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How the
NEA-Alaska HealthTrust works for YOU! |
Family, friends and
NEA-Alaska Health Plan
come through for Mat-Su member
Mat-Su teacher Laura
Wick didn’t know it at the time, but her world started falling apart in
February 2005.
That’s when her husband, Stan, first noticed numbness in his hands.
Soon the numbness had spread to his feet, and the rounds of doctor
visits began.
“I was very fatigued,
and I had problems concentrating,” he said. “My worst fear was that I
had multiple sclerosis and would end up in a wheelchair like my
grandfather.
“The doctors ruled that
out, along with diabetes, but they kept telling me they couldn’t find
anything wrong.”
A self-made
businessman, owner of Wick Air in Palmer, Stan Wick is active and
outdoorsy. He’s a pilot, a hunter and fisherman, a coach and hiker.
At least he was until
he got sick. Throughout the summer of 2005 things got worse, and by
October he was in a wheelchair.
Without an answer from
medical doctors, Stan and Laura turned to the internet and alternative
treatment. They learned that working around small planes had elevated
the levels of lead and mercury in Stan’s system. To cleanse the toxins
from his blood, he began chelation therapy.
As an MSEA member,
Laura is a member of the NEA-Alaska Health Plan. The plan does not
cover chelation treatment. But Plan Manager Teri Burke went to bat for
the Wicks and authorized the third party
claims payer EBMS to pay for a limited portion of the treatment costs.
“One of the hardest
things about this,” said Laura, “was having to worry about medical bills
and insurance on top of taking care of Stan—plus my full-time teaching
“Having someone like
Teri here in Alaska to act as an intermediary on our behalf made all the
difference. She was so encouraging and provided so much practical help.
“For example, she
taught me that if a claim is denied to go back and ask, to provide
additional documentation if they need it and do what it takes to get the
expense covered.”
The chelation treatment
was approved for six weeks, contingent on Stan getting better. Instead,
he got much, much worse.
Over the 2005-2006
winter Stan became a quadriplegic, unable to feed himself or make even
the smallest movement on his own. Not surprisingly, depression also
took hold as his illness progressed, and Stan withdrew increasingly from
family and friends.
Family and friends,
however, did not abandon Laura and Stan. Stan’s brother and friends
retrofitted their basement and garage to accommodate Stan’s wheelchair
and provide the workout equipment that he used compulsively as long as
he was able, to try to halt the deterioration of his body.
Stan’s parents helped
care for him while Laura was at school. Their church provided spiritual
support and raised money to help offset some of the enormous medical
costs. Even her students provided comfort and inspiration. [See
accompanying article, ‘The Year of Miracles.’]
And at Laura’s school,
Cottonwood Creek Elementary, and elsewhere around the district
colleagues came through with practical help, cash and moral support.
Throughout the Valley MSEA members donated days to the sick leave bank
so Laura could stay home and care for her husband during the last few
months of the 2005-2006 school year.
From the earliest days
of Stan’s illness, the health plan’s Teri Burke spent a lot of time on
the phone with Laura trying to help her cope. “That’s what I’m here
for,” said Teri. “It’s a critically important part of my job as plan
manager.”
Then came the day last
February when Laura came into the health plan offices in a panic. She
and Stan were both convinced that he was dying. They were already
resigning themselves to his not getting better, already making plans for
how Laura would continue without him.
At this point Teri
stepped in and pushed Laura and Stan to do something they had resisted
doing: going Outside to a regional medical facility for additional
tests and consultations.
“One thing that kept
bothering me,” said Teri, “was that there seemed to be no clear
diagnosis that the paralysis was caused by lead poisoning.”
The plane trip to
Seattle was not nearly as traumatic as Stan had feared. Donations from
their colleagues, church and community made it possible for Stan and
Laura’s two daughters as well as Stan’s parents to accompany them.
At Virginia Mason
Hospital the neurologist did tests and quickly diagnosed Stan’s
illness: an extremely rare form of Guillain-Barre syndrome. With
Guillain-Barre the body’s own immune system attacks the myelin sheath
around the nerves and interferes with the signals that make the body
move.
A devastating disease,
but the good news was—it’s treatable. Stan was checked into the
hospital and treatment began immediately. But there were no guarantees
how much movement he could regain, if any, and the medical staff
declined to raise false hopes.
