When my Nurse Navigator from the Women’s Care Center called to say my biopsies had revealed cancer, she asked me a question I had no idea how to answer. “What surgeon do you want to use?”

When that question was met with silence, she added, “If you want to keep it local, you could go to…” She mentioned a name and address that meant nothing to me.

Speaking slowly, I said, “If it were you, what surgeon would you choose?” When my question was met with silence, I added, “I don’t know if I’m allowed to ask you that question.”

NN didn’t comment on that but said, “I have your chart here in front of me, and I see that you had a couple of visits with Dr. K while he was at the Women’s Care Center in Hermitage.”

“Oh, I did and I loved him! I was so sad when he left!”

“Well, if your insurance will cover him, he would be a possibility. He’s in Youngstown now. I’ll call you tomorrow to find out what you’ve decided.”

Was this NN’s way of telling me who she would go to without actually saying who she’d go to?

When I called my insurance company, they said Dr. K wasn’t in-network, but they would pay him the same either way. My decision was made.

I texted the information about my decision to our girls and by the time Jennifer stopped in that evening for a hug, she had already Googled Dr. K. “He’s wonderful,” she said. “Everyone loves him.”

The next day I had an appointment with my hairdresser who had recently had breast cancer. She had also gone to the WCC and when I mentioned Dr. K’s name, she said, “I can’t tell you what peace I had when I talked to him. He’s wonderful. You’re on the right path.”

When I got home, I returned my NN’s call and told her I wanted to see Dr. K. She took down the information, then admitted, “Unofficially, if it were me, that’s who I’d go to!”

            I was feeling better and better about my choice.

A day later, I had a sudden issue with my hip and was able to schedule an appointment with my chiropractor. After my treatment, I told him about my diagnosis, and he asked what surgeon I was going to see. When I mentioned Dr. K’s name, his face lit up. “He’s practically part of my family. His brother married my sister. He’s a wonderful person and a great doctor. My mother just walked the same journey you’re walking with Dr. K and did wonderfully well.”

How much more clear could God be that this was the doctor He wanted me to see?

But the following week, I received a call from the Center where Dr. K worked. They wanted me to call my insurance company again because someone within their health system was saying they don’t accept my insurance. She said, “We have no way of knowing if they’ll pay us until we send them a bill.”

My heart dropped to my toes. After all this, was I going to be prevented from seeing the doctor I felt I’d been led to?

I called my insurance company again and explained my dilemma. The representative put me on hold. When she came back, she said, “Dr. K isn’t in-network but we will pay him the same as Medicare would pay him. However, I don’t believe their Center participates with Medicare so they might bill you for any amount over what we pay. It wouldn’t go toward your out-of-pocket deductible.”

My head was spinning as I listened to the insurance representative’s concerns about what going to Dr. K might cost us. When we finished our conversation, I was close to tears as I tried to explain to my husband what had been said.  

He responded, “I want you to go to Dr. K, regardless.”

“But it could end up costing us a bundle of money.”

“We can make payments the rest of our lives if we need to.”

I sighed. “But they might refuse to take us under those circumstances.”

“Then we’ll let them decide. If they’re willing for us to make the appointment, we’ll continue.”

We both had peace about that decision. It was in God’s hands.

TO BE CONTINUED