Visiting with the Oncologist
The first thing we noticed as we pulled into the parking lot was that the construction crews were still onsite and the area outside the chemotherapy treatment room still was full of construction vehicles, blocking the view of Rib Mountain. It seems to me that it would be a priority to open up that view so the people having a horrible day, stuck getting chemo, would at least have something more pleasant to see than dirt, orange fence and contractors trucks.
After we checked in with the receptionist we discovered that the waiting room had new chairs and had been spruced up. Although the chairs were lovely they were not comfortable. It wasn’t long until I was called back for my blood draw.
As she probed my port I told her how worried I was that it wouldn’t work because I hadn’t had it flushed for quite some time. I was thrilled when the needle pierced my skin only once and the nurse was able to push fluids in and withdraw blood. Hurrah, it still works!
I saw the oncologist and he needs records from the past few months, unfortunately the other oncologist didn’t keep him in the loop, so I have to call Mayo and see if I can get those records sent. In the mean time, he set me up for port flushes every six weeks, a mammogram and yet another colonoscopy.
Evidently, even if you are getting PET scans regularly you still need mammograms. Good to know. And, he was very adamant that I should not ever ever take Premarin. Kinda weird that last May he was more than willing to write my prescription for it but between then and now apparently there have been studies connecting it to breast cancer and he said I should not ever take it again. Well, ok.
Dr Onc made me feel good and bad, but not in the ways I had worried about. He scolded me for not being more religious about taking my calcium (for osteopenia) but lightened up when I explained that I did take it religiously for a year and my bone mass still declined. He wants to see the results of the bone densities from my old doctor and once he verifies that it declined while I was taking the calcium he will have me take one of those monthly pills for osteoporosis like my grandma does. He even said you can get an infusion, I think he said every 6 months, instead of taking the pills. I guess I really could turn into a mushy puddle.
He made me feel so good because he was the first person in ages that actually seemed to care. By person, I mean doctor/oncologist. I have been very happy with both of my oncologists and while I have absolute confidence in my Mayo onc he is very professional. Dr Onc seems like your pal and he remembers things about you so he can inquire about your life as well as your health.
At the same time, he made me feel bad because he made everything seem so important. While my regular doc had been unconcerned about my calcium intake and bone loss (she gave me a regimen, I followed it for a year, I lost more bone, she said just keep doing what I‘m doing), Dr Onc insists we need to be on top of it, especially with my family history. A lot of the women in my family have osteoporosis and degenerative arthritis. He was pretty shocked that my mom just had a knee replacement at her young age. While, I’ve been worried about these things myself I have felt powerless because Reg Doc didn’t seem to care.
Dr Onc insists that I need another colonoscopy because it’s been about a year and I have been having blood sometimes. I was unconcerned because I had one last May and they said the blood just must be from my anastomosis. Dr Onc says that it’s possible cancer could be growing on that scar so he’d feel better checking. If everything is clear then I can wait 3 years before I get another one.
I guess my worries can’t stop just yet. But for today I can maybe take a small break from it. Currently my blood is good, CEA normal but it always has been. Even with a Stage IIIC tumor growing inside me, my blood said I was good.
Yeah for a relatively good visit.
Telling every patient "You are dying" seems too formulated to me. It pays
no respect to the tremendous amount of hard work the patient has put into
the mind, into developing and maintaining a hopeful and courageous attitude
during his or her illness, an outlook that reduces anguish and perhaps even
steels the body to fight on longer than it was meant to. I have seen the
power of the mind and heart, and what it can do to support a body infested
with cancer, and the results are impressive.