Isn’t it kind of funny how the thing you like best about a doctor can also be the exact same thing you hate the most?
With Doctor O (I call him that because he’s an oncologist, not because his name begins with the letter O) the thing I like the best about him is that he takes the time he needs with each patient. He isn’t one of those quick-in quick-out kinds of doctors. He’ll sit down and talk with you about things, discuss everything as thoroughly as possible and make sure everything is alright before letting you go. On the other hand – the only thing, so far, that I don’t like about Doctor O is that he takes his time with each patient … including the ones he saw before you (which means he can run a few minutes late.)
Yeah, sigh, a few minutes (cough snort) …
Today, I had an appointment with Doctor O at ten o’clock. Personally, I don’t really care what time I actually see the doctor, because like I said, I know he’s going to spend quality time with me.
After getting my weight taken (201, down from 213 on my last visit three weeks ago) … my blood pressure taken (137 over 92) … and my blood work done (everything was great!) … I was ushered into one of the rooms and informed the doctor was running a little behind (cough snort) and he’d be in to see me soon. I sat down, started reading a several-months-old magazine article on Glee, and was halfway through when one of Doctor O’s residents came in … started asking me a bunch of questions and writing notes in my file … and then … and then … Corky will panic in … 5 … 4 … 3 …
Resident begins to tell me about my options … and he says I have two. The first option is to completely take out the colon, rectum, and anus, seal everything up, and I’d go around with a bag strapped to my leg for the rest of my life. The other option is to do chemo and radiation for a few weeks to shrink the cancerous abscess, and then I’d be scheduled for surgery to have just the abscess removed. But, he tells me, there would be a high chance that I wouldn’t heal from this surgery, so they would have to cut me open yet again to take everything out and I would … just like the first option … end up with a bag strapped to my leg for the rest of my life.
And then Resident was out the door and I was alone to … well … panic.
Half an hour later, when Doctor O finally comes in, and as I am trying to wipe my tears off my face with my shirt sleeve, Doctor O asks me what’s wrong. I’m trying to pull myself out of Panic Mode, but when I start to tell him about what the Resident said I felt like I was slipping back into it again. Honestly, I don’t know if I was making any sense at all –the good Doctor had absolutely no idea what I was talking about. He starts flipping through my chart reading what Resident wrote while trying to calm me down and assure me that Resident shouldn’t have said any of that to me and that he sees no reason why I would need any surgery unless my cancer doesn’t respond to the therapy … and he said there was only a slight chance of that happening.
Once I was finally calmed down, Doctor O checked me out from head to toe … and told me I was doing very well. The next step for me is to see the Radiation Oncologist who would examine me, too … and he wants me to start Chemotherapy and Radiation as soon as possible.
I had been thinking I was going to find out today when I would be starting Chemo … and I had assumed Radiation, too … but I guess that all now depends on how things go later this week with the Radiation Oncologist.
Oh, the waiting. THE WAITING. Also, the Resident-hating. That was decidedly uncool. I’m glad Dr. O was able to calm you down.