The (exhorbitant) cost of complementary therapies and a few ways to offset the cost

Tired-of-Expensive-Medical-Bills-Change-is-on-the-way

Updated 11 July 2016

I’ve noticed a lot of fundraising being done for people with Stage 4 cancer.  I understand that not everyone wants to sell or re-mortgage their house, or take out a loan, or run up huge bills on credit cards, or maybe they’ve already done so and have reached the limits of borrowing, or they’ve got families to think about and support and can’t stretch their finances any further.  Or maybe they just can’t imagine borrowing money in case they die.  But what I’ve noticed is that some of these people with Stage 4 who are fundraising, is well, by the time they meet their targets, it’s taken a month … two months (if they’re lucky) … and then they die before the money comes in because the cancer has become more aggressive and advanced.  What I want to say is:  if you’re Stage 4, don’t wait for the target to be reached.  Go now.  Time is critical if you’re Stage 4.  Run up the credit card bills.  Buy yourself that precious time.  And in the meanwhile, yes, fundraise like crazy.  Because the longer you live, the more money you will need to keep the cancer in remission.

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When I first started out with using complementary therapies as a means to heal myself of the cancer, I hadn’t realised it was going to be so expensive.

I understand that practitioners with skill and expertise should be fairly rewarded for their service, so before you jump into the world of complementary therapies, please note that complementary therapies are not as cheap as allopathic medicine because complementary practitioners believe that they can charge a fair market rate.  Often this equates what a doctor would charge in private practice.  Unlike free treatment on the NHS, all complementary therapies must be paid for out of your own pocket.

I’ll give you a quick idea of how expensive treatments can be.

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What I did next

I wish I could say that I was cool and calm when I got the diagnosis.  I probably looked cool and calm because when I’m really stressed I retreat into a no-feeling land and turn into a robot.

So it was a robot that faced the doctor, and all I could do was look down the notebook I had and ask him questions and write down his answers, cursing my shaky hand.  I have always taken copious notes, and this habit was to stand me in good stead in the months ahead.  If anything it gave me something to do, otherwise wound up like a tight spring, I would have burst into tears.

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