On Tuesday, my husband and I drove to Swedish Hospital in Seattle to meet with a female oncologist, Dr. E., for a second opinion. In a weird way, I was really looking forward to the appointment.
I suppose it's because I felt disillusioned with the male oncologist in my hometown and I was hoping for someone I could really click with. I wasn't disappointed.
Dr. E. seemed very gentle and thoughtful. Talking to her was like talking to a sister. She did an exam, which the male oncologist didn't do, so that surprised me (in a pleasant way, since I felt she was being very thorough).
She explained a few more things to me that Dr. J. (the male oncologist) didn’t go into, but basically ended up making the same recommendation for chemo treatment as he did (although she did give me an option, but it wouldn’t yield as high a prevention result, so I passed it up).
One of the things that reassured me was when she said that nothing was carved in stone. If I start a particular treatment and find that it's just too brutal, we can stop and try something else. I felt better knowing that she was giving me more options and the feeling that we were a team and that I was calling the shots.
Not sure whether I should mention this next part, but it was pretty humorous at the time it happened. My husband and I were discussing radiation treatment with Dr. E. and my husband remarked that the previous radiologist told us that <ahem> larger busted women (well, okay, the radiologist actually used the medical jargon: HUMUNGOUS breasted women), are more difficult to radiate because the beam has to travel through so much more breast tissue, thereby causing more side effects.
Dr. E. related that a study was done on women who had accelerated (higher dose) radiation to the breast and that 20 years later, these women experienced their radiated breasts shriveling up like raisins.
Whereupon my husband interjected that he could live with a walnut maybe, but not a raisin. Dr. E. cracked up when she realized that he was kidding around! (I try to ignore him when he cracks jokes with the doctors, since I'm trying to maximize my time with them.)
One unanticipated event was that Swedish Hospital actually had a FIRE DRILL while I was having my appointment with Dr. E. It was just like the fire drills at the high school where I work. Dr. E. looked exasperated and said, "Come with me, I've got to get my coat and I.D. badge." So we trooped on out in the hall (fortunately, I'd already had my exam and re-dressed).
We ended up going out the back way onto a balcony with a bunch of doctors, nurses, and hospital staff. One doctor with a pager kept pacing back and forth like he didn't know what he would do with the extra time. So we just found a corner on the balcony (luckily, it was a beautiful day) and continued talking.
We waited for the fire trucks and firemen to show up before we were given the go-ahead to go back into the building. Dr. E. said, "I hope they don't do this EVERY Tuesday!" Apparently, it happened exactly one week earlier.
Dr. E. ended up spending over an hour with us, partly because the fire drill cut into our time together. The last thing she told me was that I needed to make a decision soon as to where I was going to go for chemotherapy (my hometown or Swedish Hospital).
So my task is to make a decision as to which doctor to go to for treatment. When I asked for my husband's opinion (he always has one), he said that if it were him, he’d just bite the bullet and go for treatment in Mount Vernon and put up with the male oncologist (for practical reasons like not having to travel so far). He does make a good point.
But then, there’s a lot to be said for having trust in your doctor and the “clickability” factor. Also, Dr. E. would oversee my hormonal treatment after chemo and radiation (which goes on for five years).
And I KNOW that I would much prefer her with that because she seemed to sympathize so much more with my female concerns and wasn’t as flippant about my concerns as the male doctor was.
After I returned to work in the days following my appointment, all of my female friends said that they would go with Dr. E.. They all understood how important it is to have that trust in your doctor. It was nice to have my inclinations confirmed.
I haven't notified Dr. E. yet of my decision because I wanted to wait until after my surgery (tomorrow) so that I would have a few days to ponder on it. I called her office a couple of days ago to ask whether I would feel sick immediately following chemo, since I would have an hour-and-a-half drive home (with my husband driving) if I choose to go to Swedish.
Dr. E. wasn't in, but I spoke with her nurse, who told me that I would mostly feel sleepy since they give you a lot of Benadryl before the chemo drugs. She said most people start to feel "icky" the next day or in the days following.
I'm going with my gut on this one and hope that I won't be sorry. It would be much more convenient to get chemo close to home, but I also want someone to "hold my hand" through this thing and for me, Dr. E. is the designated hand-holder.
In ending, I want to share about an email I received a week ago from a female friend in my Bunco group. I don't know her all that well, really. We've played Bunco together for a couple of years, but other than that, we don't socialize much together.
So last week I was sitting at the computer in my office and I checked my home email. My friend sent an email to encourage me and here is part of what she wrote:
"If I can think of myself as loved, I can love and accept others. If I see myself as forgiven, I can be gracious toward others. If I see myself as powerful, I can do what I know is right. If I see myself as full, I can give myself freely to others."--Kathy Peel
She went on to say, "This is me supporting you today. I can give freely to others. I have been struggling with who, what, how, and why. But today, I feel good about myself! I want you to be happy today, for yourself, for everything you have! Look outside, it's a beautiful day. If you need someone to sit with you on down days, I can be there. If you just want to play a game or watch TV, I can be there. Don't feel you are alone with this."
Well, I was so touched that my eyes began to fill with tears. I hoped my boss didn't walk into my office at that moment because I was a bowl of mush. After all of the lousy conversations with (well meaning) people telling me about how someone they knew died from cancer, I realized that this is exactly what I needed at the very moment I needed it.
What a blessing to have friends and family who support and encourage me like that. I thank God for them and pray for His mercy upon them as well.