Be grateful for the gynecologist. I hadn’t been in a while. In fact the last time I saw him, was the first time I saw him, a couple months after my move to Miami and a few days before my diagnosis.
I apologized for my lapse. But when you are busy with, med oncs, rad oncs, gyno surgeons, breast surgeons, tumor markers and a monthly pellet implants, the pap goes by the wayside.
So when I say, be thankful. Be thankful that the only dr’s appointment you most likely have in your rotation is your gyno, with the occasional pop in to the dermatologist for a weird mole check.
He gushed about how great I look. This throws me. Every time. I look like me. The guy met me once, three years ago. I think I look the same, just older.
Our appointment was awkward. He said, “thank god we caught it early.”
I wanted to say, who is this “we” that you speak of muchacho? You didn’t notice the cluster of cancer in my armpit, when you did my breast check.
I did say, “it wasn’t early.”
He probably thinks I’m an over sensitive jerk. Maybe I am. But, I think I need to find a new doc. I want someone to look at my file and know that the inoperable nodes in the chest, allow me to have my doctors know that cliches like thank god we caught it early, are reserved for the well wishes on the street or in the waiting room, not from my medical professionals.
I need someone who will not tell me that he has never heard of anyone on the combination of medications I am on. He ordered me a bone density test.
“You are trading one problem for another.” He said.
“I am trying to live longer.” I said
He asked me if I have thought about synthetic estrogen.
“Estrogen is my cryptonite. Drama and estrogen are the only things I try to avoid. Home grown or synthetic.”
Even after a weird and contentious appointment, I left feeling like a regular person, who goes to regular appointments. There was no breath holding while scans or tumor markers were taken. I felt normal. I am grateful for the gynecologist.