History comes alive

History – in swirls of red,  yellow, blue, green, black and more – lined the walls of the church yesterday.

My home church celebrated its annual Kirkin’ O’ The Tartan, a reminder of the Presbyterian church’s roots in Scotland. Last year, I donated a Munro tartan to the church to be carried in the ceremony.

For the second year, I carried that Munro tartan in the procession of the tartans. We followed a band of bagpipes and drums, a man carrying a cross and the beadle, who carried a historic Bible published in 1867 and used initially by a pre-runner to our church.

I felt like I was becoming a little part of that history as I marched it and then marched out. We dipped the banners to the cross right before we left for the outward procession. What an honor it was to join others in this event.

And, best of all, my mother came to church. She has been twice in the past two months. It’s a shame that she has so much trouble because she really misses the services and the people.

The cost of health

I can’t believe how arrogant I have been – I actually thought I understand the financial strain that health care can place on a person or family.

I had no idea. I still probably have no real idea of what that financial burden can be.

The medicine prescribed for my inflammatory arthritis costs $3,000 a month – without insurance. At first my insurance company said they wouldn’t cover it. The doctor’s office intervened and I can have coverage. Now I pay ONLY $790 a month – for a disease that will progress but does not cause me any pain at present. I would immediately be thrown into the doughnut hole – although I would also quickly spend out of i.

My decision: I’m not going to spend the money. What good is it if I have no money for anything else in life. It’s not like I’m turning my back on the disease. I am taking a different medicine that may not be as helpful. But it’s something. (And I’m scared of it, too. But at least I can afford it.)

What would happen to someone who has no real choices? Would the drug never be suggested to them. Would they end up in bankruptcy. After all my share of the drug would be my house payment.

Health care costs are totally out of control. We need to put some type of brake on increases and figure out how to roll the prices back. It’s not like our healthcare system does such a wonderful job of keeping  us all healthy and fit.

Fear of the unknown

I’m scared.

A visit to the doctor – just to confirm I had arthritis – turned into something more. Turns out I have osteoarthritis in my thumbs as expected. I also have psoriatic arthritis, an inflammatory type, in my middle finger on both hands.

Well, that’s not good news,  but I can live with that.

Turns out the initial medicine is a really low-dose chemotherapy drug. Now that, folks, is scary. It means my immune system will be depressed. But if I do nothing (as I have been doing for five years or more), the arthritis will progress and could cause finger deformity.

So I’m going with the medicine – soon.

Before I started it, I had a shingles vaccine. Since that uses a live virus, I couldn’t do it after I started the meds. And I watched my mother deal with shingles last year. It’s no fun.

But who knows when to start. A nurse said a week after the shot. The pharmacist who gave me the shot said two weeks. The druggist at my pharmacy looked it up and said three months and call your doctor. I called the doctor Friday and have not heard from him yet.

So right now, I’m doing nothing. The shingles vaccine is working its magic (I hope) and meds are still at the drugstore. I guess I’ll hear from the doctor next week.

It’s not like I’m in pain or anything. I just don’t want it to get worse.

So right now, I’m waiting. We’ll see where I go from here.