The first day after
treatment began, Stan raised his arms over his head. He lifted his bowl
and spoon and tray. On the third day he slid from his wheelchair onto
the toilet—weak and shaky but triumphant. Back in Alaska he began
intensive neurological rehabilitation therapy at Providence Alaska
medical center, and again the results were astounding. Six weeks later
he started to walk.
“All my life I’ve been
in shape, always active and athletic,” said Stan, “but nothing ever came
as hard to me as learning to walk again.”
From the parallel bars
to a walker, to a cane, and today to walking almost as well as before.
He’s back at work again and able to do most of what he did before.
“Once a month I spend a
week in Seattle back at Virginia Mason for treatment,” he said, “but
that’s a small price to pay for having my life back.”
As far as lessons from
their ordeal, Laura and Stan have several:
Make sure you
have medical insurance. As a self-employed businessman, Stan
didn’t have insurance, so Laura’s MSEA membership and participation
in the NEA-Alaska Health Plan literally saved Stan’s life.
Don’t wait so
long to go stateside to a regional hospital if it’s necessary
for a definitive diagnosis.
Know that when
you’re sick the mind will play tricks on you, impairing
your judgment and leaving you vulnerable to depression. Recognizing
this up front will help you deal with it.
Having survived their
trial by fire, Stan and Laura are quietly picking up the threads of
their old life. Their days are sweetened by their strengthened faith
and the enduring love of family and friends.
 Though
there are no guarantees, Stan has been told he now has a normal life
expectancy. Stan has set himself a goal for next summer: to run a 10-K
race with his wife and marathon-running daughters.
This summer Laura spent
almost every free moment in her garden, doing healing of her own as she
expanded the rock garden. In August she returned to teaching at her
beloved Cottonwood Creek Elementary.
The
year of miracles
When
school started in August, MSEA member Laura Wick began her 18th
year of teaching by going back to her 4th grade classroom at
Cottonwood Creek Elementary in Wasilla. The Valley-born daughter of
teachers Jo and Gordon Gladson, Laura is also the mother of Valley
teachers Karissa Wick and Kristila Gardner.
“Our
family is the only one we know of that has three generations of teachers
in the Mat-Su Valley,” said Laura. “When you’re a teacher you’re part
of a larger family. I grew up in that family, and so did my daughters.
They wanted that life for themselves, just as I did.”
Laura met
her future husband, Stan, during their senior year at Palmer High, when
she sat behind him in class. He had moved to the Valley with his family
in 1973. This year they celebrated their 31st wedding
anniversary.
As Stan’s
health deteriorated alarmingly over the summer of 2005, Laura began her
school year with a heavy heart—and a heavy load of responsibility. She
was balancing the nearly overwhelming needs of her husband and the
nearly overwhelming needs of her students.
From the
beginning of that year she was open with her students about her
husband’s condition. When they realized the severity of his illness,
the students brought in cookies, cards and inspirational verses from the
Bible.
“This was
something powerful in the children’s lives, to be part of something
bigger than themselves,” said Laura. “To show compassion and comfort an
adult—they learned that they really can make a contribution.”
Ten of her
students were special needs children. As Stan’s condition was spiraling
downward toward near-total paralysis, Laura was making great progress in
her classroom.
“The
special needs students built a model car and made it run, and my
autistic student made a huge breakthrough in speaking and
communication. He actually teased me!”
One dismal
February night Stan fell out of his wheelchair, and Laura had to wrestle
his inert body up two stairs before she succeeded in getting him back in
the chair. Then she left the house at three a.m. to go to her classroom
and prepare lessons for the substitute she knew she would need the next
day.
The
minus-20 temperature had frozen the lock on the gate to the school
parking lot, so Laura rolled under it, humming the “Mission Impossible”
theme under her breath.
Despite
the movie theme, she finally admitted to herself that she could no
longer carry both of her overwhelming responsibilities. She would have
to take leave from her classroom.
“I met
with my students and explained that I didn’t want to leave them but I
had to. I told them not to give up, and to do their best even though I
wouldn’t be with them.”
Despite
her absence, Laura’s colleagues kept in touch. For her 50th
birthday in April, they presented her with 50 garden-related gifts. And
friends offered to sit with Stan while she went out and had lunch with
her best friend from high school.
Her best
birthday present was to come home and discover that her ever-stronger
husband had crawled up the steep flight of stairs from the basement and
made it to his easy chair in the living room. From that point on he was
able to stay upstairs.
Before the
school year ended, Stan was walking with a cane. He and Laura took in
pizza for lunch for her classroom. As she got hugs from her 30
students, she introduced each one to her husband and thanked them. |
