I was thinking "Oh goodie, I get to talk to Dr. N." but then when the day arrived to go see him, then and only then, I actually started getting worried about the lump!
Sigh. So I put on my Big Girl Pants and headed down there.
"Oh how are you Madame D.??" they gushed, in serious concern, including the young, pretty blond (Miss "Don't say that to him or he'll be mean to us for the rest of the day"). I updated them, with the nuggets of my adventure they're more interested in, like changing the rads location. "So disorganized over at the Cancer Center!" "Really??" I thought that tidbit might be useful to pass on to another patient, really. I also praised my "princess" treatment at Adassa and said that the rads were just like a sunburn. Everyone was wonderful over at St. Anne. No problems with the anti-hormone pill.
I have learned that people want to hear positive things about cancer and not all doom, gloom and negative stories.
I left out that I've been having a period for two weeks. Some stuff that just doesn't need to be shared!
So what are you having done? Um, the Rx. I forgot to bring it in!
Thankfully, I've learned a few tricks and one is to put all medical stuff in the car, so that it can't be forgotten. Of course, I'm screwed if my car is stolen or burned but let's not go there. So I ran out to my car, made a mess and came back with the paper from the rads-onc lady.
I was waiting in the waiting area. Not too busy. Good thing because he came in and called out "Sharon!"
Truthfully, I think he meant to say my full name and somehow, it didn't quite make it. French doctors are very formal, always shake hands and everyone is Monsieur and Madame.
What are the chances that the other patients thought that "Sharon" is my last name? But then he said it the American way, like Sharon Stone. The French usually say it like Ariel Sharon. Love that association (some Moslem friends in England called me "Ruth", my middle name since they despised Sharon so much!)
So he shakes my hand and leads me to the ultrasound room. Let's me get dressed by myself this time! Oh yeah. Left my bra on. Didn't feel like waiting with no top on. Where are the gowns in France?? I think I only saw one for the MRI.
Of course, he kind of scolds me. He can't say the word for bra. He kind of waves his hand and says "It all has to come off". Okay fine and I flung my Victoria's Secret special across the room and it lands perfectly on top of my affairs.
Luckily, it wasn't hard to miss. I showed him and he fired up the u/s machine. I told him about Dr. G's aborted attempt at extracting fluid. Then, of course, I have to add "I hope he's better with a scalpel then he is with a needle", trying not to exaggerate things. He put up his hands and said "I will assure you, if I go in there with a needle, I will know where I'm going and I will extract something. I'm not stabbing anyone for nothing!"
Oh. Someone's not happy.
"...and it isn't even fluid! Look..." Like I really know what I'm looking at? "Not black in the middle?" I said, trying to show off that I do actually listen to him sometimes. "Right! See, there are your cysts. They looks completely different..." Um... He declared it to be scar tissue. "But it's not under my scar!" "It's still very close. See" he said, taking my hand "here is your scar and here it is. Almost in the same place. You have scar tissue on top but you also have scar tissue underneath. There's probably more further down by your other scar but you can't feel it. We'll monitor this but it's nothing. It's normal to have this after surgery..." Yeah.
I then approached the subject. Dr. G doesn't like questions and he doesn't like explaining. "I explain everything" he declared. So I noticed. "Ultrasound, mammography and that's it. Once a year. That's not what we talked about and I told him so. Just once." I was getting worried that he'd backtrack and that I'd regret talking about Dr. G. first.
"I want my MRI's. Last time you told me I could have MRI's. I know about the false positives. My sister just had a biopsy that was a false negative from an MRI but that's a 'risk' I'm willing to take. You can biopsy anything you want but it shows everything..."
And off he went on the speech about the false positives (which I was trying to cut off by saying it first). Then he reiterated what he told me last fall. Every six months, mammo then...
So how do I go about doing that? I have my GP's support, I explained and an apt. with my gynecologist... No, not necessary.
What?!? I'm now, what they call in France, a "long infection" patient. This gives me special privileges like direct access to my radiologist, without a reference.
Oh. Good. He was still pushing that little wand thing around on the side of my boob. I was happy to let him continue...
All I have to do it call, make an apt. and he said he'd take care of all the rest. And the three month run up to an MRI? We'll deal with that in the fall. We have time. Great.
I asked about his trip to Chicago. They had great weather and one of the storms was moving in as they left. He said the board was full of cancellations but their flight left. Internationals are usually priority, I told him. I also asked about Tomosynthesis, the 3D new technology. "Not for you. Dense breasts. Just like a mammogram, we can't see anything". Oh, the dense breast thing. Talked about that for awhile.
Finally done. He pulled off a big piece of that rolled paper and started awkwardly trying to wipe off all that gel he uses. He always does this and I'm always trying to take it from him without being pushy. Finally able to get back into my clothes and leave, very happy. Fiber thing. He didn't have to even stab me (not that I would have objected), get all my checks done directly by him, no going through anyone else and, he did look around while he was there, so I take some comfort in that!
