Not quite noon and it seems as if I've lived an entire day which is not true but I was up before six. Sweetie and I went with Kathleen to see her new oncologist and the appointment was for seven and really- it's bad enough you have cancer. Seven a.m.? Well, I suppose it's good to get it over with.
We met with Dr. B. He is tall. It seems that Tallahassee has a lot of very tall doctors. None of them, of course, as tall as Mr. Moon but still, tall. And there it was, seven-fifteen a.m. and Dr. B was there in his tie and nice shirt and looking all groomed and fit and alert and he began his questions, his exam.
I'm sure that Kathleen will be telling the story but from my point of view, standing in the corner, he seemed thorough and non-emotional although not unkind. As to how good a doctor he is- who knows? I hope he is a genius. I hope he is amazing. I hope he is the very, very best.
And I was thinking about that this morning. How we get a referral to go to this doctor or that one and then that doctor sends you to this one or that one and really- how do we know? How do we know if any of them are any good?
You can ask an OB or a midwife what his or her C-Section rate is, but you can't exactly ask an oncologist what his patients' survival rates are. And it wouldn't matter anyway.
It so often boils down to whom you feel comfortable with. Someone may love her doctor because he's touchy-feely, not afraid to share your pain, not afraid to show his or her own feelings. Someone else may want a doctor with a steely, determined glint in his eye, ready to battle your disease with the strength and purposefulness of a super-hero. Some may want more of a detached, scientific sort of doctor.
The way we feel about our doctor has to affect our outcome, I would think, at least a little bit.
But we put our lives into the hands of so many all the time from the guy who makes your lunchtime sandwich to the pilot to flies you from here to Las Vegas to the guy who is coming up to the four-way stop the same time as you. We have to do this. We have to have a basic trust in our fellow humans. We want our doctors to be educated and qualified and we want our restaurant workers to wash their hands and and we want our pilots to be sober and well-rested and there are laws put in place to make sure all of that is true, but still- human nature- who knows?
Well, Kathleen has put her cancer into the hands of this Dr. B. who looked quite capable, even at seven a.m. He talked about chemo and she and I were discussing it later. The hair-loss part, specifically. He had mentioned that some chemo patients do tend to experience hair loss. "Do you think I will?" Kathleen asked me.
"Have you ever known anyone on chemo who didn't lose their hair?" I asked. We both thought about it and agreed that no, we have not.
"Well, I'm thinking that if you lose your hair, maybe I'll do that thing where I'll get mine buzzed to show solidarity for you," I said. "I've always wanted an excuse to cut my hair that short."
"Okay," she said, "If you want to."
"I've never really understood how that helps but whatever. It would be a good excuse," I told her.
Who knows? Maybe I will. And maybe she won't lose her hair. Kathleen is not your normal monkey, I'll tell you that. And who is? Who among us is the normal one?
Not me and not you, I'm pretty sure of that.
So it's Monday. It's lunchtime but I'm not hungry. We were going to go to Whataburger for Taquitos after the appointment but a mammogram got pushed into breakfast time and well, we ended up at Panera which is probably better for us anyway and that filled me up, that breakfast sandwich on a jalapeno bagel. Last night Mr. Moon and I went to Spring Creek restaurant for supper and I ate so much stuffed flounder that I hurt myself and went to bed feeling as if I might die, but did not, and I thought I'd never eat again, but already have, but I'm certainly not hungry now. I will be later. That's life.
I thought I'd never be going back to that oncologist's office again after I went there many times with my friend Sue years and years ago but today I did and it looked exactly the same. Sweetie had gone there for her own cancer treatment years ago and she says that they have the same exact stains on the carpet. It's a pretty damn depressing office. So much brown. But they did have good magazines. In Style and Vogue and National Geographic. So much better than Web M.D. which is NOT a magazine in my opinion or Golf World or Investment Monthly which some doctors think is decent waiting room reading and which I think are insults to their patients for very obvious reasons.
So there is that.
And here we go. We joke about hair and magazines and carpet stains and we go get breakfast and then we come back to our homes and our dogs and our chickens and go on with our days until the next appointment which will lead to the next until some day Kathleen will be healed and that will be THAT. Owen is coming today and I hear he is kissing with some regularity and enthusiasm and all I can say is that I hope he kisses me.
