Friday, January 11, 2008

The Gambler

For the second time this week, Kenny Roger's The Gambler was playing on the intercom in the radiation lab.

You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em,
Know when to walk away, and know when to run.
You never count your money when you're sittin' at the table.
There'll be time enough for counting when the dealing's done.

I am far from being out of the woods with this disease. The disappearance of my oncologist, Dr. G, has only increased my anxiety and depression. When I tried to get an appointment, the soonest I could be "fit in" was February 18. I had to call his nurse to ask for orders for CT and bone scans (my idea, not his). It's not clear if he's even read my surgical pathology report, but perhaps he's too busy to pick up the phone for five minutes to discuss it with me. I'd like to thank everyone who has offered advice about second opinions, including Cancer Bitch.

Yesterday, between my scans and radiation, I struggled with the blasted scheduling staff at the Cancer Center. All I wanted was the phone number of a nurse who works for another oncologist there, Dr. C. Exhausted, and sick of being transferred and then stonewalled, I began to cry. It's sad when that works, but it did. I left a (tearful) message with the nurse, asking her if I could be scheduled for a second opinion. One of the techs at the Nuclear Medicine scanning lab noticed my puffy, red eyes, and asked me what was wrong. Trying to hold back the water works, I told her about how my doctor appeared to be missing in action. Later, she slipped a piece of paper into my hand with the names of two oncologists not associated with the Cancer Center. "They're both terrific. The second one actually gives his patients his personal cell phone number." Imagine that; a doctor who actually talks to his patients.


anonymouscoworker said...

What the crap?! What kind of world do we live in where people getting radiation treatments are only treated humanely once they start crying? As if the radiation was like getting a bucketful of kittens or something.

d said...

you rock.

Celia said...

Good luck with the new leads, e-girl. Sorry you had to pay for them with frustration and tears.

PS Have I told you how much I love the label cloud on your site? I usually read you thru my feed reader, so I don't often see them, but they are truly poetry.

The Fifty Foot Blogger said...

ACW, the only way to avoid being treated this way is to never get sick. But thanks for that image...aww, kittens!

d, me and my monkey thank you.

celia, I love the cloud, too. Look for more "precolumbian porn" in the future.