Back to nice rads-onc lady Monday with my little envelope from him.
Sigh. So I put on my Big Girl Pants and headed down there.
"Oh how are you Madame D.??" they gushed, in serious concern, including the young, pretty blond (Miss "Don't say that to him or he'll be mean to us for the rest of the day"). I updated them, with the nuggets of my adventure they're more interested in, like changing the rads location. "So disorganized over at the Cancer Center!" "Really??" I thought that tidbit might be useful to pass on to another patient, really. I also praised my "princess" treatment at Adassa and said that the rads were just like a sunburn. Everyone was wonderful over at St. Anne. No problems with the anti-hormone pill.
I have learned that people want to hear positive things about cancer and not all doom, gloom and negative stories.
I left out that I've been having a period for two weeks. Some stuff that just doesn't need to be shared!
So what are you having done? Um, the Rx. I forgot to bring it in!
Thankfully, I've learned a few tricks and one is to put all medical stuff in the car, so that it can't be forgotten. Of course, I'm screwed if my car is stolen or burned but let's not go there. So I ran out to my car, made a mess and came back with the paper from the rads-onc lady.
I was waiting in the waiting area. Not too busy. Good thing because he came in and called out "Sharon!"
Truthfully, I think he meant to say my full name and somehow, it didn't quite make it. French doctors are very formal, always shake hands and everyone is Monsieur and Madame.
What are the chances that the other patients thought that "Sharon" is my last name? But then he said it the American way, like Sharon Stone. The French usually say it like Ariel Sharon. Love that association (some Moslem friends in England called me "Ruth", my middle name since they despised Sharon so much!)
So he shakes my hand and leads me to the ultrasound room. Let's me get dressed by myself this time! Oh yeah. Left my bra on. Didn't feel like waiting with no top on. Where are the gowns in France?? I think I only saw one for the MRI.
Of course, he kind of scolds me. He can't say the word for bra. He kind of waves his hand and says "It all has to come off". Okay fine and I flung my Victoria's Secret special across the room and it lands perfectly on top of my affairs.
Luckily, it wasn't hard to miss. I showed him and he fired up the u/s machine. I told him about Dr. G's aborted attempt at extracting fluid. Then, of course, I have to add "I hope he's better with a scalpel then he is with a needle", trying not to exaggerate things. He put up his hands and said "I will assure you, if I go in there with a needle, I will know where I'm going and I will extract something. I'm not stabbing anyone for nothing!"
Oh. Someone's not happy.
"...and it isn't even fluid! Look..." Like I really know what I'm looking at? "Not black in the middle?" I said, trying to show off that I do actually listen to him sometimes. "Right! See, there are your cysts. They looks completely different..." Um... He declared it to be scar tissue. "But it's not under my scar!" "It's still very close. See" he said, taking my hand "here is your scar and here it is. Almost in the same place. You have scar tissue on top but you also have scar tissue underneath. There's probably more further down by your other scar but you can't feel it. We'll monitor this but it's nothing. It's normal to have this after surgery..." Yeah.
I then approached the subject. Dr. G doesn't like questions and he doesn't like explaining. "I explain everything" he declared. So I noticed. "Ultrasound, mammography and that's it. Once a year. That's not what we talked about and I told him so. Just once." I was getting worried that he'd backtrack and that I'd regret talking about Dr. G. first.
"I want my MRI's. Last time you told me I could have MRI's. I know about the false positives. My sister just had a biopsy that was a false negative from an MRI but that's a 'risk' I'm willing to take. You can biopsy anything you want but it shows everything..."
And off he went on the speech about the false positives (which I was trying to cut off by saying it first). Then he reiterated what he told me last fall. Every six months, mammo then...
So how do I go about doing that? I have my GP's support, I explained and an apt. with my gynecologist... No, not necessary.
What?!? I'm now, what they call in France, a "long infection" patient. This gives me special privileges like direct access to my radiologist, without a reference.
Oh. Good. He was still pushing that little wand thing around on the side of my boob. I was happy to let him continue...
All I have to do it call, make an apt. and he said he'd take care of all the rest. And the three month run up to an MRI? We'll deal with that in the fall. We have time. Great.
I asked about his trip to Chicago. They had great weather and one of the storms was moving in as they left. He said the board was full of cancellations but their flight left. Internationals are usually priority, I told him. I also asked about Tomosynthesis, the 3D new technology. "Not for you. Dense breasts. Just like a mammogram, we can't see anything". Oh, the dense breast thing. Talked about that for awhile.
Finally done. He pulled off a big piece of that rolled paper and started awkwardly trying to wipe off all that gel he uses. He always does this and I'm always trying to take it from him without being pushy. Finally able to get back into my clothes and leave, very happy. Fiber thing. He didn't have to even stab me (not that I would have objected), get all my checks done directly by him, no going through anyone else and, he did look around while he was there, so I take some comfort in that!
Back to nice rads-onc lady Monday with my little envelope from him.
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