Have a Heart and Listen

After a two week wait, then another wait in the doctor's office of approximately one and one half hours, I finally got the news that I did not have cancer. Instead of jumping up and down with joy, I discovered I was totally exhausted, grouchy, and frankly, wanted to punch the doctor in the nose. He could have just called me at home instead of dragging my ass all the way uptown to the most terrifying hour of mine and my husband's life.  In my mind, I had already diagnosed myself with having metastatic cancer that could have been prevented if someone had just listened to me.  It isn't easy having an active imagination.

I saw my gastroenterologist last Tuesday and was in for a colonoscopy by Thursday.  I was having a nice quiet sedated nap when I woke up screaming my lungs out trying to get off the table. The next thing I knew, nurses are holding me down and the doctor is saying, "Just a little more. Just a little more." At that moment I wished it was his bum on the table and I was digging for gold. Good Lord! The pain was excruciating. I decided at this moment to forego doctors for the rest of my life. 

As soon as the damn tube exited, I fell back to sleep only to wake up to my husband standing next to me. "Well doc?" he asks. "Is it possible she can lower her Remicade dose?"  Remicade causes cancer so since we were already worrying.

"No." His answer was clear, stark, and immovable. 

The words were out of my mouth before I could think. "What the hell were you doing? What is wrong with me?"  At the silence, I repeated my question just louder. I don't think they are allowed to tell you anything when you are under anesthesia. 

"You have a prolapse." 

Oh, is that all. I'd been trying to tell people that for a year. Of course I didn't say it quite like that. It was more like. I'm having a problem here!  I went back to sleep. 

It wasn't until I was up and dressed that things began to make sense. You have to remember this was the second time I was under anesthesia in a week. My senses were a little foggy. I knew a prolapse meant surgery and probably a resection. Not bad for having Crohn's for so long, and I was good with it until I saw the last line. Possible atypical cells. Urgh. The happiness at surgery just blew out the window. Cancer again? 

Which is why when I heard my no cancer diagnosis, I knew I still wasn't out of the woods. Now I have to wait another two weeks to hear from my other doctor. However my gastro always calls me on the phone as soon as the results are in so I don't have to wait for an appointment where he has to tell me face-to-face, which means billing for an extra office visit. 

No wonder our health care costs are through the roof. I should have charged him for stress induced anxiety.

I do want to say this though. I have two very serious conditions, but so far, I do not have cancer.  My respect for cancer patients has gone way up. I have watched my SIL for years now face the oncoming news of metastatic cancer and watched her suck it up for another round of chemo. I have seen, up close and personal, the effects of chemo and radiation on the human body. The wasting away, the new lines of pain etched onto faces that used to laugh and love. Nothing and I mean NOTHING compares to what a cancer patient goes through. So, if you see me bitch about surgery, I can promise you that it isn't anything compared to cancer.  Here's a hat tip to call cancer survivors and as soon as I get to see my SIL after today's round of testing, I will hug her more tightly than ever.