Sue's Story

The day Hurricane Rita hit Southeast Texas is the day time stood still. Suddenly, no one had to be anywhere, anytime soon. All appointments, scheduled events, plans became moot.

However, some of us found ourselves with a little more to deal with than just the conditions of our homes and businesses.

My home received about six inches of water, so we tore out the carpet and laminate flooring. We also cut the drywall from the floor to two feet up and tore it out. The mess was appalling. The process of filing insurance claims is demanding, and without air conditioning, telephone service or gas to drive anywhere, I most certainly felt overwhelmed.

About two weeks after the storm, I was showering. I discovered a lump in my breast. Interestingly and ironically, October is National Breast Cancer Awareness Month, and under normal conditions, I would have had no problem finding a way to get a mammogram, with or without insurance.

I didn't have insurance and since that time, many friends and even strangers have asked me how I managed to find the great care I ultimately received. This is as good an opportunity as any other to encourage people not to despair and to ponder whether or not there really is a healthcare crisis in our country.

In my case, I was employed part time at a small museum as the curator. My decision to work part time was well considered and is what prevents many people from receiving benefits like health insurance. However, I took the risk believing that as a single mother of a son with no father, I needed to be as available to him as possible. I also used my spare time to finish a degree I had started years ago. I graduated in August with a bachelor of fine arts, a month before the hurricane.

I made an appointment with East Houston Regional Hospital for a mammogram. The mammogram didn't show anything unusual, but because a lump could clearly be felt, they performed an ultrasound, which did show what appeared to be a suspicious mass. I was advised by the hospital's doctor to seek further tests. The bill totaled about $200. Very reasonable, I thought.

Next I decided to research all my options, because I was somehow sure there were some. The first thing to be determined is if I qualified for indigent health care. Hardin County Indigent Healthcare Services representative Donna Miller described their purpose."We are a state mandated, county funded healthcare program for people with little or no income," she said. "We are similar to Medicaid because we contract with local physicians and pharmacies. We do not treat minors, only adults."Eligibility is determined by the Federal Poverty Guidelines established each year.

I learned I didn't qualify for the County's assistance, so I applied for assistance directly with the University of Texas Medical Branch Galveston. At my level of income, they answered in a letter, I would qualify for 50 percent assistance.

I scheduled a biopsy and arrived at the appointed time. The procedure was only mildly uncomfortable, but did take several hours to complete. I was instructed to check with the U.T.M.B. Clinic in Beaumont for the results within the next two weeks. I think waiting for answers was the worst part of my experience.

I was diagnosed with breast cancer, and the bills I received for my 50 percent totaled about $1,600. A very kind representative from the American Cancer Center suggested I call M.D. Anderson Cancer Center. I did and was referred to Kaye Wade of the Patient Assistance Service for the Nelly B. Conally Breast Center at M.D.A. She said I could apply for supplemental financial assistance and would have to complete a lengthy application. The first page requires the patient to first phone Chamberlain-Edmonds, an organization that screens applicants who do not live in Harris County, where M.D. Anderson is located, to determine if they qualify for any other programs. "

As part of the process in determining the eligibility of someone requesting assistance," said Wade, "the patient's physical condition plays a large part. If their diagnosis is serious and requires immediately attention, that will certainly impact the final determination."I was notified within two weeks that I qualified for 100 percent assistance. I was greatly relieved.

My first appointment was with the breast surgeon, followed by an appointment with an oncologist. Several tests were scheduled, and M.D. Anderson nearly became a second home.I began chemotherapy at the end of November, which continued for six months. I was treated like a queen and given a private room with a television. If the appointment fell around lunch time, a little waiter would arrive to ask if I’d like lunch. I was served, and if I couldn’t finish, I’d take the rest home to my son.

I’m grateful that I didn’t suffer much during chemo. I had no nausea, mouth sores, and was only tired. My son began to make coffee for me in the mornings to make it easier for me to get up and take him to school. (He still makes me coffee.)

I lost my hair around January. The wispy strands that stubbornly remained I finally shaved off. Before leaving the bathroom with my new ‘do’, I asked my son if he was ready to see me.“No,” he said and held a pillow to his face. It really only took him about 20 minutes to get used to my new appearance, but I had a harder time than I expected. Each time I passed a mirror and caught sight of my reflection, I was startled. A dear friend suggested I prop a mirror on an easel and draw my own portrait. I did. I spent about six hours studying my image, translated it to paper, and had come to terms with being bald. I recently entered the drawing in the BAL National Exhibition and won first place. The whole world can see me at my worst, if that’s what I was, but I needed more than chemotherapy to get through the experience. I have included the image in this submission. It is titled Therapy.

Surgery was scheduled for late June. A mastectomy was my only recourse, so I opted for a bilateral. When I woke, I was surrounded by friends and family. My aunts and mother had planned to care for me after my release from the hospital. For the next two days, I dozed, only opening my eyes long enough to see one of my aunts’ heads peeking at me from the doorway.

Recovery is what it is, and with only a couple of problems to address, I was scheduled for breast reconstruction with the plastic surgeon at M.D. Anderson.

Today I'm cancer free, still taking my medications, and nearly finished with reconstruction. I return to M.D. Anderson for regular checkups. I can only estimate my out of pocket expenses throughout my adventure, but I'm quite sure that I got my money's worth.

Facing my own mortality was cathartic. I’ve returned to living a normal life with a newly developed sense of appreciation for family, friends and people in general. Not much gives me greater pleasure than to comfort another victim of breast cancer.