Cancer patient seeks ride. Is this a job for Bond, James Bond? Or will the American Cancer Society "Road to Recovery" program help? |
Does the American Cancer Society's "Road to Recovery" program redline cancer patients who live in poor and minority communities?
Redlining is the denial of services to people who live in poor and minority areas.
The American Cancer Society's Road to Recovery program's webpage says this about the program:
"Every day thousands of cancer patients need a ride to treatment, but some may not have a way to get there. The American Cancer Society Road to Recovery program provides transportation to and from treatment for people who have cancer who do not have a ride or are unable to drive themselves. Volunteer drivers donate their time and the use of their cars so that patients can receive the life-saving treatments they need."
***
I was recently diagnosed with cancer. I do not have family. I am low income and I do not own a car. In any case, I'd need to travel after surgery and other medical procedures that might make it challenging for me to drive myself.
I asked for rides on facebook.
"Don't worry!" A caring facebook friend, herself a cancer survivor, promised me. "The American Cancer Society has a Road to Recovery program that will provide you with rides!"
Several other facebook friends, themselves cancer survivors or in touch with cancer survivors or social workers, all promised me that the American Cancer Society's Road to Recovery program would help.
I contacted the American Cancer Society a month ago. I was asked where I live. I told them. I was immediately informed that I could not get rides with the American Cancer Society Road to Recovery program.
I was rather shocked. I live in a heavily populated region of a densely populated state. If the ACS Road to Recovery did not provide rides here, where would they provide rides???
I continued to contact the American Cancer Society, asking to speak to other personnel. I ended up speaking to a very nice man named Erik. He researched the question from all angles. After a month of this back-and-forth, after a month of my begging and pleading and tearing my hair out – never mind chemo – Erik informed me this afternoon that there was no way I could get any ride with the American Cancer Society Road to Recovery program, even if I took a bus to a nearby town and was picked up there, rather than in my low-income neighborhood.
I feel so sad. I'm already fighting so many battles on so many fronts. To be turned down by this world famous humanitarian organization. It's hard. It's just another negative, negating message I need to overcome.
And I just don't know what to make of this. Again, I live in a heavily populated region of a densely populated state: New Jersey.
I know this much – I live in an almost all minority city. Spanish, not English, is the first language of many streets in this city. Most people are Hispanic, or Black, or Muslim, from the Middle East. And this is a high crime area. Two men were shot to death right in front of my apartment building just one year ago.
I don't know if my living in a majority minority city has played any role in my being excluded from the American Cancer Society's Road to Recovery Program.
I do know that the cancer diagnosis was a crushing blow.
I do know that my life is already challenging enough. I live in a poor region because I'm struggling with big challenges.
As people who have read "Save Send Delete" know, I've already wrestled with a catastrophic illness, one that ruined me financially and pushed me out of the fulltime job market. I'm struggling to get back in. I spent this entire morning looking at job listings and applying for jobs. I have a PhD. I'm a published writer. I don't spend my free time doing drugs and cheating on welfare. I teach part-time – oh, what I would not give for a full-time job!
I don't carry a switchblade and I don't have poor people cooties. I just can't afford a car. And I need a ride to cancer treatment.
My neighbors are similar to me. Yes, there are criminals in this city. But there are also plenty of young people, as innocent and bright-eyed as young people in wealthy suburbs, plenty of women who go off in their nurse's aide uniforms at six every morning, on foot, in summer's heat and over winter snow and ice, to work the seven-to-three shift, plenty of physically handicapped people who will never scale the corporate ladder, but who are otherwise as human as anyone.
Erik repeatedly assured me that the American Cancer Society does not redline people in poor and minority communities. I believe him.
But I'd like to suggest to Erik, and to the American Cancer Society, through this blog, a couple of things.
First, given that the American Cancer Society implies that it has this aspect of cancer covered, many well-meaning people, from my facebook friends to social workers at the hospital, felt that they could refer me to the American Cancer Society, and that that would solve everything.
I think the American Cancer Society is honor-bound to make more clear in its communications that it *doesn't* have this aspect of cancer covered. That people fall through the cracks, and that more needs to be done to provide rides to cancer patients.
Second, I strongly urge the American Cancer Society to take a look at the ride needs of people in low income communities. It seems a given that poor folk would be the ones most in need of rides.
