Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Convalescing, and That's All for Now

After a visit with my doctor, this time to check that the brochitis has come to an end, but now the asthma has flared up (more drugs), I stopped by the Customer Relations office today to speak with Marylon (correct spelling) about something that has bothered me since that lovely day I found out about the cancer.

That particular morning, I was sitting in my dermatologist's examining room, my "vitals" having been taken by a young man.  He had a copy of my lab report in his hand, and leaned forward and asked "Are you going to cry when you find out your diagnosis?"  A creeping flush began at the back of my neck, confirming what Dave and I had talked about this morning--that whatever the news was, it was bad--but I'd be hanged if I was going to give this young man any indication of my emotions.
"Depends on what my diagnosis is," I answered calmly.
He did not leave well enough alone, but instead went back to reading my lab report.
"I guess I'll let the doctor tell you the news," he said.
"That would probably be wise," I answered, wishing that a hole would open up in the floor and swallow him.  Couple this experience with an incident later that hour when the botox-ed blonde young woman (office assistant) counseled me to "Ask more nicely," when I requested a copy of the pathology report.  At that point, I was struggling to stay on top of the inner storm surge, so could not even answer.  I simply stared and wished that same hole would get her too.  I did get the report, got out of the office before I broke down while talking to Dave, sitting in the parking lot outside the office.  That whole day was strange, but these two comments left me wondering if I should say something to someone.  And who?  I didn't want them fired, but I certainly didn't want to let their unprofessionalism go unchecked.

So I guess this means I'm getting better.  Better, as in the surgery is now two weeks in the past.  Better, as in now I don't have bronchitis and a double ear infection, but instead, asthma.  Better, as I don't randomly tear up every twenty minutes, but instead every afternoon or so.  Better, as in I didn't climb once on the bed today, but am on track to wait until after dinner to do that, where I will curl up with my laptop and stream Downton Abbey, Season Two, Episode One.

Better, as in now I am now technically someone who once had cancer, but now does not.


Artax said...

Sorry to hear about the bad people experiences. But very happy with the last line of the post!

The Thompsons said...

That's interesting about the bad people experiences, because I had a few of those at the OB when I was pregnant and I had the same internal debate on whether or not to say something. PS- Downton Abbey can make just about anything better. :)

Donna said...

I'm glad you stopped by the public relations office. It is just not okay to have staff in a doctor's office acting like that. They need to be trained that in the office, no matter what the patient says, the staff is the adult in this situation. When we are sick or in pain or worried about our futures, we, the patients, become the child and need as much nurturing and patience as would be given the 4 year old. I need stickers and balloons, too! A brief psych 1 course would do all the staff at clinics and hospitals a lot of good.

Judy said...

Isn't empathy training supposed to be the New Big Thing in medical programs? Obviously you got a couple of troglodytes, or maybe two of our C Students. Hopefully your comments help make some change.
That said, congratulations on being on the Other Side of cancer!

-C said...

A big part of me wants to fly to CA, show up at that office, and punch some people in the face....or at least get them some sensitivity training...and then punch them in the face. Ugh. People just don't think, do they?

I'm so happy to see you make use the past tense when it comes to cancer! So so so so happy!

And that first episode.....fun fun fun! I'm so glad it's back on! I've been rolling around an email to you about that first episode in my head since Sunday evening. Hopefully my email will stop rolling around in my head and come out soon.

Big hugs to you!

Alice said...

Yay for no cancer...and YES say something so those people in the office who deserved to have their botox face deflated by a fist:)

Krista said...

Seems like customer service has gone by the wayside. I hear you and have had many similar experiences, one at the dermatologist just last week. It's aggravating, for sure. Last year my coworker's brand new pregnancy was outed to a room full of people by the woman administering flu shots at my work. She hadnt told anybody yet! Anyways, glad you USED to have cancer. And that your teary episodes are becoming less frequent. I'll have to check out this show you speak of...

Anonymous said...

You need to tell someone. The behavior is outrageous.My primary doc never even told me in person. I am still waiting for that insensitive money collector to call and tell me the bad news. Tick tock......tick tock. If you want, I will go and deck 'em for ya. How dare they.

You made it, E! The new normal takes some getting used to. Be kind to yourself......you are loved.