I CAN FIT YOU IN AFTER MY COLONOSCOPY

Thurs I saw the “golden hands” surgeon. I am glad we got a second opinion because we received some good information (mostly confirming (again) that the lumpectomy + rad and mastectomy are equivalent—he said even in regard to recurrence rates, which I still don’t believe, but hey) and absolutely confirmed what I had guessed before I ever met him: that I will be better off with Dr. Miller. Golden Hands was nice enough. He did have me change into a paper gown before he got in there, and had me sitting in it for awhile before he examined me. Those things don’t exactly up your comfort/confidence level, let alone with my poor dad in the room who is trying desperately to look anywhere but at me—after a some initial discussion and a quick examination (yes, Houston, we have a lump) it was back into clothes (thank goodness) for the rest of the consultation. He didn’t really explain anything, or give us any literature. (He was the first doctor to look at my films though). He did answer questions well, and was more personable than I anticipated, but gave absolutely no indication that he saw me as a real person who just might be going through something traumatic. Instead, he regaled us with stories about how he was president of some association… blah blah… and was the leader in gall bladder surgery… blah blah… and, to add in some spice told us a story about a woman he treated who had 10 positive lymph nodes and a 5% chance of survival but is doing ok now. (although all indications are that my lymph nodes are clean, I still don’t know for sure what my status is) Is he KIDDING? The kicker was when my mom asked him about his schedule (note that I didn’t ask) and he pulled out his daytimer, flipped through it and started, “well, I can’t do it Monday or Tuesday—do you want to know why?” (not really) “because I’m having a colonoscopy. I’ve just turned 50 and they have to check these things out.” (I care, I really do—Hello, woman with cancer sitting in front of you!) “Thurs out because I’m going to the blah blah conference, of which I am the chair of blah blah… but I can fit you in on Wednesday before my golf game.” Ok, so the golf game part is made up, but it wouldn’t have surprised me. I have no doubt that he is a talented surgeon who does an excellent job. But sorry, Dr. Golden Hands, Stephanie’s getting my “business” (as he put it.)
Just because I literally have to put my life in the hands of someone with a valuable skill that I don’t possess, does not mean that I do not deserve respect, consideration, and quite frankly, a little compassion and recognition that this situation, even if common to them, is quite a world rocker for me. Luckily, I’m in the position where I don’t have to accept any less – at a different time and/or place in my life I wouldn’t have been so lucky. But I always have been led a charmed life, and why should this be any different?