Preparations for plan D (or was it plan C) are in full swing and not as straight forward as expected. After almost six years of running this small business enterprise of living with a chronic illness, I am still at the beginner's stage it seems. This morning, when I told one of the many perfectly polite but incompetent (believe me, I can judge that by now) creatures on the hotline of my health insurance that I want to order a personal assistant, she laughed her merry little laugh until I told her that I was serious. I listed all the paperwork, the travel arrangements, the referrals, the appointments with the experts, the endless lab tests, the parking for godssake, etc.
Well, she told me to get a grip and try yoga. If I enrol in a class before the end of the year, I can apply for a 50% discount provided I fill in forms 17a and 412b which I can download and print out myself before I send them by post. Processing time is only 3-4 weeks, she promised.
I assured her that yoga was on my list of future treatments but that for now I was scheduled for my first day of chimeric monoclonal antibody infusion (a what? she asked) and that needed to figure out how to get to the clinic and back without driving a car or public transport as I have been told that I will be a) too nauseous and b) too sleepy for either and considering the distance . . . but she wouldn't hear of it. Yoga it is.
Or should be. But I am not calm enough. I am all nerves and expectations and what ifs. There are people, experts, who think I have found gold and who believe that I will be health reincarnate with this treatment. Others are a bit more tsk tsk tsk plus the frown. I try not to expect anything - ha! This is of course a childish attitude. So no, all I want right now is healthy gums. That would be enough. No more aching bleeding gum tissue. That would be my idea of heaven right now.