BC Becky

Never thought I'd want to be a breast cancer survivor

Tag: insurance

  • Bilateral Mastectomies

    A friend sent me an email with a recent article in the New York Times about the prevalence of bilateral mastectomies entitled “The Wrong Approach to Breast Cancer“.

    I read the article with much interest but also much distain. There are several issues that are not addressed in the article, but it also highlights some important trends and issues in breast cancer treatment. Let me start by sharing a couple of acronyms that will make this discussion easier – BMX stands for bilateral mastectomy, and PMX stands for prophylactic (i.e. preventative) mastectomy.

    I also need to point out that the discussion is not about women with be BRCA1/BRCA2 breast cancer genes. Some useful statistics: 12% of women in the general population develop breast cancer, of these, up to 5-10% (yes hazy statistic there) MAY have an abnormal BRCA gene. For this small percentage of women, the likelihood of breast (80%+) and ovarian (25%+) cancers is huge. Prophylactic surgery for these women brings peace of mind.

    The NYTimes article highlights that PMX is unnecessary as it does not improve survival rates. The article highlights the over-use of this choice. What the article doesn’t say is that one of the reasons so many women choose PMX is that they are sold on the ease of reconstruction. In the US, if a women has breast cancer, insurance is required to pay not only for treatments but also for reconstruction (I was told this at my very first surgical visit the DAY I was told I had cancer). A women from the UK commented that she was required to see a psychiatrist because she did not want reconstruction. The pressure to reconstruct is huge, but also, the way in which is it is sold is also misleading. The potential complications are understated.

    The NYTimes article talks about statistics but does not take into account mental health. The far majority of breast cancers occur in only one breast (I’m an oddity). In many cases, women have the first breast removed, but then choose the PMX for the second breast. In some cases this is because of fear of cancer returning, as stated in the article, but in other cases it is because the women have difficulty living lopsided. The lack of symmetry becomes a constant nagging reminder of the cancer. It can be too much for some women. There are many women who are very happy about their choice of PMX and reconstruction, and many women who are happy about their choice for PMX and no reconstruction. What concerns me about this article is that it research stated like this gives insurance companies a reason to NOT do the surgery, when it may be in the best interest of the individual. Mental health and quality of live after surgery are two variables that are not considered.

    I’m concerned for women who have PMX because they are sold on the ease of reconstruction, but I’m also concerned about potentially denying PMX for women whose quality of life will be significantly improved by it.

    My personal case is different. I don’t qualify as a statistic in most studies because the nature of bilateral disease is not understood, but also because it is not very common. I have multi-focal cancers in my left breast (two tumors in different parts of the breast – the first is the one I felt (invasive ductal carcinoma, IDC grade 3 about 4cm), the second is DCIS (stage 0 non-invasive). In my right breast I have about a 2cm mass IDC grade 2 (it could not be felt and was found by a very good radiologist). So for some unknown reason my body suddenly started to grow breast cancer – and it did it quickly in multiple places. For me, the right choice is a BMX. It is not prophylactic, as I am not doing it to prevent a cancer from occurring. The cancer is already there.

    I could have a lumpectomy to remove the three areas – but then I would need radiation treatments (I might still need them). I would need to have mammograms and maybe even breast MRIs every 6 months for the rest of my life. I would need to go through biopsies every time they found something suspicious, and any shadow would be considered suspicious because of my history. I would also be so very oddly deformed, with both breasts being different sizes and shapes. I would have a constant battle with body image. For me, this would lead to a terrible quality of life. I don’t want to live having to constantly worry about how I looked or when the next doctors appointment would be. It is bad enough to go through that during active treatment, I don’t want that to be my life after treatment.

    I love the idea of being flat and having choices. What I hope for most is that my breast surgeon does a good job and I have nice clean scars. Then I can choose to wear foobs if I want an outfit to look a certain way, but I can also choose to not wear anything on a hot sunny day. I love the idea of a bra free life! To be honest, I rarely wear one now – but I’m finding that with all the insults to my breasts (biopsies and chemo) that I need to start wearing one more often, as they need to be supported.