If you'd like to contact the American Cancer Society on this matter, the contact information is below:
1-800-227-2345
You can also email the American Cancer Society at this webpage:
http://www.cancer.org/Aboutus/HowWeHelpYou/app/contact-us.aspx
Redlining is the denial of services to people who live in poor and minority areas.
The American Cancer Society's Road to Recovery program's webpage says this about the program:
"Every day thousands of cancer patients need a ride to treatment, but some may not have a way to get there. The American Cancer Society Road to Recovery program provides transportation to and from treatment for people who have cancer who do not have a ride or are unable to drive themselves. Volunteer drivers donate their time and the use of their cars so that patients can receive the life-saving treatments they need."
***
I was recently diagnosed with cancer. I do not have family. I am low income and I do not own a car. In any case, I'd need to travel after surgery and other medical procedures that might make it challenging for me to drive myself.
I asked for rides on facebook.
"Don't worry!" A caring facebook friend, herself a cancer survivor, promised me. "The American Cancer Society has a Road to Recovery program that will provide you with rides!"
Several other facebook friends, themselves cancer survivors or in touch with cancer survivors or social workers, all promised me that the American Cancer Society's Road to Recovery program would help.
I contacted the American Cancer Society a month ago. I was asked where I live. I told them. I was immediately informed that I could not get rides with the American Cancer Society Road to Recovery program.
I was rather shocked. I live in a heavily populated region of a densely populated state. If the ACS Road to Recovery did not provide rides here, where would they provide rides???
I continued to contact the American Cancer Society, asking to speak to other personnel. I ended up speaking to a very nice man named Erik. He researched the question from all angles. After a month of this back-and-forth, after a month of my begging and pleading and tearing my hair out – never mind chemo – Erik informed me this afternoon that there was no way I could get any ride with the American Cancer Society Road to Recovery program, even if I took a bus to a nearby town and was picked up there, rather than in my low-income neighborhood.
I feel so sad. I'm already fighting so many battles on so many fronts. To be turned down by this world famous humanitarian organization. It's hard. It's just another negative, negating message I need to overcome.
And I just don't know what to make of this. Again, I live in a heavily populated region of a densely populated state: New Jersey.
I know this much – I live in an almost all minority city. Spanish, not English, is the first language of many streets in this city. Most people are Hispanic, or Black, or Muslim, from the Middle East. And this is a high crime area. Two men were shot to death right in front of my apartment building just one year ago.
I don't know if my living in a majority minority city has played any role in my being excluded from the American Cancer Society's Road to Recovery Program.
I do know that the cancer diagnosis was a crushing blow.
I do know that my life is already challenging enough. I live in a poor region because I'm struggling with big challenges.
As people who have read "Save Send Delete" know, I've already wrestled with a catastrophic illness, one that ruined me financially and pushed me out of the fulltime job market. I'm struggling to get back in. I spent this entire morning looking at job listings and applying for jobs. I have a PhD. I'm a published writer. I don't spend my free time doing drugs and cheating on welfare. I teach part-time – oh, what I would not give for a full-time job!
I don't carry a switchblade and I don't have poor people cooties. I just can't afford a car. And I need a ride to cancer treatment.
My neighbors are similar to me. Yes, there are criminals in this city. But there are also plenty of young people, as innocent and bright-eyed as young people in wealthy suburbs, plenty of women who go off in their nurse's aide uniforms at six every morning, on foot, in summer's heat and over winter snow and ice, to work the seven-to-three shift, plenty of physically handicapped people who will never scale the corporate ladder, but who are otherwise as human as anyone.
Erik repeatedly assured me that the American Cancer Society does not redline people in poor and minority communities. I believe him.
But I'd like to suggest to Erik, and to the American Cancer Society, through this blog, a couple of things.
First, given that the American Cancer Society implies that it has this aspect of cancer covered, many well-meaning people, from my facebook friends to social workers at the hospital, felt that they could refer me to the American Cancer Society, and that that would solve everything.
I think the American Cancer Society is honor-bound to make more clear in its communications that it *doesn't* have this aspect of cancer covered. That people fall through the cracks, and that more needs to be done to provide rides to cancer patients.
Second, I strongly urge the American Cancer Society to take a look at the ride needs of people in low income communities. It seems a given that poor folk would be the ones most in need of rides.
If you'd like to contact the American Cancer Society on this matter, the contact information is below:
1-800-227-2345
You can also email the American Cancer Society at this webpage:
http://www.cancer.org/Aboutus/HowWeHelpYou/app/contact-us.aspx
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