I need a do over

Have you ever wanted a do over? You know, another turn at something...just one more try? There have been many times in my life when I felt I was justified in receiving one. The first time I can remember wanting a do over was way back in my childhood when I was playing a board game with my best friend. She was older than I was and was clearly more adept at strategizing. I watched intently as she carefully planned her moves. Needless to say, she won the game. She was so proud of herself and immediately jumped up clapping her hands. I remained seated on the floor next to the game board wondering how I'd been bested. I looked up at her and said, "Can I have a do over?" Of course she wasn't about to give up her win. She said no and walked away. Rats! Today I felt that agony once again.

I made my familiar trek to the cancer institute. Today I was lucky and found a parking spot near the door. I walked into the building and headed toward the elevators. A gentleman was mopping the floors. I apologized profusely as I tiptoed over the wet floor to the elevator door. He just smiled and told me I wouldn't be the only one to do it. I still felt badly for him. He'd worked so hard to get the floor all clean and shiny. 

Arriving on the third floor, I made my routine pit stop at the bathroom. You never know how long you're going to have to wait in the oncology office. It's better to be safe than sorry. After emptying my bladder, I went on to my oncologist's office. The ladies at the desk were friendly as I signed in and took a seat. I noticed the books on the little give/take bookshelf in the waiting room. There was one I wanted to read so I got up and crossed the room to retrieve it. It's so nice they provide a tiny lending library. I made a mental note to bring in some of my books to share with others next time. 

I didn't have to wait long. The nurse came and got me in less than 5 minutes. That was a first! She took me to the scale, got my weight, and ushered me into a room. The CNA came in and took my vital signs. Everything looked good, she said. In a minute or two, the door opened and an elderly gentleman entered the room. At first I thought he'd entered the wrong room but as he continued his approach, I realized he had not. 

The elderly man stuck out his hand and said, "I'm Dr. Henderson. Dr. Feinstein is out today." Immediately I was on guard. I don't like surprises, especially with my medical team. (Dr. Henderson must have been pushing his mid 80's. When he'd entered the room, he was stooped over and as he said his name, his dentures moved forward as spittle ran down his chin.) The doctor asked how I was feeling and when I told him I wasn't feeling well, he quickly scooted to the far corner of the room on his little wheeled stool. I was shocked that he would be so blatant in his attempt to get away from me and I guess my face showed it. He then said, "Do you have a bug or something?" I immediately responded, "not that I know of." 

I wasn't in the mood to play 20 questions with this substitute doctor. I wanted my own! I told him I hadn't been sleeping well for many months and that I was experiencing severe back pain. He just sat there and I asked if there was something he could do to help. He said, "You could try a sleeping pill." I sat and waited for more information but he didn't offer any. "Okay," I said, "and what about my back pain?" His response dumbfounded me..."You could see a pain management specialist." Really???

Dr. Henderson walked over to the examination table and opened up a drawer. He pulled out a paper half gown with an opening up the front. I knew what was coming next. He was going to perform a physical exam. I wasn't looking forward to his bony, old hands touching me but I knew it had to be done. Oh how I wished my regular doctor was in the office today. 

I removed my blouse and slipped on the paper gown then hopped up onto the exam table. Dr. Henderson came back in and felt under my armpits. He pressed really hard for an old guy and it hurt. Then he mashed around on my incision. I could tell he hadn't dealt with patients on a regular basis because of his roughness. He had me lie down on the table and as I did, I winced in pain. It took me a few minutes to get completely prone and I apologized for taking a few minutes to get there. He poked on my abdomen and then had me sit up. He was done and exiting the room. A total of 4 minutes had passed. I couldn't believe it, I wanted a do over!!!

As I dressed, I was fuming. This substitute didn't know me. He didn't know my case and had obviously not reviewed my medical records. I'm sure he'd probably just come out of retirement recently to fill in for Dr. Feinstein on a regular basis to supplement his Social Security income. I could have done a better job than he had!

I walked out into the hall and caught a nearby nurse by the shoulder. I told her I needed to have lab work done, that Dr. Feinstein always did blood work to determine the levels of my Vitamin D (which was always extremely low) and to check on my platelet levels and tumor markers. She looked at me strangely and said, "Well, Dr. Henderson didn't order any lab work." I told her I knew that, but I wanted it to be done and would she please ask him to place the order. If I couldn't get a real do over, I was at least going to get another throw of the dice. 

The lab assistant was quick and managed to hit the vein in my hand with great precision. I was thankful for her. She has been doing her job for some time and is very good at it. Venipuncture is not an easy task especially when it has to be done on tiny little veins in the back of a patient's hand. 