    What I really want to say about the NY Times article is that breast cancer treatment is an individual choice. Statistics can be useful in helping us make a choice, but the right choice is an individual one. For some women a PBX is the right choice, even if there is no statistical advantage to it, for others it is not. I get a bit insulted when the article assumes that women are making choices that are “not truly necessary” and assume that the doctor knows best, when the doctor isn’t the one having to live with the decision.

  • The pains with the American system

    Having decent insurance has made most of the process of cancer treatment go smoothly. You’d have thought with a week of advance notice, it would all be figured out … but not so much.

    The chemo went well today – well seems like an odd word to use w.r.t chemo – it went, I’m feeling a little stressed (just took something for that). Don’t think I’m feeling any nausea, but I’m not sure if worrying about nausea is causing nausea or if I’m actually feeling nausea .. so we will wait until the anti-anxiety meds kick in and then decide if I need / want another anti-nausea pill. I have several options, so all is good.

    Talked to the oncologist about medical marijuana. The oncologist didn’t see any problem with it, but he couldn’t write the prescription (against Stanford policy). He did warn us of dosage issues – in that you often cannot accurately measure the dosage (very dependent on where you get it). Nor can my family doc – although my family doc suggested I see one of the various “pain” docs who do write the prescriptions. It is a bit of a game, but we have followed the rules so far. Next step is to find someone to write the prescription. Some of the docs that write the prescription also issue “cards” which is all you need to purchase marijuana at one of the many local dispensaries (indicated by a green cross) – however, there is also an official card that one can get from Santa Clara county for $150 after the doctors note. Some dispensaries/collective actually test the stuff to make sure they label the dosage correctly – others, not so much. Honestly, right now we are just setting things in motion, so that if it becomes needed it is an option. I’m worried about the side effects of the anti-anxiety drugs (they can be habit forming) – so alternatives might make more sense. We’ll see.

    On the other side of things, I’m supposed to get a neulasta shot tomorrow – which is used to boost the white blood cell count. My insurance company won’t approve me going to Stanford for the shot – rather, I’m supposed to do it myself. It is a subcutaneous (in between skin and fat) injection, which is similar to how one gives insulin, so Scott is rather familiar with the process. My chemo nurse at Stanford gave us a lesson on how to do it. It is actually going to be more convenient for us this way, as it means that Scott can give it to me after work, rather than having to take more time off to drive up to Stanford for a simple needle.

    The problem is getting the actual medication. Stanford put the order into my pharmacy but the insurance wouldn’t go through (the neulasta shots are about $4000 each). So they called Stanford who tried to get it approved, only to be told that we needed to make the request (so it couldn’t be made on behalf of us), we called, to be told that there is no pre-authorization, so Stanford needs to call to do the pre-authorization (and get an urgent pre-auth done). Once we hear that the pre-auth is done, Scott needs to call back Express Scripts and have a supervisor do an override (which may also need insurance authorization). Once we get the override, then our local pharmacy can fill the prescription. However, this all needs to happen before 8pm tonight as the pharmacy doesn’t stock neulasta, so they need to order it today so that it arrives by mid-day tomorrow.

    If we don’t get the insurance approval until tomorrow, we will need to find a pharmacy that actually stocks neulasta (either Stanford or hopefully one at the Palo Alto Medical Foundation, as they are closer).

    One way or another it will happen … just a lot more drama than I would have liked. Not sure why this pre-auth requirement didn’t surface sooner as they have known for over a week that I was starting chemo today. But, as the saying goes, ‘it is what it is’ … we shall deal with it.

  • The calm and then the storm

    Yesterday was one of those calm then stormy days. It began with a breakfast meeting with a new friend, whom I met through the social network myBCTeam.com.  It turns out that we have a lot in common, and I think we would find ourselves as friend regardless of the cancer connection. She has a wealth of knowledge around breast cancer and resources available, which I’m sure will prove to be very helpful. I never thought that having breast cancer would be the thing that made it easier for us to meet people in California.

    I had not heard anything from Stanford until the afternoon. Then I got a call from interventional radiology. These are the folks that place the port. I now have that booked for Thursday. They use twilight sedation, similar to what they do with cataract surgery. They use a small incision (exactly what small means is definitely relative) to place a port directly into the vein. The port lives under the skin, so once the incision is healed I can swim and shower/bath without worry.

