Suddenly she was faced with having to keep appointments with orthopedic surgeons to deal with the injured wrist, and she couldn‘t drive. How could I go forward with surgery that was a diagnostic procedure and no life or death matter when she was dealing with something more urgent and needed me? I canceled the surgery.
Additional CAT Scan
I then attempted to get a new date for the surgery, but a week passed and I did not hear from the surgeon’s office. More than a little dismayed by the lack of response, I then discussed with my oncologist whether some alternate approach might be a good way to proceed while we waited for the surgeon to forgive me for missing my appointment and rescheduling me. I raised this possibility with the oncologist because I thought that it might be a good way to gain more information on just how fast growing or slow growing my “olive-size” lymph node might be. My hope , of course, was that the node might have decreased in size or might even have disappeared.
The oncologist agreed that the additional CAT Scan was a good idea, and she acknowledged that the interval between scans was of sufficient length not to jeopardize my health due to excessive radiation exposure. I then went to Baptist Hospital and had the new CAT Scan. Two days later, feeling apprehensive over what the results might be, I called the oncologist. I was told that she was not in. This surprised me and left me a little upset since I was calling on a day when I had been informed the oncologist was always in. When I hung up I was wondering if I would ever get my results and, of course, what they might be.
Unexpected Call Back
My uncomfortable feelings were not to last. Ten minutes later I received a call back, but the caller was not who I had expected it to be. The caller announced to me that she was another oncologist with the same organization, and as she talked I learned that she had a very different approach than the oncologist with whom I had been dealing. First, she told me that the other oncologist was no longer with the practice, and she asked if I knew that. “No,” I responded, “I had no idea. That subject never came up in any of our conversations.”
She then proceeded to give me the test results. The lymph node was still there, she informed me. I was not happy at that news. However, while it was still there, she was quick to add, it had changed in size. It could not be said to have gotten any smaller, but it wasn’t larger either. In fact, what had happened is that the dimensions had simply changed with one dimension larger than before and one dimension smaller.
Called Quite Stable
Having said that, she then asserted, “I consider this lymph node to be quite stable.” She also said that she felt the data from the PET Scan, cited in a previous posting, did not reveal unusually high activity, a different interpretation than I had gotten from the previous oncologist.
She then volunteered that she did not feel that surgery was very helpful in cases like mine. She said, “I prefer a wait and see approach using procedures that are non invasive. For one thing, you should have CAT Scans every two to three months.
Bone Marrow Test Preferred
“Before subjecting my patients to invasive surgery,” she added, “I’d sooner see them have the bone marrow test. I know my patients don’t like them, but I think they would all agree that they are preferable to anything invasive.”
A word about the bone marrow test, to which the doctor was referring. The bone marrow test involves drilling into the hip bone to take a blood sample from the marrow area. If that description makes the test sound unusually painful, that’s fine because it is in my opinion a test somewhat akin to torture. How would I know? I know because I’ve had 10 of the bone marrow tests. They were all awful, but I would have to agree with the doctor. They were all preferable to having surgery.
Specialist in Lymphoma and Leukemia
Finally we talked about where I go from here given the fact that the oncologist I had been seeing had departed for a new endeavor in another part of the state. The doctor told me about the remaining physicians in her oncology practice, and she let me know that of those physicians she and another were the two specialists in lymphoma and leukemia. I wouldn’t have to choose any of the physicians in the practice if I didn’t want to, she told me, but she implied that she would be happy to have me if I chose her.
Easy decision. Given her specialization in my disease and given that I liked what she had to say, anyway most of it and especially what she had to say about surgery, I felt I had an easy decision. “I’d like you to be my oncologist,” I told her.
Where do I go from here? Like the lady said, we wait and see. That means at least four CAT Scans a year and maybe an occasional bone marrow drilling (ouch!!!), that is, if I continue to be “very stable.” That’s a pretty good deal, especially given what almost happened to me.
A friend of ours aware of how my wife’s broken wrist saved me from surgery asked us what I was going to do for her in recompense. Harriet answered, “His not having to have surgery is good enough for me, broken wrist and all.” That’s my wife!
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