Cancer and Memory Lane
I can’t think of anything more worthy of a post (or trip) to dysfunction junction than our medical system – especially as it relates to cancer. It’s Pinktober again. While I completely understand and appreciate the joining together for a cause, breast cancer is not a celebration nor is it going to go away because of everyone supposedly supporting the “fight.” I do believe I experience a bit of post-traumatic stress in October because of everyone bringing “awareness” to breast cancer. Join me for a walk down memory lane. . .
Prior to my having surgery, it was automatic that I schedule an appointment with radiology and oncology. Seriously; I’m going over the plan of action with the surgeon still in disbelief about what I’m doing and I’m told they will be scheduling my appointment with a radiologist and oncologist. Oncologist means one thing. Cancer. May I take a moment to let that settle in? I asked to wait as I didn’t know what I would do post surgery. I was strongly encouraged to schedule the appointments and to at least meet with them. I refer to this process as the conveyer belt of treatment.
I let them schedule the appointments, and word got out that I wasn’t planning on doing either of the recommended treatments. First appointmet – radiology. Just a few days post surgery I enter the office of the head of radiology. The nurse greats me with a big smile and asks, “do you have a will?” I’m sure my face went white as I said, “no, uh, do you know something I don’t?” She said this was her standard question to everyone because it’s good to be prepared. I understand the truth in that, but since I was a little raw in that moment, couldn’t they send me home with some information to read? I really wish someone had been there to videotape my entire visit as most of this will sound unbelievable. It’s all true.
In walks a nice looking man obviously in the position of authority. After the basics, he smirks and says, “I understand you don’t want to have radiation therapy – why?” I said it was counter-intuitive. His expression was priceless. In spite of still being in a daze with all that was happening, I held my ground and explained that I didn’t understand killling healthy cells because there might be some unhealthy ones. I won’t go into the full extent of the conversation, but I will share that when he told me they were able to pinpoint extremely accurately the site of the tumor (I felt the need to remind him the tumor had been removed with clear margins). I asked if he could guarantee there would be no subsequent damage to my ribs, lungs, and heart. I also asked if it was now so safe, would he please stay in the room with me while I received the treatment. I wonder if he remembers me like I remember him.
I also said I might choose to do it later after I knew more of what was happening with my body. He said it didn’t work that way. What way? I commit to it now while I’m weak and vulnerable? Commit to it now because you can scare me into making a decision that isn’t necessary for me to make at that exact moment? Where’s the empathy and willingness to listen? He did leave me with some kind, thoughtful, first-do-no-harm wisdom; “this could kill you.” I did manage to say, “and so could a bus.” (“I’m rubber, you’re glue; everything you say bounces off me and sticks to you” came to mind more than once).
I wasn’t angry or snappy but completely bewildered. He did everything he could to persuade me, and I graciously thanked him for his input and time. I didn’t feel brave making this decision. I was honoring what I knew was right for me, and that, unfortunately, is quite often, the road less traveled. It didn’t come easy but with a lot of prayer, research, and tears. It’s also not a judgement against anyone elses choice. It was my choice.
When I see all the pink promotion, that’s one of the stories I remember. It’s not pretty and pink. It’s not a fight I wish on anyone. I’m so blessed to be healthy and to know I can trust my God-sourced intuition. All I ask – “think before you pink.”
—My heart goes out to the many women with high-stage cancer as there are limited treatment options available. With all the money being donated, this fight should be won–