateful. Then I met up with my pal Isaac for a couple of drinks, and we got caught up, which was a lot of fun. And, I had a good massage yesterday, too.
So, this insurance thing is really bugging me. But they picked the wrong person to fuck with. I've worked my whole life. I'll be 55 on Tuesday. They are not going to ruin my life.