    Shortly thereafter I had a call from my oncologist (MO). He suggested that I could start chemo as early as Thursday – right after the port is placed. His call had woken me up from a pretty sound nap, so I was not even sure how to answer. I had to first answer the question of ‘which chemo’. I decided on AC-T. I had a gut feel about that one from the beginning. The MO said it was the one that about 80% of women who need chemo for hormone positive breast cancer get (this means they understand the side effects and how to treat them). Also, shortly after making that decision, my second oncologist confirmed that is the one she would recommend. So, I’ve heard from multiple sources that it is the right choice – and it feels like the right choice. So, both quantitative me and qualitative me agree on this one.

    I decided that I will not start chemo on Thursday even if it is an option (it still needs to clear insurance). It is all too fast, and I need to be mentally and physically prepared. Mostly, I need to ensure I’m well hydrated for a couple of days before and the placing of the port with twilight sedation means fasting prior to – so pretty the opposite of what my body needs.

    So, if I start on Monday it will go something like this (assuming there are no issues that cause breaks):

    June 30 – AC
    July 14 – AC (on this regime, hair typically falls out after second treatment, grows back during T)
    July 28 – AC
    Aug 11 – AC
    Aug 25 – T weekly for 12 weeks (until November 10)

    Some people are completely tired/fatigued during chemo. Others continue to work throughout. Apparently getting regular exercise helps to reduce the side effects, so I shall be trying to get out for walks and regular bike rides although perhaps not climbing too many mountains. Fortunately the paths near here are pretty flat. If my balance goes, we’ll look into renting or buying a used trike … we’ll make this happen!

    After that, there is a break for recovery before surgery. We are thinking a week or two on the big island in Hawaii! Last time we went to the Big Island (in 2006) we wanted to rent a VW camper van, but couldn’t because our Canadian car insurance would only cover continental US and we couldn’t find anyplace to buy insurance. Now that we have US car insurance, we’ll look into that option again.

     

  • Caution – this one talks a bit about death …

    First off, I must start this with a couple of pictures from my beautiful ride up Mount Hamilton this afternoon. It took me 2 hours to climb the 7 miles (not quite 11km) of all up hill.
    Photo & Video Sharing by SmugMug

    Photo & Video Sharing by SmugMug

    Throughout the climb I found myself stopping in shaded corners to both catch my breath and cry.  When I think about what is to come, I put on a brave face, but I still find myself crying at certain thoughts.

    When I was first diagnosed, I was struck by how some things get clear. When we were creating our wills before we went on our Going East bike tour (http://goingeast.ca), I didn’t think I like the idea of my body being used for research. Now, I definitely want my body to be used for research or medical education. I think my time working with doctors and doing research has changed my opinion on this. I also have clarity as to where I’d like my ashes spread – over the molten lava on Hawaii’s big island. These are things that I couldn’t figure out before, but now just seem to make sense. They weren’t big decisions.

    I also decided that I don’t really want to know my prognosis. Prognosis is a statistical measurement of your likelihood to survive. I don’t really care about that statistic, as the only measure that matters to me is me, and no statistic can tell me that.

    Where statistics are handy is in deciding treatment options. When we know that two options have the same outcome (statistically) then it is truly a choice as to which feels right.

    I got recommendation from the PAMF tumor board. They are recommending chemo first regardless of my HER2 status. Chemo would start within two weeks. They need to know HER2 status to figure out the chemo mix. It also takes about a week to get approvals from the insurance company. I think everyone thinks the HER2 will come back positive. Prior to any chemo I would need a sentinel node biopsy on both sides and to have a mediport installed (not sure installed it the right word … I called it a portal the other day … the idea is that they surgically insert a device that allows direct access to a vein for chemo and other medications that are given by IV – with a port I won’t need to get stuck every time someone needs to give me medication).

    We meet with the oncologist and surgeon at Stanford for their recommendations on Monday. By then we should have the HER2 status. If it is positive, then I think everyone will agree that it is sentinel node biopsy followed by chemo.

    HER2 is a bit of a mixed blessing. It is associated with increase morbidity, but the treatments for it have changed a lot. They have completely new regimes which are providing to be very effective (form what I understand) – so the morbidity statistic may be based on old treatments, and the new treatments haven’t caught up yet … not sure, will need to do some more research. Whatever the outcome, we shall adapt and move forward as it is the only direction to go!

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