Time to check out. Wow, this was the quickest doctor's visit I'd ever had! I tried to be nice. At the check out desk, I didn't say ugly things, like I wanted to, but I did question the whereabouts of my regular doctor. The receptionist told me that he'd left the practice and moved to a location in Fayetteville. Ah! Now it made sense. That's why Dr. Henderson was the man on call today. 

As I made my next three month appointment, I asked if I would see Dr. Feinstein. I was told I would not unless I drove to the other office in Fayetteville. I didn't want to do that. It was too far away, but I also didn't want to see Dr. Henderson again...EVER! The receptionist could sense my disappointment. When I asked if there was another doctor in the practice that I could see, she assured me there were two others. I chose the one I thought would be the best fit after having Googled him and reading his Curriculum Vitae. At least this new doctor was under the age of 80 and well educated. 

I left the office feeling very frustrated. I really felt like I had been duped. I'd thought I was going to see my regular doctor and I'd gotten a substitute instead. If I'd been brave enough to have done it, I would have walked out of the patient exam room as soon as Dr. H had introduced himself. His inability to keep his dentures in his mouth was surely no fault of his own (Polygrip would have fixed that) but the flying spit was a definite turn off. I guess I just don't like to rock the boat when it comes to things like that but I do realize I have my rights. Just like the board game with my best friend, back in the day, I really wanted a do over but I knew, just like I did then, that it wasn't going to happen. RATS! 

© bonnie annis all rights reserved 

Oncology visit

What I want you to know:
When I walked into the Oncology center, I was nervous. No one had come with me today and I felt so alone. I entered the lobby and took the elevator up to the third floor. I had no idea what was going to be done today. I signed in at the receptionist's desk and sat down in the waiting room. No one else was there. It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

I'd only met Dr. Feinstein once before and that was shortly after my cancer diagnosis. It's amazing how my illness has given me an entire team of doctors. Each one of them specialize in different areas, but they all work together for my benefit. Some days I feel like a rock star.

I waited about fifteen minutes before being called back. Of course, the nurse ushered me into a little alcove with the infamous scale. In a chipper voice, she said, "Let's get your weight." In my head I said, 'no, let's don't and say we did." I hate having my weight done, partly because I know I've gained weight since surgery and partly because there's nothing I can do about it at this time. I haven't been able to do any kind of exercise for months.

The nurse with her little clipboard guided me into the exam room. Once again, I see the blood pressure machine coming my way. I explained that she couldn't use my arms because of the Lymphedema and she gave the same reaction as the nurse yesterday in Dr. Smith's office. She wasn't too happy to have to take my blood pressure on my calf. She had to try 3 times to get the machine to register. It was really hurting as it pumped up higher and higher. I'd never seen a cuff pump up to 243 before and I could feel pain on my leg. I commented to her that it was really hurting, but she did nothing. When the machine finally stopped pumping, I was shocked to see my blood pressure at 179/110. I commented that my blood pressure was extremely high and she told me not to worry because it always registers higher on the leg. "Oh, okay," I said.

Dr. Feinstein came in and sat down. He always sits so close that kind of freaks me out. He is so calm and so soft spoken. I'm sure that helps put his patients at ease. I listened as he went over my lab results. He wants to keep a close eye on my Vitamin D level which is still very low. As he reviewed my bone density scan, he commented that I'd need to have it redone every two years. Apparently the aromatase inhibitor, Arimidex, can cause severe Osteopenia and Osteoporosis. He explained that those in turn can cause frequent bone fractures.

As the doctor finished reviewing my labs, he leaned in closer to me and began to tell me all the side effects of Arimidex. He said hair loss, hot flashes, bone/joint pain, fatigue, mood swings and mental changes are all side effects that can occur. He wants me to try the medication for 30 days and then report back to him. If Arimidex doesn't work well for me, he'll put me on Tamoxifen but in the next breath, he said Tamoxifen causes blood clots.

For the next five to ten years I'll need to be on this medication. Dr. Feinstein wants me to wait two weeks to start since I just finished radiation. He said that will give me a little more time to recover and get my energy back before starting the new medication. It scares me.

