Michael took my blood pressure -- it was slightly elevated which I said was a result of "white coat syndrome" though Michael doesn't wear a white coat. My last visit with Sam, my blood pressure was quite high. Sam doesn't wear a white coat either. I'm always afraid Sam is going to force me to speak french while performing a rectal exam so it's got to be fear that causes the elevated blood pressure - fear of french and rectums. Why do they call it "white coat syndrome"? Perhaps they could call it "doctors who tell you it's okay to call them by their first name after two years of treatment or doctors that request you speak french while performing rectal exams" syndrome? No wonder the blood pressure goes up!
The most probing issue I discussed with Michael was that I'd had an appointment with Sid, and the appointment was pretty much a wash. Sid didn't perform the requisite rectal or the annual pap. Contrary to popular opinion, I am not the norm. Sid needs to go the extra mile for me. Sid needs to treat me more thoroughly than the random vagina on the street. Idle chitchat doesn't cure cancer (and if it did we'd *all* attend support groups.)
Michael advised me to let Sam know that I need someone more experienced with my situation than Sid. Then Michael said to make sure Sam sends any new records to Tom, Sid and himself to keep them all in the loop and handed me paperwork to give to Sam and fax to Sid and Tom. Michael said to make sure that I ask Sam about another CT scan for this year. Michael also said that it looks like I am graduating to the only one CT scan per year -- that it's been 2.5 years since my diagnosis (which isn't true yet -- though I got all excited because I *thought* he was right because he's a doctor and doctors are always right, right?) and that I only need one scan a year unless Sam comes back with a different report.
After I got home, I realized that Michael was wrong. My surgery was almost two years ago the first week of October (next week). The last week of September (this and part of next week) will be my two year cancer diagnosis anniversary (where Sam and Sid both said that I kinda, sorta, maybe had cancer though they didn't really think I did, and if I did have cancer, it would be encapsulated (it wasn't) and not that big of a deal, (and it was) and I wouldn't have to do radiation or chemo and they flat-out lied) and if I did have cancer it would be a cancer that wasn't that bad) (Liars!). (Oops -- wow, calling Sid and Sam both a liar doesn't seem very compassionate -- even to me! I will pay extra attention in class this week.)
So this makes the first week of October my 2nd anniversary of cancer surgery where they took out all my guts and put them in a jar for 'show n tell'. Too bad I'm no longer in kindergarten. I had surgery the day after I returned from an eight day vacation in Hawaii where I spent most of the time hunting for toilets and visiting the Punalu'u bakery. Which by the way, was the highlight of my life so far though you didn't read that here.
And because we both found out about our cancer diagnosis on the same day, Lance and I are celebrating this anniversary on Oct 2, 2009 aka LIVESTRONG Day, a one-day initiative to unite people affected by cancer in raising awareness of cancer issues on a global level and in communities across the country. And you are part of my community. Please come back to visit us on that day. Fridays are always slow anyway. I'll be highlighting other exciting details about cancer (THOSE tidbits you simply cannot miss!), my life post cancer, and my LIVESTRONG(er) life, post treatment, (part of which includes calling my doctors by their first names). Instead of asking for gifts like most young couples (in love) (sorry, Sheryl), Lance and I will be giving gifts away to celebrate the occasion.
Read more about LIVESTRONG and commit to your own event on Oct 2, 2009. (Sorry but visiting the Punalu'u bakery is not an official, sanctioned LIVESTRONG event.)
We unite people to fight cancer believing that unity is strength, knowledge is power and attitude is everything
Lance Armstrong Foundation
9 comments:
They call it white coat syndrome because "doctors who tell you it's okay to call them by their first name after two years of treatment or doctors that request you speak french while performing rectal exams" syndrome is too long.
I think.
This was a great post, POD. Only you could make rectal exams amusing!
"Funny" as ever!! I remember an elective surgery patient that I did who was retired military, 65 years old, when I was a 27 year old resident. He trusted me to do a total jaw repositioning, and called me by my first name. I liked that.
I am imagining that your doctors were trying to be as hopeful as they could, and perhaps they even believed what they told you. I just tell people that they are terminal, but then I have a terrible bedside manor.
I cannot imagine calling my doctors by their first name - that is weird. I mean, they have to be all touchy-feely because of their profession, and then to go on a first-name basis...what's next, are they gonna buy you a drink? (Although that might not be so bad...)
My desire is for everyone to put that little lancy logo on their blog on Oct 2, 2009 to commemorate my anniversary. Oh, and Lance Armstrong too.
*eyeball roll*
Shelley, they can buy me a drink. Maybe it would help the rectal?
Dr. J...I'm sure we're all terminal.
And BL, thanks for the compliment. ;-)
Never had a doc ask me to call them by his/her first name. I did have a primary care doc who used to want to know what I was reading & if I'd been mountain biking lately. He used to tell me how he rode by my house. That was interesting. Our exams were only related to my nose for sinus infections. The rectal exam thing would have freaked me out.
After we moved, I went to a new OB GYN and was weirded out (apparently doesn't take much) because he looked just like Dick Gephardt. He was OK & all, but couldn't handle seeing ol' Geppy down there between my legs.
As usual, a great post.
The first week of Oct is loaded with memories for you. :(
righto - 2nd Ocober it is, for plastering Lance Logos on my blog. Just remind me, as you know I have chemo brain big style. I will do it for sure. I am quite good at links!
so. calling docs by their first names?? NOOO! Never!! imagine if they do something wrong? then, as we are all on a first name basis [i.e.: *friends*] we can't kill them [or, as you lot in the States do, SUE them] as we would feel guilty. No way I will call my doc [Mr John Renninson] John, or my onc, [Dr Anne Hong] Anne...oh, hi Anne and John, hows my prognosis? er - no! never. ever.
And it also seems to cause complete chaos with blogging judging by your post! exhausting, reading all those Tom, Dick and Harry's..but hilarious as usual.
I think I better start paying you as my 'therapist'. ;o)
x
I feel really fortunate to call you my friend.
(this comment went on and on but I took the liberty of editing it for you. Im nice that way. the only other person Ive met who is as funnysmartbeautifulwitty whilst being simultaneously able to enjoy the LOWBROW in life I married.)
Maybe it's an African thing but here Drs introduce themselves by their first name "Hi Mrs (look up name) I'm Irene Hitchin, pleased to meet you" I on the other hand am generally NOT pleased to meet a Dr and never quite know how to answer a breezy "and how are you?" Any way, then you sort of decide what to call the Dr. Some I call by their first name and others I Dr forever, can't say why. Cancer is a quick intro to so many new and interesting Drs, sometimes it's hard to tell them apart so a generic Dr covers up any random memory lapses!
I think it's a little off putting to call them by their first name but was raised by my grandparents so everyone is Mr or Mrs So and So until I'm invited to use their first name.
Nice that they are trying to be more human. More M.D. than M.edical D.eity like some come off.
(Does this make sense? Very late here)
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