The doctor did tell Kathleen that yes, she should go ahead and order tickets for her trip to Spain in September and that sure made us smile. It's so good to have something to look forward to- wellness, a trip, a Taquito, a baby kiss, a few hours of alone-time to watch an old movie, to read a good book, to lie in a kiddie pool and look up at the clouds scuttling across the sky through the leaves of the pecan tree.
We put our lives and well-being into the hands of others, we go out for breakfast, we come home, we rest, we do the dishes, the laundry, we hug and kiss each other. We say I love you, and we mean it.
There are really well rated doctors and medical centers. It is good to check on line. But always, I think that we have to be on top of things and participate in our own care. Reading and asking questions and learning are necessary. I follow a blog of a friend who has a brain tumor. She has found that it is so important to be her own advocate with treatment. You can follow her story at BaxterSez. Her choice of hospitals was Duke, one of the best in the world.
ReplyDeleteI prefer that a doctor think of me as a meat puzzle to be put together exactly correctly.
ReplyDeleteThat concept of putting my life into the hands of strangers all day long, as I do, is how I first realized that I did operate on faith, the blind kind especially.
ReplyDeleteHappy Monday.
Order up that trip to Spain, some wigs some hats some beautiful scarves--and be well, Kathleen! And who knows, Ms Moon---some women look really fabulous with a buzz cut.
ReplyDeleteI'm all for liking your doctor. You can see all the best doctors in the world, but if you don't like him/her, you're miserable. It's the old question about healing and curing, I think.
ReplyDeleteI wish for complete healing AND curing for Kathleen.
And you, Ms. Moon, I'd put my life and well-being into your hands any day.
I need to tell you, I'm thinking of taking some time out to read everything you've written on this blog. I don't read it often but whenever I do, I end up smiling.
ReplyDeleteYou've managed to turn a morning visit to an oncologists office and breakfast into something special, into something that has made you (and now me) think. I see something admirable in that.
So, as your fan, I just wanted to say thanks for helping me remember what's important in life.
It is SO important to feel like you have the best doctor best treatment for yourself. Because when you know you're living and dying at the same time but you don't know which will win in the short run, that little bit of certainty says you're doing everything you can and that lets your mind rest.
ReplyDeleteThere are some chemo cocktails that spare the hair. I kept mine through the breast cancer treatment. You can research side effects of the drugs.
Hoping the best for Kathleen every day.
Ohh I'm so glad she is going abroad -that will be healing because she will be so happy. I know that sounds cheesy, but ...I think it can be true, to a certain extent. Healing of the heart through this traumatic time, for sure. I tell you what, you can take care of me any day Ms Moon. After the day I just had, I want to come sit with your chickens for a bit.
ReplyDeleteSyd- If you're in Tallahassee you have one practice to choose from. If things get gnarly, we'll go to Mayo. Trust me.
ReplyDeleteDTG- I can only say that you, as usual, have said exactly what I think.
Love you, darling.
Lisa- Yep. Faith. We have to have it or we'd die trying to figure shit out.
A- Kathleen's not so into wigs but she has some awesome hats. Me? I'd just go bald and wear cool earrings.
I think.
Elizabeth- Curing and healing. Yes. And honey- the best I can do is make chicken soup and put clean sheets in the Panther Room. But that I would do for you any day.
Judah- You'd have to take a lot of time to read all the drivel I've written. But you know what? Just you're saying what you said made me feel mighty good. Thank-you.
Kathleen Scott- That is so good to know. Thank-you.
SJ- The only problem is that she's taking her father and, well, okay, it will definitely be his last trip to Spain. Need I say more?
I am going to repeat a comment above: Thank You, Ms. Moon. For writing this day into a perfectly woven tribute to Life! My prayers are with Kathleen and her perfect healing, and with you as an amazing, supportive friend.
ReplyDeleteYes, liking one's Dr. is important. Though I wonder if it isn't much easier to do, in such stress, when we are confident in the love of our friends and family. Argh. Like I know anything.
Just know that you are Love and Beloved! As is Kathleen. Your friendship is blessed.
Well, fuck. I see.
ReplyDeleteThinking of Kathleen, and wishing her the best.
ReplyDeleteSwallowtail- Thank-you, sweetie. So much.
ReplyDeleteSJ- You see?
Angie M- Thank-you, too, darling.
Hank cracks me up. I love him.
ReplyDeleteMy ex-father-in-law did not lose his hair from chemo. Good thing. He didn't have much to lose.
I love you, and I sure as hell damn well mean it.
I am very fond of taquitos. Fuckers rock.
XOXO from Buttfuck,
SB