What I'm thinking:
Will I ever be through with treatment for cancer? Will I have doctors appointments every month? Will I think every new ache or pain is the cancer returning? Will I ever get my energy back? I don't know what to do...do I just trust that the doctor knows more than I do and take the medication just because he tells me to take it? Do I need to research it more and ask about alternative therapies? I wonder if I'm just a lab rat...being used to gather statistical information on how Arimidex does or does not affect estrogen in my body. I know the medication is supposed to better my odds of having a recurrence, but all of those side effects...are they worth it? I'm going to pray I don't get any of the side effects but if I do, I hope I don't experience any of the more severe ones...is that too much to ask? I don't want to go through hot flashes again...been there and done that...it was definitely no fun! Hair loss...don't want to experience that either...it takes my hair forever to grow and it's already very fine and thin. Mood swings/mental changes...I definitely don't want any of those and I know Phil won't either! I don't want him to wonder what ever happened to his sweet loving wife! I'm afraid the medication may make me be a horrible, irritable person. So much to worry about, but I can't go there. I don't want to borrow trouble. All I can do is trust my doctors and hope for the best. I know God's in control and that's all that matters. Sometimes I think Cancer sucks.

Zapping is a thing of the past!

This morning, I woke up early and jumped into the shower. I was so excited to know that this would be my very last day of radiation treatments. I dried off, got dress, and quickly blew my hair dry. It was going to be a great day! I donned my makeup and tiptoed into the living room. Laura, my daughter, and Heather, my granddaughter were still sleeping....or so I thought. I was surprised to see them already awake.

I made some waffles for Laura and I as she fed the baby her oatmeal. We enjoyed our breakfast and some light morning conversation before it was time for me to leave for the clinic. Happily, I waved goodbye and headed out.

As I was driving to the clinic, I was overcome with emotion. Yes, I was ecstatic that this was the last time I'd ever have to lie underneath that ugly, monstrous linear accelerator while it shot beams of radiation into my body but, I wasn't prepared for the next set of emotions that overtook me as I drove on. Suddenly, I felt fear. How was I going to deal with not having the routine of daily treatments? How was I going to feel without that "special attention" that the nurses and radiation therapist had been giving me for the past 7 weeks? They had become my new friends and now, I wasn't going to see them any longer. I wasn't going to have anyone to talk to during the day on a face to face basis. That was going to be an adjustment. Then I began to feel sad. I was sad to know that I'd be alone again. I was also feeling apprehensive. Now that radiation was over, I would move into the next phase of treatment which meant spending time with the oncologist. That would mean regular visits for blood work and PET scans. When would it ever end?

I arrived at the clinic and saw the daily newspaper laying on the coffee table in the waiting room. I picked it up and looked inside. There inside the front section was a huge article that had been written about me! I had talked with a journalist last week and he'd interviewed me for an article in the October community section of the paper. They were doing a series on breast cancer patients. After reading the article, I noticed several errors but it was too late to worry about those now that the article was in print. Taking the paper up to the receptionist's window, I checked in and asked if they'd seen the paper this morning. The receptionist and her coworker replied they had not seen the paper, so I handed it to them. I told them to look on page 6 and they'd see an article about me. It was fun to watch them as they read it.

When it was time for me to go back for my treatments, every single member of the staff congratulated me for this being my last treatment day. They were genuinely happy for me and each of them gave me a hug as I passed by. I felt like a celebrity!

Lying underneath the "big stink eye" as I liked to called the linear accelerator, I counted off the seconds for each section of my treatment. For some reason, the treatment seemed to go by faster than normal today and I was so happy! Before I knew it, the techs had come into the room and told me I was all done. Three sweet ladies told me they'd miss me and that they hoped I'd do well with the rest of my treatments. The nurse called me into a room and went over my aftercare instructions and set up a followup appointment. Then she handed me my "graduation" certificate.

As I walked out of the office, my heart was light. Finally, I'd finished this phase of my journey. Robotically, I got back into my car and drove home. As I drove, I created a mental check list: surgery, check. Recovery, check. Radiation, check. Healing...still working on it. Anti hormone therapy...still to come. Oncologist, 2 weeks. Radiation Oncologist 3 weeks. Breast Surgeon, 7 weeks...appointments, appointments, appointments. Test, and more test...when will this every truly be over??? I don't know. I would imagine I'll be following up with someone or other for the next year or so and then...what happens after that?

I was making my brain tired so I had to stop thinking. Let's back up and just take one moment at a time...that's about all I can handle well at this juncture anyway. So, I looked down at my feet and realized that I was in the car on my way home. That was a good place to be...going somewhere I knew well...the place where I was most loved...home...where I could feel safe and cared for...home. That's when I realized that old saying, "there's no place like home" is so very true...and I could hardly wait to get there! And that's when Matthew 6:34 popped into my head "So don't worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring its own worries. Today's trouble is enough for today." Yep. Just focus on today...right now...right where I am. That's enough, yep...that's plenty.


©bonnie annis all rights reserved