Why oh why did I make an appointment for 10:50 am? I don’t even get up until 10:30 am. This morning I have an ultrasound to check on my cancer status so I got up at 9 am.
I followed my regular schedule; read the news online, checked email, drank a breakfast smoothie, and fed the dogs and cats. I showered and dressed, ate 3 antacids, took a Xanax and hopped in my car.
I left at 10:50, the exact time I was supposed to be at the hospital. This is an ADHD thing, we joke that for us being there at 10:50 registers in our brains as “have to leave at 10:50”. For me this was actually early. My brain usually registers a 10:50 appointment as “have to get in the shower by 10:50”.
It wasn’t until I took the hospital exit off the highway that I realized I hadn’t taken a deep breath since I’d gotten in the car. I consciously take a few shallow breaths.
I know this route by heart; I can drive it without thinking or paying attention. Even though I only go once every 3 months now there was a time when I went 2 to 3 times a week.
The parking lot said “FULL” so I had to drive around a bit to find a place to park making me even later.
At the hospital you check in at the front desk and then wait for your name to be called. Then you go to a booth and check in again, waiting for the computer to find you and your appointment and spit out 10 or so pieces of paper for you to sign and initial.
This is what it’s like for me at any rate. I am enrolled in the TN Breast and Cervical Cancer Program so all my care is free. I don’t know what it’s like for people with insurance or like me, with no insurance but also no qualifying program for support
Once I’ve checked in at the lobby area I walk to The Breast Clinic and check in there. There is a lot of walking in hospitals and a lot of elevators. I’m now 40 minutes late for my appointment so this waiting room is empty.
I quickly have my vitals taken and answer a series of questions.
~What medications am I on?
~Do I smoke?
~How is my pain on a scale of 1 to 10?
~Have I fallen recently? (The real answer to this is yes, I fall all the time, but
I stopped telling them this because when I do I’m bombarded with calls for
free alarm systems “I’ve fallen and can’t get up.”)
They ask if I use a cane. Honestly, I am 58 and I think I look pretty young and mobile! I mishear the question anyway and repeat incredulously “Do I use cocaine?” The answer to both is NO.
Then I’m put in a room where a doctor I don’t know and who says nothing to me comes and picks up my chart. This is a teaching hospital so I’m used to this sort of thing. A few seconds later a nurse comes to take me to get my ultrasound.
I know the ultrasound technician pretty well and enjoy her. She’s friendly and respectful and really knows her stuff. She gives me results along the way as we talk about her grandkids.
Soon, I’m back in the room I was originally put in and I’m getting a breast exam. I recently took a 13 year old friend of mine to be fitted for bras. Her modesty during the process reminded me of how immune I’ve become to showing my breasts to anyone. Four years after my diagnosis it feels like half the town has seen and felt my breasts.
Everything feels fine to the Physicians Assistant and she also tells me that everything looked good on the ultrasound.
Now, when I go for a check up I go with a list of questions because I know I will only be half there. This time I had only 2 questions. One was “Is everything ok?” and one was about my immune system.
When I was told everything looked good on the ultrasound I asked a question I hadn’t prepared for. I asked “So, nothing is growing?” and was told, no, I fact there is actually “shrinkage”.
Then I asked if my immune system was being affected by cancer because for the last 4 years I have been sick more than usual, catching every cold and bug around. My PA looked puzzled and said no, it wasn’t related to cancer because I didn’t have cancer anymore.
No one has ever told me that before. Cancer did travel through my body to my lymph nodes so what I have always been told was that we were operating under the assumption that my cancer was gone. This was the first time anyone had told me I didn’t have cancer anymore. I didn’t really believe it but it was nice to hear.
I had my parking ticket validated at the main desk of the hospital and drove home. I had other appointments scheduled that day but I cancelled them and took an afternoon nap. I was exhausted.
That evening I was telling a friend about my check up and he jumped in at the ultrasound results- the “shrinkage”. He wanted to know what was shrinking. That thought did hit me on the way home but he got it instantly.
He couldn’t understand why I hadn’t asked for clarification. I tried to explain that I wasn’t really all there at the appointment. I don’t know what it is but part of my mind just shuts down.
I think I did better 4 years ago when I was originally diagnosed and going through treatment. I had notebooks of questions with subcategories.
If the answer to question #2 is A:
ask 1.
2.
3.
If the answer to question #2 is B:
ask 1.
2.
3.
I guess I am less worried and less prepared now. I still seem to be just as anxious and not quite there so it may be time to go back to better preparation.
How do you manage your check up? What do you do to prepare?
Monday Night Cancer Club is a Daily Kos group focused on dealing with cancer, primarily for cancer survivors and caregivers, though clinicians, researchers, and others with a special interest are also welcome. Volunteer diarists post Monday evenings between 7-8 PM ET on topics related to living with cancer, which is very broadly defined to include physical, spiritual, emotional and cognitive aspects. Mindful of the controversies endemic to cancer prevention and treatment, we ask that both diarists and commenters keep an open mind regarding strategies for surviving cancer, whether based in traditional, Eastern, Western, allopathic or other medical practices. This is a club no one wants to join, in truth, and compassion will help us make it through the challenge together.